by Zara Zenia
“For the love of Trilynia, do you plan to explain sometime tonight why you’ve summoned us here, Gardax?” Rawklix asked, rolling his bright blue eyes.
The rest of my brothers grumbled their own muted impatience. Rawklix, the youngest at 18, was still callow enough to give voice to his impudent complaints.
“Mind your place, little one,” warned Manzar, squaring his jaw and leveling Rawklix with an icy stare that begged to be challenged.
Rawklix lifted one side of his mouth into a smirk. “Always such a foul mood, Manzar! You need to take a trip to my islands. If you’d tasted the pleasures of paradise, you might not be so content to sit around scratching your balls. Regardless, I have better things to be doing, and they involve naked women, so if you don’t mind hurrying this little reunion along, I’d be quite grateful.” He drummed his long fingers on the table as if his patience were wearing thin and he were warning us of an impending repercussion to that fact.
The massive square muscles of Manzar’s shoulders tensed, so I held up my hand, stemming the violence before it began. I knew a brewing fight when I saw one, and I had neither the time nor the energy to feed into these men’s egos.
Manzar was a military man and nearly as adept a warrior as myself. Rawklix stood no chance against him, but more importantly, there were matters far more pressing than the posturing egos of my younger brothers. They could clash at each other’s throats on their own time.
“Enough, both of you. Bloody each other on your own time. I will not keep you here long, for obvious reasons, but for now, Trilynian business takes precedence, and you will all sit and hear what I have to share with you,” I said, gaining the attention of all six of my brothers. My voice boomed and barreled through the room, crashing down upon them like waves pelting the sand.
I nodded to Coel, my burly guardsman, and he silently swung open the thick metal door that was the only way in or out of the council room. The room was heavily fortified and operated on its own power source, completely distinct from the rest of the palace, making it the most secure space and ideal for such a conference. If you needed to discuss private matters, the council room was where you could operate under the most discrete of circumstances.
A few seconds later, in marched my two top scientists, looking a bit bewildered by the company before them. It was clear by their rattled expressions that they hadn’t been expecting the entire council to be together in this situation.
The viral outbreak that had ravaged Trilynia had resulted in tight precautions that meant my brothers and I were rarely in the same location at once, the risks of infection too grave. Everyone had to be under tight lock and security. There was no room for error in the world we now lived in.
“Your Highnesses,” Lifiya, the lead researcher said, dropping to the floor and kowtowing beside her assistant, a thin man, at least by Trilyn standards, with messy brown hair and anxious eyes. She awaited a command or response before lifting her head.
“Please rise. I do not wish to be burdened with ceremony. Proceed with your presentation.” I strained not to let my failing attitude in the moment leak through my voice, but it was a nearly impossible challenge.
“Of course, Your Highness.” She nodded, blinking owlishly. “Please forgive my surprise. I assumed this would be a remote conference,” she said, setting the small box in her faintly trembling hands on the table before us. Her eyes briefly flickered across the table, skirting from brother to brother with subtle apprehension.
Pressing her hand into the gooey biometric scanning port, she unlocked and opened it, lifting the small metal device in front of her face. Now, she had stoic determination and precise concentration reflecting in her features.
“Your Graces, may I present you with our prototype Biostatistical Information Assessment and Symbiosis Scanner,” she said reverently, staring at the item like it contained the secret to life itself. The pride radiating from her aura as she displayed the object was remarkable and unmatchable.
“We call it the BIAS scanner,” added her assistant, looking eager to participate. She shifted her weight and licked her lips, eyeing each of us as if she were proud of her contribution to the conversation.
“A dubious acronym,” my younger brother Jinurak responded, his twin Lortnam nodding in agreement. They seldom exchanged a difference of opinion.
Lifiya flashed an irritated look at her assistant then offered the device to me. It was weightier than I expected. I held it in my palms and gave it a thorough inspection.
“Dubious as it may sound, this will ensure the future of our people,” I announced, passing it to Darbnix who sat nearest me. “Be careful,” I advised. “Don’t drop it.”
The small blue watch-lizard on his shoulder scrambled down and inspected the device as he did. How he could be so comfortable with the tiny reptile crawling on him was beyond me. The lizard curled its prickly red tongue out of its snarly little mouth. Its eyes narrowed with curiosity and it cocked its head to the side.
Lifiya seemed to tense nervously and reached out before stopping herself. “It’s our only model so far, though we will have the others completed soon.” Her voice was raspy and squeaky at the same time. She eyed the lizard with weary caution as she spoke.
“And? What does it do?” Rawklix asked, still looking bored and impatient. He rolled his eyes and let out a deliberately large and long-winded sigh, leaning back in his chair.
“It scans the genetic markers and biocomposition of an organism to identify compatibility between two specimens. A device will be created for each of Your Highnesses and programmed to each of your unique genetic configurations. Once formatted, the scanner can accurately detect the reproductive compatibility of any specimen surveyed and identify the individual whose markers offer optimal genetic potential for the production of viable progeny, your perfect match.”
