The Exo Project

by Andrew DeYoung

  Matthew moved a few steps forward, his face gripped with pain. “Kiva, I—”

  “And we’re going to be enemies, after all?” Kiva asked—though it wasn’t really a question. She knew. Somehow, she knew.

  Matthew walked all the way forward and sank to his knees right in front of her. “It’s my mother, and my sister, they—”

  “Don’t,” Kiva interrupted again. “You don’t have to explain.”

  Matthew’s face took on a pleading look as he moved beside her. “It will be a while before they get here. One hundred years—one hundred seasons. Unless they’ve found a way to travel faster. Either way, I’ll have to go back into cryostasis while I wait for them to arrive. But at least you’ll have time to prepare the Vagri, for when my people arrive. And maybe when they get here and I wake up, I’ll be able to convince them to leave the Vagri alone. Let your people have their own little patch of land where they can live in peace. You’ll be older then, or even dead—I’ll still try. I owe you that much.”

  Kiva closed her eyes as Matthew went on talking. She wished he’d stop. Just a day ago he’d admitted that his people destroyed everything they touched—that they’d destroy her people and their way of life if they came to live on Gle’ah. Whether that happened tomorrow or a hundred seasons from now scarcely mattered.

  But at the moment, Kiva was barely thinking of her people. All she cared about was that Matthew had chosen, and that he hadn’t chosen her. Hadn’t chosen them. He was ready to throw away everything they had together. Everything they might have been.

  The more Matthew talked, the further and further away their moment of delicious freedom on the plain seemed to recede. Their stolen kiss, so far from the pressures of her people, and his. It seemed to have happened so long ago now, in a completely different world. Kiva wished they could go back to that world.

  And so, finally, when Matthew would not stop talking, Kiva turned toward him, put a hand against his chest as she leaned into his body, and stopped his mouth with a kiss.

  This time it was Matthew who was hesitant, his lips stiff against his teeth as Kiva pressed her mouth into his. Slowly, his mouth softened, then parted slightly, his breath coming more quickly in his nostrils.

  Emboldened, Kiva took her hand away from Matthew’s chest and stole it down under his shirt as she leaned further into him. Beneath the tight fabric, Kiva ran her hand up to his chest, then trailed her fingers back down again, to the tangle of black hairs just below his navel. Matthew’s breath caught in his chest and he put his hand on hers, stopping it from descending any further—but not, Kiva noted, pushing it away from his body.

  “What are you doing?” Matthew whispered.

  “Pretending,” Kiva said. “Pretending that I’m not the Vagra, and you’re not a Stranger. Pretending that none of this is happening.”

  Matthew shook his head. “But it’s not that simple.”

  “I don’t care,” Kiva said. “I’ve been alone ever since I had my first vision, right on this spot. It took me away from my family, from my friends. No one understood me, understood what I was going through. Then you came and I thought maybe it didn’t have to be that way. That maybe I didn’t have to be alone in this world.”

  “But it doesn’t have to—”

  Kiva wrested her hand away from Matthew’s stomach and set her finger on his mouth. “Just let me talk. I need to say this. And you need to listen.”

  Matthew was still for a moment. He nodded.

  “What you said about it feeling like home when you look at me—I feel that way too, okay? But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how we feel. Whatever happened out there between you and me, it ends right here, right now. When we leave this spot, you’ll go back to your ship and do whatever you have to do, and I’ll go back to my village and do whatever I have to do. And it will be over. So can’t we just pretend, for a second, that it isn’t happening? Can’t we just be in this moment, before it all falls apart?”

  Kiva stopped and waited for Matthew to answer, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved through the few inches of space that separated them and kissed her—softly, tenderly, his mouth half-open and tasting sweet on Kiva’s tongue.

  Kiva put her hand on his chest again and pushed him down until his back touched the ground. Then she threw her leg over his waist and straddled him, her knees settling gently into the web of grass on either side of his body, her dress creeping up on her thighs. She crossed her arms to reach down for the hem. Then she pulled the dress over her head and cast it aside in a single movement.

