Wings of Retribution

by Sara King

  In all of her years, she hadn’t 1) bred humans as science projects, 2) sold or otherwise dealt in sentient flesh, 3) satisfied her ego by making billions worship her as a god, 4) pretended spiritual enlightenment to wide-eyed students while simultaneously heading an entire planetary criminal organization, nor 5) introduced an invasive species with the intent to destroy native wildlife. She might’ve planted chamomile in her garden that spread over a hillside or two, but that was an accident. Besides, it was pretty. And it didn’t have teeth.

  “You were dead, human,” Taal said again.

  “If only,” Athenais snorted. She glanced over at him. The wound appeared to be doing better. “You gonna be okay? You need me to get you something to eat?”

  Taal snorted. “So you can get stranded again? No thanks, human.”

  “The name is Athenais, not ‘human.’” Athenais growled.

  He gave her a flat, fishy stare. “You are a human to me until you prove otherwise.”

  “Oh mercy.” Athenais rolled her eyes and got to her feet. She walked up to him, ignoring the way his entire muscular length stiffened. She squatted beside the wound to get a better look. “This might need to be bandaged. You got anything suitable?” Upon closer inspection, something white poking from the pink caught her attention and Athenais realized there was a shark tooth stuck in the gash. She reached out to remove it.

  She was rewarded with a six-foot length of scale and muscle slamming into her face, knocking her completely off of her feet in a starburst of lights and broken bone. She rolled backwards, stunned, and stared at the sky as she felt the bones in her skull knitting back together.

  He just tried to kill me, she realized, a little stunned.

  When she had regained enough of her senses to sit up, she scooted backwards and gave him an irritated look. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you harebrained squid. We’re in the same damned boat!”

  Taal had been staring at her, obviously surprised she’d sat up. He hid it well, however, with a casual, seal-like snort. “I’m not afraid of you, human. I just don’t like to be touched by a disgusting land animal.”

  “Disgusting land…” She narrowed her eyes. For a creature that looked like some sort of diseased fish-seal hybrid, he was one to talk. She snorted. “You’ve got a tooth stuck in there. Have fun getting it out.”

  Irritated at Life, Athenais got up and started wandering the beach. She circled the island once, scouting for any sign of land or other civilization. Finding none, she circled three more times, hoping she’d missed something. A boat would be nice. Or an abandoned spaceship. Perhaps a nice cooler of beer. A decommissioned underground compound with long-forgotten missile silos would be even better. A missile up the ass would do Juno good. Hell, someone should make it a regular occurrence.

  When Athenais finished her fourth circuit, the alien’s wide, seal-like snout was red with blood, but the tooth was still embedded in the wound. Neither of them spoke.

  Athenais watched his membranous tail as it dried in the sun. He kept twitching it, giving the water looks of longing, but making no attempt to re-enter the crimson surf.

  Probably a wise thing. Athenais could see shark fins skimming the surface here and there, just beyond the foam of the waves.

  After awhile of letting the sun bake the stubborn fool, Athenais finally took pity on him and retrieved some water, which she started splashing over his dehydrated body. He must’ve sensed Athenais would have left him there to become a crispy little fish-stick if he’d hit her a second time, because he remained remarkably docile, even going so far as to turn his head to ignore her completely.

  When Athenais was done, she sat down a couple feet away and examined him. “So why’d you help me?”

  Taal grunted, inspecting the opposite side of the beach.

  “Come on.”

  Taal refused to look at her.

  “Did you think I could help you conquer the Invaders? Did you want a pet? Were you lonely? What?”

  Taal’s head snapped back to scowl at her. “You talk too much, human.”

  “I’m stranded on a deserted island. Of course I’m gonna talk.”

  He squinted at her, huge alien pupils contracting. “So what are you? You haven’t fooled me. You’re not human.” He pointed at her leg and her face with his snout.

  Athenais winced. How was she going to explain that one to a lower life-form? It had bigger things to worry about. Like sharks. “Uh,” Athenais said, “It’s a new form of magic.”

  Taal seemed to accept that, because he grunted and looked back out at the waves, his huge alien eyes following the shark-fins as they split the crimson-tainted sea. It was clear enough he was judging whether or not he could make it past their barricade and into the deeper waters beyond.