“In other words, my brothers, meet our new matchmakers. There will be no more delay in acquiring a bride for any of us,” I said solemnly, feeling the weight of the matter acutely myself. My emotions on the subject were still floating up in the air and up for debate.
A hush fell over the room as the moment sank in. It was true. We were each of us well-acquainted with our mission. The future of our race depended upon our success in locating human mates, who were, incredibly, immune to the virus which had devastated our race, and producing virally resistant offspring. We were out of resources, out of options.
“And what qualifies as a ‘perfect match’?” Darbnix inquired, popping the knuckles of his large dark hands, an expression of concern crossing his face. He frowned skeptically. The watch lizard on his arm had returned to its post at his shoulder, tensing nervously as it mimicked the apprehension of its master. Its huge glassy eyes harbored slits for pupils that dilated when the creature engaged in anxiety of any kind.
Lifiya chewed her lip for a moment before continuing. Perhaps it might have been a nervous habit. Perhaps it was the pressure of promoting the device.
“What we have concerned ourselves with in this endeavor was genetic compatibility—locating an individual with whom you’ll have the most success in producing healthy offspring. I understand that there are other factors involved in the mating process . . .” She trailed off as she assessed the response and reaction of the assembly in front of her.
Darbnix gave a humorless laugh that was laced with palpable cynical flair.
“However, such matters are certainly not the province of science,” she finished. I noticed how her throat moved as she took a hard swallow.
“So, you’re saying that this trifling gadget” —Rawklix gestured at the scanner, which was now on the glass-like surface of the table before us— “could match us with a warty, bearded pit-dweller and we’ll have no choice but to bed them?”
The unease rolled through each of my brothers at the notion that their choice of future bride was now left so blindly to science. The scenario didn’t sit well with any of us, and I mentally stewed in my seat, stoically adhering to se
renity. I wanted to fully understand the device and how it worked before I made any knee-jerk conclusions.
Suddenly, Darbnix let loose a loud laugh, the force of it sending his lizard scrambling up to perch in Darbnix’s short brown hair. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy. As wet behind the ears as you are, Rawklix, you should be happy for any woman who will take you.” It was common for him to playfully tease his brother in a patronizing way.
“Perhaps I should stick to animals then, like you, Darbnix?” Rawklix sneered. He was always easily defensive. Quippy retorts came naturally to him, and I found them at the very least amusing as long as I wasn’t the one facing the backlash.
Darbnix barely registered the insult, but the little lizard on his arm shimmered to a brilliant fiery red and launched itself at Rawklix, hissing and biting as he struggled to shake free of it. The little creature was feisty and animated as it enthusiastically thrashed on top of Rawklix.
“Argh! Call off your vile little worm!” Rawklix shouted, spitting as his hair became askew and disheveled in the struggle. His cheeks burned bright red with fresh fury.
Laughing, Darbnix reached out and grabbed the lizard by the tail. “Come, Vigo, let the boy and his wounded ego alone. We wouldn’t want to scratch that pretty face, after all.” The lizard emitted a strange clicking, shimmering back to blue, and settled on Darbnix’s arm. It perched there with smug satisfaction.
I stood. “Enough squabbling. Rawklix—all of you—this is our duty. It doesn’t matter what we sacrifice in the process. We must do what is right by our planet and by our people. The seven of us are the best chance of survival for Trilynia. If that means you must compromise your shallow standards, Rawklix, then you will do so without complaint, for there are far greater consequences at stake.” My voice left little room for debate. This was a somber subject, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by as I watched my planet deplete of living beings who no longer had the ability to procreate.
“And what is so wrong with satisfying my own standards in a mate as well as those demanded of me by Trilynia? I’m perfectly capable of finding a woman. Why must I obey some gadget?” Rawklix was confrontational and morose. He always asked questions. He never took no for an answer.
“There are 14 billion humans on Earth, and roughly half of those are females. Divided evenly among us, that is still approximately one billion human women for each of us to weed through,” I answered patiently so that he would finally see the point. “Under ideal circumstances, we would all have the freedom to select the mate of our choice, but these are not those circumstances. We have had more than enough time to find brides in the typical way and none of us has done so. Results are due now, and it is our responsibility to deliver. Having the choice taken from you . . . well, I don’t expect any of you to be happy about the situation, but I do expect you to honor your duties,” I finished soberly.
No one contradicted me, even Rawklix, as we all thought back to the state of our home planet two dwarf stars away. I was the eldest brother. In the end, I was the established voice of reason. I had the final say in decisions made around this council table.
Life managed to continue on there, even with the looming threat of extinction, but we all knew that matters would not remain peaceful for long if we did not send word back soon of our success in locating mates. The people of this planet would be hunting for answers, and it was me and my brothers they would be looking to.
The Great Plan had been conceived by the Royal Council in one of the darkest hours of Trilynian history. The virus that had swept through our people had rendered the majority of our women infertile, and without the promise of a future, chaos had threatened to unravel the very fabric of our society. Panic rippled through the communities like a Tsunami wreaking havoc and flooding the areas around its destructive path.