  Matthew’s hands rested on her hips and his breath caught in his chest as his eyes drank her in. For a slow moment they stayed like that, just looking at each other. Kiva saw a hesitation flicker across Matthew’s face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you really want this?” Matthew asked. “Do you really want me?”

  Kiva frowned. “Yes. Don’t you?”

  “Of course!” There was a laugh in Matthew’s voice, and he sat up and wrapped his arms around Kiva, buried his head against her chest. The air was cool, but his skin felt hot to the touch, almost feverish. “More than anything.”

  Kiva tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she felt Matthew’s mouth move against her breasts. She reached down, fumbling for his shirt. Matthew raised his arms as she pulled the shirt off and threw it to the side.

  Together, they fell back to the ground. Holding herself up on her forearms, Kiva kissed Matthew fiercely, pressing her tongue deep into his mouth. Matthew ran his hands softly down her back. She let out a soft moan. When Matthew’s hands reached her hips, he pulled her close and rolled her over onto her back.

  For a few moments, they simply looked into each other’s eyes. Kiva brushed Matthew’s cheek with the back of her hand.

  “Did you know this was going to happen?” Matthew asked. “Was this something you saw in one of your visions?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “And yet here we are.”

  Kiva smiled. “Yes. Here we are.”

  She darted her head forward to seize Matthew’s lower lip softly between her teeth, then sank back to the ground, pulling him with her.

  They didn’t talk anymore after that.

  65

  po

  As Po walked to the village, the Great Mother began to sink low in the sky behind his back, throwing his shadow out in front of him. He watched the silhouette stride out ahead. He followed it, feeling for a moment—though he knew better—that the shadow was a sort of companion. No matter how quickly he ran, he’d never get ahead of it, never leave it behind. His shadow would be with him always.

  Before he’d left the Forsaken camp, Xendr Chathe had called him into his dwelling.

  “Kyne will require an answer,” he’d said. “We must respond to her offer of alliance.”

  Po nodded.

  “The woman, the Stranger,” Xendr said. “The Vagra told you to bring her here?”

  “Yes. Dunne. She has tools that can help us understand the maiora.”

  “Good,” Xendr said firmly. “Perhaps the Vagra is right. Perhaps these Strangers can be useful to us.”

  “And Kyne’s offer?”

  Xendr raised his head to Po. “Tell her we reject her offer of alliance. Then go to the Vagra and tell her what Kyne offered to us. She deserves to know that she has a traitor in her midst.”

  Now, as Po walked on, he allowed his steps to slow as he thought about what would happen to him next. By rejecting Kyne’s offer, Xendr was passing up the chance to move back to the village—but Po was determined to return to the village soon, one way or another. All Po had ever wanted since he was young was to have his own hut, to be chosen by one of the Sisters as a mate, and to raise children with her. As a boy, he’d dreamed that it might be Kiva who’d choose him to father her children—and he’d held on to that dream, stupidly, even after Kyne had used it to manipulate him into joining the Forsaken.

  But he and K
iva could never be together. She was the Vagra, and now that Kyne’s plot to overthrow her had failed, she’d always be Vagra.

  Po knew this. But there was a part of him, still, that couldn’t accept it, that still dreamed of Kiva’s face at night, that still heard her voice, that still imagined what it would feel like to touch her and feel the warmth of her body pressed against his.

  Then there was what she’d told him yesterday. Her words still echoed in Po’s ears.

  Po, when this is over …

  I want you to come back to the village. Build a hut and plant a garden. Find a mate. Have babies. Have a life.

