The Krinar Captive

by Anna Zaires

  “I’m talking about the fact that we created your species… all the species on this planet, really.” Zaron paused, letting that sink in. “If it hadn’t been for us, there wouldn’t be life on Earth.”

  Her eyes widened, an expression of disbelief stealing across her face. “What? Are you saying you made us? Like in a lab or something?”

  “No, not in a lab,” Zaron said. He was about to launch into a lengthy scientific explanation but caught himself in time. “What we did was plant some DNA here a couple of billion years ago,” he said instead. “Then we nudged your evolution along, helping a Krinar-like species emerge over time.” This was a gross oversimplification, but he didn’t think Emily needed all the evolutionary subtleties at this point.

  As it was, Emily’s mouth opened and closed without making a sound. Zaron could practically see the workings of her agile brain inside that pretty little skull. She didn’t know if she could trust him or not, and her initial inclination was to reject anything that didn’t fit into her existing worldview. But she couldn’t deny what she’d seen today.

  “A couple of billion years ago?” she asked, staring at him. “You’re telling me that your civilization is that old?”

  Zaron nodded. “Yes, we’ve been around for a very long time. Our planet is much older than yours.”

  Emily drew in a shuddering breath. “I see.” Raising her hands, she rubbed her temples again, as though suffering from a headache.

  Zaron’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the idea of her being in pain—not if he could help it. It was a strange thing, but on some level he felt as though she belonged to him and her well-being was his responsibility. Crossing the room in a few strides, he stopped in front of her. “Emily… Do you need me to get you some medicine?”

  Lowering her hands to her sides, she looked up at him, her thickly lashed eyes more green than blue in this light. “No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a lot to take in.”

  “Of course.” Zaron again felt the urge to pull her into his arms—this time to soothe her. Unfortunately, she was not yet ready for that kind of intimacy, and any move he made in that direction was more likely to scare her than reduce her anxiety. He settled for giving her a reassuring smile. “I understand.”

  “I’m still in Costa Rica, right?” she asked, her delicate eyebrows coming together as if the idea had just occurred to her. “I’m not somewhere on your ship, am I?”

  “No, you’re not—and yes, we are in Costa Rica. We’re only about a dozen miles away from that bridge. Like I told you, this is my home for now.”

  Her forehead smoothed out, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “Oh, I see.” She appeared relieved, and Zaron suppressed a smile of his own, knowing her question was likely inspired by her culture’s stereotype of alien abductions.

  Watching the girl, Zaron realized that he hadn’t felt this lighthearted in years. He’d never spent much time with a human before, and he hadn’t expected to find it so enjoyable. From her driver’s license, he knew that Emily was twenty-four—little more than an adolescent compared to his own six-hundred-plus years. However, she seemed more mature than a Krinar of the same age, likely because her species generally reached full adulthood by that time.

  It suddenly struck him that for the past hour, he hadn’t thought about Larita once. A sharp stab of agony accompanied that realization, and he immediately pushed the thought away. He liked the way he felt around this human girl, and he intended to hold on to that feeling.

  Emily cleared her throat, drawing his attention back to her. “Zaron,” she said quietly, holding his gaze, “I haven’t thanked you yet for healing me. I remember that fall, and I know I should’ve died”—she swallowed, her voice growing thick—“and I can’t even begin to thank you for doing whatever it was that you did—”

  “It’s okay, Emily,” Zaron interrupted, sensing that she was on the verge of tears. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  She swallowed again, then gave him a wry, tremulous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all emotional on you. I guess even aliens get squeamish when a girl is about to cry, huh?”

  “You have no idea,” Zaron said dryly. He hated seeing a woman’s tears; they made him feel helpless. Whenever Larita cried, he’d bend over backwards to fix whatever was bothering her. Emily didn’t seem prone to crying, and he liked that. The human girl’s angelic prettiness hid a core of strength that he couldn’t help but admire.

  Emily’s smile widened, lighting up her entire face. “Well, in that case, I won’t cry. I’ll simply say thank you, and that’s that.”

  Zaron laughed. “Good, that’s the way—”

  A soft vibration on his wrist startled him, cutting him off mid-sentence. Glancing down at the computing device he wore on his arm, Zaron saw an urgent message waiting for him. “Excuse me,” he said, giving Emily an apologetic look. “I’ll be right back.”

  Before she could respond, he swiftly walked toward his study.

  A meeting request from the Council always needed to be addressed promptly.

  * * *

  Her heart racing, Emily watched Zaron disappear into the other room. For a second there, she’d felt the beginnings of a genuine connection—a connection that was both exciting and disconcerting.

  He made her nervous, yet she felt drawn to him. When they were talking, she’d found herself wondering what it would be like to trace the straight lines of his eyebrows with her fingertips and feel the texture of his thick, glossy hair. With him standing so near, she had been hyperaware of his large, muscular body—of the purely masculine perfection of him.

  It was ridiculous. He was gorgeous, yes, but by his own admission, he wasn’t human. He was Krinar, an alien from a multi-billion-year-old civilization.