Our expedition, the chance that we might be able to ensure the next generation of Trilyns, had reignited some small spark of hope. Hope might seem a trifling, sentimental notion, but without it, the worst of society emerged. Anger erupted in people’s minds. Chaos ensued. There were many protests.
“You are right, of course, Gardax,” Manzar, ever loyal, agreed. If I ever needed a right-hand man, he was the one I turned to. He was the one I could trust under any taxing situation.
“We’ll need some sort of system for this,” Lortnam added contemplatively. Among my brothers, his mind was the one most suited toward matters of organization and resource management. He was the type to always process and digest information and then carefully and measuredly come to the best solution.
“Agreed,” I answered. “We have already reached a diplomatic agreement with the Union of Terran Inhabitants. I think the matter should not be too complicated. Do any of you have suggestions?” I raised my eyebrows and scanned the room, tensing my muscles while I braced for impact.
“If I may interject, Your Highness,” Lifiya said, “It may clarify your plans to know that the scanners do have a significant range.”
“How significant?” I asked with intrigue.
She looked to her assistant, who meekly added, “Based upon the density of specimens in the environment, the range of accurate detection can fluctuate some, but approximate range is between 100 and 300 parcils, Your Highness.”
“Not bad.” I nodded. I was impressed with the measurements. A device so significant needed to be as precise and advanced as possible.
Akrawn, who had kept quiet until now, finally joined in. “I have been informed that excitement among the human females has begun to grow at the prospect of marriage to Trilyn Royalty.”
He folded his pale hands in front of him, coal-black hair falling around the harsh angles of his face. “Our society is wealthier, infinitely more technologically advanced, and we have none of the issues of political instability or resource mismanagement they do here on Earth. I say we have the upper hand. We should use it. Let them come to us. A contained space will also make detection easier.”
Manzar grunted. “There is sense in this. We make ourselves vulnerable by going out and moving through their world. Far safer for us to conduct this search on our own territory.”
Lortnam scratched the olive skin of his chin as he thought. “It needs to be done in an orderly, controlled fashion then. We can host a forum at a set time and announce it with an open invitation?” His voice showed enthusiasm.
Rawklix yawned. “A forum? Could we make the mating process any more methodical or dry? Let us throw a party, at least. If we must chain ourselves to some random human, why shouldn’t we have a good time in the process?” He smirked with youthful arrogance.
For once, I agreed with my pleasure-seeking youngest brother. “Rawklix, though tactless, makes a good point. There is no reason we cannot enjoy ourselves. Besides, making the occasion festive may ensure a greater number of attendees, which will improve our chance of success.”
Agreement was murmured, and plans began to take shape. Finally, we were getting somewhere. I loved to see unity come together. Brainstorming held an important place in this palace.
I thanked Lifiya and her assistant and dismissed them to resume their work. After collecting samples from myself and each of my brothers, they rushed off to finish the devices. They hurried away with chattering and bubbly enthusiasm. At least they were engrossed in their work and loved to produce something that would reach the masses and change the world we lived in.
An hour later, the matter was settled. We would host a gathering at the week’s end, here on my ship, which functioned as a remote Central Palace. Depending on how successful the occasion turned out, we would do the same at each of my brother’s ships. We were aiming for the highest numbers possible, and we had to make the first event engaging, enticing, and thrillingly entertaining.
“We’ll want to contract more human staffers beyond the few who have already been employed,” Lortnam added. “This event should conform to Earth culture wherever possible and be as close to their traditional gatherings as we can make it.�
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Rawklix closed his eyes. “Please let that include orgies! Please let that include orgies!” His lips curled into a mischievous grin.
“Pardon me, Your Highness.” Coel cleared his throat. “But we’ve surpassed the allotted time for today’s council.” He was right, I realized. The concentration of us all being here on one ship made us all vulnerable. As the future rulers of our planet, we did not have the luxury of taking such things for granted.
I nodded professionally. “Thank you.” I turned back to my brothers. “We will conduct remote conferences for the preparations.” I gave them each a glance, locking eyes with them to ensure they understood the protocol and plans to take off from here.
Each of my brothers excused themselves from the council room, making their way to their own itinerant pods that would return them to their individual vessels. One by one, they disembarked, and I was left alone in the great council room with my own thoughts. My head screamed with ideas, fantasies, and hope for the future. There was no shutting off my emotions. I was always going to be spinning in the web of my own making.
I shared Rawklix’s concerns about being linked to a female I would not otherwise have chosen for myself, of course, but what good did it do to give space to such worry in my mind? There was, after all, nothing to be done about it. I was born into a position of the highest privilege, and along with it came the weight of duty. I would not shirk it now, when my service mattered most. Cosmetic and surface beauty were always fixable. Saving my species was of the upmost importance now.
The idea of returning to Trilyn appealed to me, as well. As the future High King, my successful return would do a great deal toward restoring stability to our kingdom. Indeed, though I may never fully silence the fears at the periphery of my mind, I felt quite pleased at the prospect of fulfilling my duty to my people and ensuring the survival of our race. Surely, there could be no greater honor.