  Kiva hadn’t been talking about herself, Po knew that. But implicit in her words, Po thought, was the suggestion that if things had been different, if Kiva weren’t Vagra …

  Something moved at the top of Po’s peripheral vision, and he flicked his eyes up, following the long line of his ever-growing shadow toward the horizon, where—

  Kiva and Matthew. They lay together some distance outside the village, beyond the bottom of the rise, nestled together in the cleft of a small bump in the flatness of the plain. They were …

  No. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  Po crouched down, fearing to be seen. He reached a hand off to one side and clutched at the tops of the grass as if for balance. His fingers ground the dry blades together in his palm. Anger surged through his body.

  Could it really be her?

  Po squinted and saw, unmistakably, Kiva’s face over Matthew’s pale shoulder, her eyes closed and her expression twisted into a look that could have been pleasure and could have been pain.

  Po glanced off to the side and yanked at the grass that he had clenched in his right hand. The roots came out of the ground with a tearing sound. He cast the grass to the side. Then he crept away, keeping low, only standing once he’d come down the other side of the hill and was certain that Matthew and Kiva wouldn’t see him.

  Then he froze.

  Another of the Strangers was standing before him. The other boy, the boy with the gun—Sam, they called him.

  Po’s fingers twitched at his side; he didn’t have his weapon. Then he saw that Sam didn’t have a weapon, either.

  The boy’s eyes flashed with anger all the same, and Po clenched his fists, preparing for a fight.

  But Sam didn’t run at him. Didn’t attack. Instead, he flicked his gaze over Po’s shoulder to the low hill that separated them from Kiva and Matthew—and Po understood at once that Sam had seen what he’d seen.

  Sam spoke, said something that Po couldn’t understand, then he opened his mouth wide and let loose a dark, mirthless laugh that made Po’s blood turn to ice. Po backed away, fearful of what Sam might do. But he only turned and left, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

  Po hurried back to the Forsaken camp. Now the Great Mother was in front of him, his shadow following rather than leading him. He couldn’t see it, but he knew that if he turned around, it would be there.

  In the camp, he made straight for Xendr Chathe’s hut.

  “Back so soon? What did the Vagra say?”

  Po shook his head. “I didn’t speak with her.”

  “No? What about Kyne?”

  “I didn’t talk to her either. Something happened.”

  Xendr’s face darkened. He waited for Po to go on.

  “Kiva. The Vagra. I saw her in the field just outside the village. She was with that Stranger boy—the one they call Matthew. They were … they were mating.”

  Xendr’s hand tightened into a fist. He was silent, but Po could see his jaw working—tightening and loosening, tightening and loosening.

  “You’re sure?” Xendr asked.

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  Xendr blinked, looked down. “A Stranger,” he muttered to himself. “It’s one thing to make peace with them, another to …”

  His head snapped up and he gave Po a piercing stare.

  “You understand what this means,” he said.

  “Yes,” Po said. “My sister was right. Kiva’s loyalties aren’t with the Vagri anymore. She’s unfit to be Vagra. We have to side with Kyne.”

  Xendr nodded and waved Po away. “Go. Gather the Forsaken. I want ten of the best fighters in the camp. Tell them what’s happening. Tell them we leave at nightfall.”

  66

  matthew

  They dressed in silence afterwards, not meeting each other’s eyes. Matthew pulled his shirt over his head and then stole a glance at Kiva as he pushed his arms through the sleeves. Fully dressed, she’d turned her back to him and was running her hands through her hair, pulling out tangles and bits of grass that had lodged between the strands.

  After she was done, she stood and walked away, leaving Matthew behind on the ground.

  “Wait!” he shouted after her, then scrambled to his feet to follow. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

  She kept on walking without answering. Matthew grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. She tried to pull away, her shoulders rising protectively toward her ears as if his touch were causing her pain.

  “Just let me go,” she said quietly, not looking at him. “Let me go. Please.”

  “What’s going on? Just a minute ago, you—”

  “Don’t,” she said, then loosened her shoulders and looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and wounded, and Matthew bit at his lower lip, realizing for the first time the depth of the betrayal he was about to commit. Kiva would never forgive him. After he returned to the Corvus and called Earth to tell the truth at last, things between them would never be the same.