  Seeing he was distracted, Athenais glanced again at the liquid-filled bulb on his neck, trying to figure out if it was a wart or a natural growth. It looked like a bubble of pus. With an air-bubble. She got all squirmy thinking about how much that had to hurt. A lesion of some sort. Had to be. Athenais wondered if she would be doing him a favor by knocking him out and hacking it off.

  She only had that thought for a moment, but like the damned creature had sensors on the back of his head, Taal whipped around to bare his white, needle-like teeth at her in a pretty obvious I Would Be Happy To Eat Your Face snarl. “Keep your eyes to yourself, human,” he barked at her.

  Like she’d just been eying his baby, considering what it would be like to roast it on a spit. “Why are you so touchy about that stupid hump?” Athenais demanded. “It an egg or something?” Now that was an unpleasant thought. She’d heard yeasts sprouted more yeast in little bulbs like that. Immediately, she imagined having to endure a human face growing out of her back with every pregnancy and suddenly felt sorry for the poor bloke. How…icky.

  Taal hadn’t answered. In fact, he was acting as if she hadn’t even spoken.

  “So what’s with the hump?” she repeated. “Why so sensitive about it?”

  For a long moment, Athenais didn’t think he was going to answer her. She sighed and got up to get more water, knowing the fool was probably already into his grave. In her relatively small experience planetbound, sea creatures didn’t last very long in the sun. Especially this kind of sun.

  “The Invaders kill us for it,” Taal muttered, on her eighth or ninth trip. “They capture youngsters and grow them in ponds to harvest their fluid.”

  Athenais raised a brow, but kept carrying water. Conversationally, she said, “They harvest their fluid. Sounds sexual.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Is that how you know the language? Did you escape?”

  He scoffed. “I’m talking with you in your head, human. The language is always the same, there.”

  Athenais stared at him.

  “See?” His muzzle never moved.

  She scooted back a pace, stunned she had not realized it before. “You can read my mind?”

  “Unfortunately,” Taal said.

  Athenais threw down the handful of water she’d collected in a disgusted cry and went off stalking around the island a couple more times. She felt Taal’s eyes on her the entire time. And, paranoidly, she thought maybe his mind, too.

  Finally, exhausted and defeated, Athenais came back to her starting point and sat down a good twenty feet from him. “You need more water?” she shouted.

  Taal laughed at her. “Humans are loud and stupid, like sirens. I could hear you three miles off.”

  Three miles… No wonder Juno wanted this particular rock. Athenais dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t believe you,” she muttered.

  “Yes you do.”

  “Prove it,” she snarled.

  He squinted at her with his big, stupid alien eyes. “You’re afraid.”

  Athenais snorted. “You’re deluding yourself.”

  “Not of me. Of yourself.”

  Athenais flinched and looked away. That sounded way too much like the emo little tantru
ms her last shrink had thrown at her.

  But the alien didn’t take the hint. He squinted at her, his fishy eyes boring into her skull. “You think you died,” he said, getting excited. “That first time… You wonder if you’re really dead and just don’t know it. You wonder if your soul departed and whatever’s left only thinks you’re still—”

  “Enough!” Athenais got to her feet and stalked to the other side of the island to sit down, shaking. Seated by herself in the sand, she stared out at the ocean until dusk. Taal either couldn’t broadcast that far, or had decided not to push matters, because she didn’t hear another word.

  When she returned, Taal was sleeping. She splashed water on his parched scales and walked back to her side of the island. She lay down to stare up at the stars. She was hungry and thirsty.

  Several times the next day, she splashed Taal and retreated. He never attempted to make conversation, but she knew he was awake, watching her.

  That evening, he was gone.

  Athenais stood staring down at the depression he had left in the sand, then sighed and slumped to the ground. Before she knew what she was doing, she put her head in her hands and cried.

  “They’ve got me flying cargo,” Dallas said indignantly. “After I graduated the Academy! Cargo!”

  Shut up already, Stuart snapped. You’re gonna get us caught.

  “But it’s cargo,” Dallas whined. “I hate cargo.”

  Dallas, Stuart warned.

  “Fine,” she sighed, returning to loading the bay with crates of pottery. “But you better have an idea how you’re getting me my ship back.”

