by Eve Langlais
“Unless they’ve learned to live in harmony with their environment.” Not many species ever evolved to that extent. Even the Zonians had a tendency of razing areas to the ground for their villages.
“I think we made the voyage for nothing.” Ishtara pored over her screens, looking for signs of anything.
“Maybe what we seek is hidden for safety.”
“More likely it’s a trap.”
“Do you really think that?” She took her gaze from the planet to scan the space around them, keeping special watch on the orbiting moons that might hide enemies.
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Ishtara enthused at the prospect.
Zonians craved battle and confrontation. Thrived on chaos. Clarabelle didn’t mind, and yet it would be nice to not always have to hunt down her dinner or fight to keep her place. To return to a normal way of living like she used to enjoy.
“No smoke signs. No communications chatter.” Ish kept monitoring for any evidence of civilization.
“Could be they are underground?”
“Why would they live below the ground given the air is a perfect blend suitable for human lungs?”
Ish had already studied air quality and would probably test the foliage and local wildlife next. Clarabelle had a feeling it would be compatible as well.
“I didn’t say they did live underground, just mentioned it as a possibility.”
“I still don’t understand why. It doesn’t sound pleasant.”
Clarabelle’s nose wrinkled. “No, it doesn’t. I kind of hoped I’d live somewhere sunny.”
Looking upon the verdant world, she almost stated, “I’ve come home.” This planet was the closest she’d come to feeling as if she were back on Earth.
They landed in the strip of grass without fanfare. No one came to greet them, guns didn’t rise from the ground via hidden turrets to target, and sirens didn’t scream to noisy life.
Stepping out of the ship, she couldn’t help but notice the silence was broken only by the ticking of their cooling engine parts. There was a slight rustle of grass as a light breeze sluiced through it and the trill of an animal. Bird, rat, bear… Who cared? There was life here.
Fresh air. She breathed deep.
“Not a very appealing locale,” Ishtara grumbled, stomping past. “All that green and whoever heard of a blue sky?”
The reminder had Clarabelle tilting her head back and smiling at the sight of it. The sun wasn’t a yellow ball, but the white, fiery nature of it was close.
“I like it.” She really did. “Shall we split up to see if we can find a settlement?” Because that was the only thing that could make this planet even more perfect.
“How long shall we search before admitting defeat?” Ishtara asked, slinging a large harness with a sheathed sword around her torso.
“Could we at least try to be a little positive?”
“I don’t like to lie.”
Clarabelle loved and hated that about her friend. “Then how about you say nothing at all. Meet you back here by sunset.”
They set off in opposite directions, armed for danger, and each sporting a communication device. Not to call for help. Ishtara would bleed out before she’d admit she needed any.
Clarabelle was proud but did have a thing about living. If that made her a coward, then she would at least be kicking around to bask in the shame of it.
The field proved odd. The grass appeared trimmed, the area clear of any bushes or saplings, as if weeded. The question being, who maintained it?
It didn’t take long to cross the field and reach the tree line. The trees towered a good twenty feet overhead. She’d yet to see any signs of life or habitation. The ground remained free of trails.
But then again…when she looked back, she couldn’t even see where she’d traversed. Could it be the planet didn’t allow any permanent paths?
As she stepped into the shade of the forest, Clarabelle kept a tight grip on her knife. Under the boughs forming a dense canopy, the leaves filtered the sunlight, placing her in a pale shadow. She finally caught movement as insects flitted past, their wings a blur of color, the rapid rub of them humming.
She stepped carefully, knowing how to place her feet so that she didn’t make a sound. All her senses were tuned to the forest. And still, she only barely realized she wasn’t alone.
At the realization, she whirled and saw a figure standing not far off between two trees. She flung her dagger end over tip and gaped as it was caught by the hilt.
Midair.
Impressive.
“I believe this is yours.” The cloaked stranger held it out.
Rather than snatch it, she reacted to the familiar deep voice. “You! Why are you stalking me?” More importantly, why did her heart race?
“I would ask the same of you. This is my world. You are the one following it seems.”
“You live here?” she said slowly.
“Yes.” Thyos shoved back his hood and revealed his very handsome face cut with a square jaw. A hint of a smile curved his lips. Pity he had less-than-human eyes. Looking into them gave her shivers.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
She swept a hand to encompass the forest around them. “Because this isn’t the advanced planet of some alien race who can gallivant around space. It’s too virgin.”
“There is more to my world than you can see.”
“Says you.”
“Yes, says me. Would you like to see some of it?”
There had to be a trap in there somewhere.
Trap…
She jabbed a finger in his direction. “You made me come here.”
“How exactly did I force you? I did not abduct you, although I could have. Nor did I threaten you or your companion. On the contrary, I left and returned home. You,” he stressed, “are intruding on my space.”
“Ha. Intruding on what?” Again, she gestured to the forest around him. “You going to claim all this land?”