  A civilization that had supposedly created life on Earth.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Emily reflexively rubbed her temples again. When she’d told Zaron that it was a lot to take in, she hadn’t been kidding. Her brain felt like it was about to explode, her thoughts whirling around in circles. She didn’t have a full-blown headache, but there was a definite band of tension around her forehead.

  Sighing, Emily opened her eyes and walked back to the table, sitting down on one of the hovering chairs. When the object moved around her, shaping itself to her body, she purposefully relaxed into the motion, letting it do its thing. She was growing used to some of Zaron’s technology—at least the most basic, domestic kind.

  Just how advanced were they? she wondered, some of the tension draining out of her as the chair began a soothing vibration to relax her muscles. Clearly, Zaron had been able to come to Earth, so they must’ve mastered interstellar travel. Faster-than-light travel, perhaps? According to current scientific theories, such a thing was impossible, but so was healing wounds of the kind Emily must’ve sustained during her fall. Krinar medicine was so far ahead of anything Emily had heard of that she couldn’t even imagine what else they could do. Teleportation, perhaps? There were so many possibilities for cool technology her head was spinning.

  Emily had always had an interest in science, often reading articles about the latest discoveries and watching nature shows on television. Sometimes she even wished she’d chosen biology or astrophysics as a field of study. But she hadn’t. She’d gone into finance instead, lured by the promise of big money on Wall Street. After growing up in foster homes, Emily craved financial security and stability, and banking had seemed like the perfect way to achieve that quickly. To succeed in most scientific fields, one needed a graduate degree—a Ph.D. or at least a Master’s. But to become an investment banking analyst, four years at a prestigious college, a couple of summer internships, and a willingness to work eighty-plus hours a week were more than sufficient. At the age of twenty-four, Emily had been well on her way to achieving her goal of financial security, with her savings account healthy and growing—at least until the stock market took its most recent dive.

  Now her savings had been cut in hal
f, and she had lost the job that had consumed her life for the past two years. Emily waited for the familiar bitterness to wash over her, but all she felt was a mild twinge of disappointment. For the first time since the layoffs, she wasn’t worried about her future. She had far more important things on her mind—like the fact that an alien had saved her life.

  The sheer insanity of that thought almost made her laugh out loud. For a moment, she again had that dizzying Alice-in-Wonderland sensation, but then she took a few calming breaths and got a grip on herself. She needed to be able to think without freaking out because if Zaron’s claims were true, the implications were simply staggering.

  There was another intelligent species out there—a species far more advanced than humans. A species that had supposedly indirectly created humans. What did they want? Why was Zaron here, living in a Costa Rican jungle? Why had he bothered saving Emily’s life?

  Also, why did no one know about the Krinar? If Zaron’s people were the real creators of mankind, shouldn’t humans have learned about them a long time ago?

  A cold sensation spread through Emily’s body as she drew in a shaky breath, then another and another. Her chest was beginning to feel tight again.

  There was only one answer to that question.

  No one knew about the Krinar because they didn’t want to reveal their existence to humans.

  Yet Zaron had risked exposure by letting Emily see his home, by telling her what he was and where he’d come from. He didn’t seem concerned that she could go to the media with that knowledge, or that he’d potentially compromised what had to be thousands of years of secrecy on the part of his species.

  Slowly rising to her feet, Emily stared at the ivory wall, her hands mindlessly gripping the table.

  Was Zaron telling her all this because he wasn’t going to let her go?

  Chapter Eight

  Entering his study, Zaron activated the meeting mode on his computer and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he was standing inside a large white chamber—the Council gathering place on Krina. He wasn’t there physically, of course, but the simulation was real enough that he could see, feel, touch, and smell everything, almost as if he was there in person.

  There were only three Councilors waiting for him there: Korum, Arus, and Saret. Not a formal meeting then, Zaron realized; that would’ve required all fifteen Council members to be present. Inclining his head in a gesture of respect, he waited to see why he had been summoned.

  The three men standing in front of him were among the most influential on Krina, each of them having been on the Council longer than Zaron had been alive. The Council—the formal ruling body of Krina—was answerable only to the Elders, the nine oldest Krinar in existence. And since the Elders rarely interfered with anything, that meant the Council enjoyed almost unlimited power when it came to passing laws and upholding order in their society.

  Up until two years ago, Zaron had only occasionally met some of the Councilors in social situations. But since the Council had become interested in his research, he’d gotten to know most of its members.

  “It’s good to see you, Zaron,” Arus said, taking a step forward. “Thank you for responding so quickly. We’re about to depart and wanted to catch up with you for a minute to see if you’ve made more progress on selecting the sites.” His expression was pleasant and mildly interested, designed to make one feel at ease. With a background in societal studies, Arus was the consummate politician, well-liked and respected by nearly everyone—Zaron included. It was Arus who had approached him two years ago about heading up the settlement efforts, dragging Zaron out of the bleak depression that had consumed him since Larita’s death.

  “I did,” Zaron answered. “I believe the most promising location is that of the Guanacaste region of Costa Rica.” A flick of his wrist brought up a detailed three-dimensional map of Earth, and he zoomed in on the place he was referring to. “The climate is very comparable to some areas of Krina, and I should be able to alter the soil enough to make it hospitable to many of our edible plants.”