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Kiva said. “Go back to your ship. Do what you need to do. This was …” Her gaze drifted down to the spot where they’d been lying together just a few moments earlier.

  “This was what?” Matthew prodded.

  Kiva smiled, but there was pain in her eyes. “We were just pretending, remember?” Her voice trembled. “Pretending that I wasn’t the Vagra, pretending that you weren’t a Stranger.”

  Matthew’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t pretending anything. And neither were you. I know you weren’t. Why can’t we be together, the way we really are—no pretending?”

  Kiva shook her head. “It’s not that simple—you know it’s not. You told me the same thing yesterday. I have my people, and you have yours. I have my responsibilities as Vagra, and you have your mission. You’ve made your choice. Now let me make mine. Let me go.”

  Matthew released Kiva’s arm. She turned and hiked up the rise. Matthew stood and watched her as she disappeared over the other side, into the village, then stayed there a few minutes more, halfhoping that she’d come back and he’d get one more look at her.

  After a while, he turned away from the rise and pointed his steps toward the Corvus.

  Halfway between the village and the ship, the roar of an engine cut the air. Matthew lifted his head. A few seconds later, Dunne came rocketing over the far hill on the speeder. She cut the thrusters and the speeder slowed. It came to a halt not far from Matthew. Dunne swung her leg over and dropped to the ground.

  “I was just walking back to the ship,” Matthew said. “I’m going to call Mission Control. I’m going to tell them—”

  “I found something,” Dunne cut in, as breathless as if she’d been running across the plain to intercept him. “You have to come see.”

  “But what about Earth?” Matthew protested. “They have my mother and sister. Your grandson.”

  Dunne shook her head. “They can wait. This is important. I need your help.”

  Matthew glanced at the speeder. The levitation couplings on the underside of the speeder glowed blue as the thrusters at the back cooled, giving off a thin stream of smoke into the evening air.

  “Okay,” he said, looking back at Dunne. “Let’s go.”

  Dunne leapt back on the speeder and Matthew straddled the seat behind her.

  “Hold on,” she said, and Matthew put
his hands on her waist just in time, a split second before she fired the thrusters and sent them rocketing toward the sunset.

  kiva

  Regret flooded over Kiva as soon as she came over the top of the rise and began descending into the village. At the bottom of the hill, she paused and looked back, thought about running over to the other side to see Matthew one more time.

  But no. She continued toward the hut at the edge of the village where she’d grown up, and shook her head to herself. Best to keep moving. What was done was done. She forced her steps forward and picked her way slowly through the cluster of huts toward the center of the village.

  Back on the plain, a fierce anger had risen up inside her as she’d gotten dressed, bubbling up into her throat from her stomach like bile. It wasn’t Matthew she was angry at, not really. What was happening wasn’t his fault. But he was the only person there, the only possible object to absorb her fury at the unfairness of it all. What they had together was real. But now, before it really started, it had to end.

  Kiva thought about her options as she walked through the village. She could do what Kyne had been arguing for all along—go to the Forsaken and have them kill Matthew and the other Strangers before they called their people to Gle’ah. She’d have to move quickly; Matthew would probably bring the humans to Gle’ah as soon as he got back to his ship. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t have him killed—not after everything they’d shared.

  Her only other choice was to tell the truth, then spend the rest of her life preparing the Vagri for the day when the humans brought their millions, their billions, to Gle’ah. The humans had already destroyed one planet, but perhaps with Kiva’s leadership, the Vagri could guide them toward a new way of living—a way of living in peace and harmony with the land, guided by the Ancestors.

  It would be difficult—perhaps even impossible. If Kiva had learned anything, it was that violence, fighting, and conflict were always the easier choices when two peoples collided. If tensions erupted between her people and Matthew’s, the Vagri would almost certainly be destroyed.