“Not this section, no. The area around the landing fields is neutral grounds accessed by several tribes.”
“So that grassy field is intentional. Do you use sheep to keep it mowed down?” she sassed.
“Sheep.” He mulled the word aloud. “That is an animal providing components for fabric building and food on your world.”
She blinked. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been studying your kind.”
The knowledge startled. “Why?”
“Because I was curious.”
If he had to do research, then that could only mean one thing. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say there are no humans here.”
“There is one.”
Given he stared in her direction, she knew who he meant.
“Bloody hell. Ish is going to kill me.”
“I’m confident you would prevail in a fight, and if not, our medical units are quite adept at reattaching limbs, although we’ve had lesser success with heads.”
Startled by the statement, she eyed him then realized he took her literally again. Rather than correct him, she found herself asking, “Have you come to your senses regarding that fated mate thing?”
“Would I have gone through the effort of bringing you here otherwise?”
In that moment, realization slapped her. She eyed him suspiciously and said sourly, “That information given to me by the purple dude. Makl. You bribed him to lie, didn’t you?”
“I told you fate would bring us together.”
“Paying someone to feed me false information isn’t fate,” she argued. “I thought you said you didn’t make me come here.”
“I didn’t. Merely started a rumor that you chose to believe.”
She glared. “You’re splitting hairs.”
“Why would anyone do that? It seems rather useless and detrimental.”
“It’s an expression. It means— You know what, never mind what it means. You seeded that rumor on purpose, knowing
I’d hear it and come looking.”
“Don’t be angry because I outmaneuvered you.”
“Trapped me!”
He gestured to the forest at her back. “You may leave at any time. I won’t stop you.”
“Won’t stop me?” She snorted. “Kind of hard to do anything with your guts on the ground.”
“I don’t think you’ll kill me,” he stated with too much confidence.
Given he still held her knife, she snatched it and played with the sharp edge. “Maybe I’ll maim you instead.”
Why did her threats make him smile?
“You have a fierce spirit. You’ll need it if you’re going to get my tribe to accept you.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what your tribe wants. We are not hooking up.”
“The sooner you accept we are sykyrah, the better.”
“Dude, did no one ever teach you ultimatums don’t work? I am not going to be your wife.”
“Are you always this obstinate when faced with facts?”
“Are you always this annoying?” she grumbled.
“Only when I’m right.” He dared show a dimple when he said it.
She ignored the cuteness of it. “I can’t believe you wasted my time bringing me here.” She rubbed a hand through her hair.
“How did I waste it? You are seeking a world with possible mates for you and your sisters.” He spread his hands, the seam of his cloak opening to show two legs, two arms, and a thick body that appeared to have no fat, just lots and lots of muscle. “I have done as promised.”
“I asked for humans. Not”—she waved her hand— “whatever you are.” A part of her realized how awful she sounded, and yet the words still rolled off her tongue.
“I am Spa’Rtk’un,” he declared, flinging off his cloak.
She blinked once, then twice, before turning on her heel to march back to her ship. Of course, he just had to follow.
“Your resistance is futile,” he declared.
“According to you,” she snapped. “I am not about to give in. You and I will never happen. Ever.”
“Why not?”
She whirled and pointed. “Because you have a freaking tail.”
Six
Belle didn’t point out the obvious with awe but rather disgust. It prickled.
“Don’t be jealous just because your own posterior is lacking,” Thyos declared.
“My ass is perfect.”
“I assume you are referring to your buttocks and not a hairy, ornery animal,” he asked, as his translator offered two choices.
“Does your translator not handle slang?”
“Your language will require an update apparently since many of your expressions don’t translate well.” His tail flicked side to side, and she paled, even took a step away from him.
Rather than hide, he slid the tip closer. He refused to be shamed by a tail he took pride in, the muscle of it firm, the exterior bronze scales and the tip flexible enough to grip.
“Stop that!”
“Stop what exactly?” he goaded.
“That thing with your tail. Keep it away from me.”
“It really bothers you,” he stated.
“It’s weird.”
“More like you are intolerant.”
“Did you just call me racist?” She blinked at him. Surprised obviously. How could she not realize how her own words condemned her?
“You are reacting because of an inherent bias against those who are different than you.”
“Hell yeah I’m reacting. In case you don’t know it, you’re an alien.”
“So are you, or do you think there aren’t things that I find odd about your appearance as well?” he countered. Did she not grasp how different she appeared to him? Not bad or ugly, but very different. However, at the same time, he thought her beautiful for her uniqueness.
She obviously didn’t see him in the same manner. It bothered because more than ever he knew she was his sykyrah. Fighting it when it shone so obviously was pointless. Still, he couldn’t help the disappointment at being saddled with a female who thought him repulsive.
Would she ever come to look on him favorably?
“I have no problem with you finding me ugly,” she declared, her chin tilted upward.
“But that’s just it, I don’t. You are very attractive to me.”