  “What about the other nine Centers?” It was Korum who spoke this time, his unusual amber-colored eyes watching Zaron with cool, piercing intelligence. Of the three Council members present, he was by far the most intimidating, with a reputation for ruthlessness that went far beyond the usual ambition. He was also the driving force behind the upcoming invasion.

  “I have seven of the sites selected,” Zaron told him. “The remaining two will be finalized in the next few weeks. They should be in the United States, so we have a presence there. I’ve narrowed it down to Florida, Arizona, and New Mexico, but each of those places needs to be explored in greater detail before we make our final choice.”

  “Very good.” Arus gave him an approving smile. “That is quite a bit of progress. I suspect that in the first few months, we’ll spend most of our time on the ships anyway, until the human population has had a chance to get accustomed to our presence.”

  “Are you expecting a lot of unrest?” Zaron inquired, trying to picture how everything would unfold. Given Emily’s reaction to his revelations, he suspected many humans would have a difficult time dealing with something so far outside their accepted structure of beliefs.

  “Hopefully, not too much,” Saret responded, speaking for the first time. Considered the top mind expert on Krina, he was quiet and generally laid-back, tending to fade into the background next to the more forceful personalities on the Council. “I expect some will be quite upset when we arrive, but hopefully, once we explain everything—”

  “They’ll adjust.” Korum sounded impatient. “They’ll have no choice in the matter. Besides, from what I’ve observed, their species is quite adaptable.”

  Arus frowned at Korum, then turned back toward Zaron. “Thank you for the update. This is exactly what we were hoping to hear. Is there anything else we should be aware of at this time?”

  “No,” Zaron said, though for some strange reason, he thought of Emily. The Council would not be interested in something as trivial as a human girl staying in his house, so there was no point in informing them about that.

  “In that case, we’ll see you on Earth,” Arus said, and the room blurred around Zaron, causing him to close his eyes.

  When he opened them, the virtual environment of the meeting was gone, and he was standing in his own study.

  * * *

  By the time Zaron came back, Emily was a nervous wreck. She’d gone back to the room that she assumed functioned as the living room—the one with the long, floating plank that turned into the most comfortable couch imaginable when she sat down on it. She’d sat there for a few minutes, thinking about her situation, and then she got up to search for an exit, too wound up to remain still. Running her hands over the walls, she tried to find something, anything, that would indicate the presence of a door, but the walls were frustratingly smooth and warm under her fingers.

  Abandoning that futile task, Emily began to pace.

  As far as she could tell, if Zaron wanted to keep the existence of his people a secret, then he had only three options when it came to Emily. He could let her go and trust her to keep quiet; he could tamper with her memories (assuming they had that kind of technology); or he could do something that would prevent her from telling anyone—such as take her away to his planet when he left. Theoretically, he could also kill her, but that wouldn’t make much sense, since he had gone to all this trouble to save her life.

  She very much hoped he was leaning toward the “trust her” option.

  “Sorry about that.” Zaron’s deep voice broke into Emily’s thoughts, causing her to whirl around in surprise. Despite his size, her savior was incredibly light on his feet. He was already a few feet away, and she hadn’t even heard him enter.

  “Oh, that’s no problem.” Emily gave him an overly bright smile to hide her nervousness. “I’m sure you have many important things to do, and I’m probably distracting you from them. If you don’t mind, I’l
l just be on my way…” Her voice trailed off as Zaron’s expression darkened.

  “You’re not distracting me.” He came toward her, walking without making a sound. For the first time, it struck her that there was something not quite human in the way he moved, something that made her think of a carnivore stalking its prey. “You still need to recover, Emily, and it’s my pleasure to have you as a guest.”

  “Oh no, I feel perfectly fine,” she protested, her pulse jumping at the realization that he was not leaning toward the “trust” option. “Whatever medicine you used on me was amazing, and I’m as healthy as I’ve ever been—”

  “Emily…” Zaron paused a couple of feet away from her, his dark eyes locked on her face. “Please, don’t get stressed. Your body has been through a severe trauma, and you need time to heal fully.”

  “How much time?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks?” Emily stared at him, her unease abating only slightly. “I can’t stay in Costa Rica that long. I have to go back home; my plane tickets are for Saturday.”

  Zaron regarded her silently. “I’ll get you new tickets,” he said after a moment. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Really?” Emily blinked. “You can buy me plane tickets?” What was he going to do, purchase them online with a credit card? Did aliens have credit cards? She pictured him applying for a Mastercard from his spaceship and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into semi-hysterical laughter.

  “Of course.” He looked puzzled by her question. “Human wealth is not something we lack. I can buy you anything you want, Emily.”

  The urge to laugh disappeared without a trace. “That’s very generous of you,” she said, trying to remain calm, “but I would feel terrible asking you to spend your money on me like that.” She attempted a smile again. “Why don’t I just call the airline and have them change my flight date? If you think I’m not in good enough shape to travel, I could probably stay here a couple of extra days. I would just need to make the appropriate arrangements—”