The various expressions on her face had him tucking his hands behind his back, waiting for her to settle on a stubborn cast where her lower lip jutted.
“You’re just saying that to get in my pants. Don’t think I’m going to give in to your brainwashing about me being your soulmate something or other. That would be impossible given we’re not even the same species. Shouldn’t you be sniffing after a chick of your own kind?”
“I would rather, actually,” he growled, wondering why he bothered talking to the woman. She didn’t want to even try. “But what I want and what you want don’t matter. The goddess has spoken. Fate will have its way.”
“Are you for real? Goddesses and fate? You can’t tell me you actually believe in that shit. Free will, dude. We’re all born with it. At least I was. I don’t know about you.” Her retort was accompanied by an interesting roll of her eyes, the disdainful gesture one he recognized. In many ways they weren’t as different as she thought.
“I have freedom and choice in almost everything; however, this is more than choice. This is fate. It knows what we need, better than you or me,” he said softly.
She stared at him and then laughed. “Holy crap, what a load of bull. You can’t seriously expect me to swallow that.”
He didn’t know what possessed him to say, “You don’t have to swallow. Spitting is fine.”
The taunt rendered her almost speechless. “Pig!”
That was an insult he understood. She compared him to the ugly porcine pirates. It brought a smile to his lips.
“Did you know my research shows the copulation between our species is remarkably similar?” He didn’t mean for it to be provocative, yet her gaze dipped.
He hardened because she looked. It was shocking and exciting and annoying all at once. Frustrating, too, as she declared, “There will be no sex.”
“Are you a virgin?”
The redness in her cheeks proved even more vivid than her hair. “Would you stop that? My sex life is none of your business.”
“It will be. Feel free to tell me what you like done. Or don’t…” He grinned widely. “I can experiment until I discover what you enjoy.”
She practically exploded. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
“Until you ask for it. Agreed.”
“Excuse me but I wasn’t conducting a bargain. And I don’t appreciate you harassing me.”
He took on a patient tone as he said, “I am discussing it with you. If you don’t want to talk about how you’ll be tearing stripes into my back, then we can change the subject.”
“Hell yes. Change the subject.”
“What would you prefer to discuss?”
“How about the fact that you seem intelligent until you open your mouth and claim to believe in a god?”
“Goddess,” he corrected. “Karma, the embodiment of chance.”
“I guess you’re not a good disciple given your bad luck.”
“Bad how? I set out to find my sykyrah, and here you are.” He knew it would annoy her. He was right.
She stamped her foot. “I thought you said you would stop.”
“Talking about sex. This is fate and Karma’s will.”
“You should think about switching religions,” she growled. “Maybe find a new god or goddess who lets you make your own choices. Wouldn’t you like to fall in love the proper way?”
“Are you saying I haven’t?”
For a moment she gaped at him before sputtering, “How can you love a stranger?”
She asked an interesting question, which meant it deserved a well-reasoned reply. “Strangers only when it comes to cognitive elements. The unders
tanding of personalities is something that takes time, conversation, and experiences created together. But that covers only the emotional aspect. Chemically, a proper match occurs upon meeting, instantaneously without need of words or even actions.”
“Fancy words don’t make it science.”
“Actually, they do, because we have the studies to prove the existence of a sykyrah bond. Do you think you’re the first skeptic?” There was a time when his people used to fight the sykyrah, wondering why they had to obey, especially when the bond struck between a pair belonging to warring tribes.
“Are you trying to tell me that people have managed to dissect these so-called matings? How?” she snorted. “Did they send out a survey and say hey, are you happy in your arranged marriage?”
“No need to have couples submit anything given a sykyrah bond is very noticeable, not to mention measurable on a few scales.”
“And because of some tests you’re going to claim instant love between people who never met before?” she challenged.
“That’s how it happens most often. The turning of a corner, the sudden meeting of eyes.”
“Then what? Lightning bolt?”
“It’s a jolt of something. It’s hard to explain.” He shrugged.
“But you felt it? With me?” she specified, making it obvious she hadn’t experienced the same.
“We wouldn’t be talking otherwise.”
“It’s one-sided only,” she stressed. “I don’t feel a thing.”
“You will,” he said with assurance.
Her lips flattened. “These sudden bonds, how many of them are successful long term? Do you have a lot of divorce?”
The definition was a foreign concept. “There is no dissolution of a sykyrah bond, ever.”
“What if the hubby turns out to be an abusive drunk? Or the wife cheats?”
“A mated pair would never harm each other.”
“If that’s true, then why do I want to slit your throat?”
“Want and do are two mightily different things.” He didn’t worry given she’d sheathed her knives. “I’m sure in time I’ll make you content enough you’ll just want to strangle me.”
“As if I’d ever be content,” she huffed, only to quickly correct herself by saying, “We’d never work.”
“Then we’d be one of the few couples to fail.”