  Finding the pirate would be a good start.

  Dallas dropped the crate she was carrying. Chips of clay scattered across the metal bay floor with musical tinkles. “Athenais? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  Damn it, Dallas, keep your mouth shut! You’re supposed to be a zombie, remember?!

  “How come I always end up saving that bitch’s ass?” Dallas muttered, picking up the crate. “How come we don’t go find Rabbit, instead? I like Rabbit.”

  That’s it. I warned you. Stuart took control and began loading the crates in silence, just as he had taken control when they had led her into that little white room. This time, however, he left her senses intact.

  You’re just jealous, Dallas said.

  I am not.

  Really? Prove it.

  You’re acting like a child.

  I want my ship back. If I have to go rescue that bitter old hag to get it, I’ll do it. I’d just rather rescue a cute, witty little bartender who happens to have enough money to keep my warship supplied with fuel cells.

  We’ll find him, too.

  Good. Squirrel told me he’s good in bed.

  Stuart dropped the crate.

  Ha! See?! You are jealous!

  Stuart bent to hastily stuff the broken pieces under the cloth wrapping. That’s ridiculous. We’re not even the same base composition. Totally different species. Incompatible in every sense of the word.

  What are you talking about? I’m letting you use my brain. We’re working out pretty well, I’d say. We find you a body and I might even be able to have your kid.

  Technically, you would be having my host’s kid.

  Who cares? I’d get to raise her with you.

  Why are you so sure it’d be a girl?

  Because the York women only have girl children. We’re notorious for it.

  No gene mutation?

  Nope.

  Then it’s completely random. You have a fifty percent chance either way.

  Nah. I’m having a girl. My grandma told me.

  Your grandma a prophet?

  Nope.

  Then it’s completely random, Stuart repeated frustratedly. You have just as much chance of having a boy.

  So you want a boy, not a girl? She let her disappointment show.

  I never said I wanted a kid, Stuart stammered. I only said— He paused as Tommy passed them dressed in the skimpy Xenith style, staring straight ahead and moving without any stiffness to his normally rigid spine. The colonel collided with a young Stranger carrying boxes through the spaceport. He picked himself up and gave the apologetic Stranger a dazed look, then glanced blankly around the room. His eyes passed over Dallas and Stuart, but there was no recognition in them whatsoever. Finally, Tommy turned and started wandering in the opposite direction than the one he had been traveling.

  You know, brainwashing isn’t a very productive process, is it? They seem so scatterheaded.

  Usually it works better. He must have been stubborn.

  Is it reversible?

  Not usually.

  Poor guy. But you know, he does look happier. He’s not frowning all the time. And he doesn’t look like he’s walking around with something stuck up his ass.

  Maybe it’s for the better.

  I think so. You think Athenais will want to leave him here when we go?

  She wouldn’t want to waste the money on sending him to a shrink.

  You ask me, she needs to spend a few days on the couch herself. She’s crazy. Why the heck did she wander out into the ocean like that? Just walked right past that huge monster and started swimming around. She’s got a few bolts loose, I tell you.

  I’m not sure. Maybe she saw the ships approaching.

  She could have warned us.

  Keep in mind she’s got a few thousand years on each of us. Give the woman a break.

  Why should I? She basically kidnapped me, after the Corps fired me. She’s only gotten me into trouble ever since, and to top it all off, she fired me for deciding to stay with her instead of getting my old job back. She got her whole crew killed back on T-9 and we’ve had nothing but bad luck since then. She actually tried to take my ship away from me after I spent eight hours fighting the urge to throw up because I was dodging missiles from Erriat’s war fleet at zero gravity to save her ass. I just want to punch her buckteeth in.

  Don’t forget who started this whole mess, Dallas. We’d be well on our way to Millennium with Squirrel and Goat and Dune if you hadn’t ratted us out.

  Dallas recoiled, shocked that Stuart could even think it.

  When he did not apologize, she withdrew, hurt. If Stuart thought she was responsible, what did the others think?

  Even more important, what if it was true?

  Athenais was lying on the sand, watching the interesting string of penis-shaped clouds to the west, when Taal slipped out of the ocean and dragged himself up the bank. He wound was red and raw, but no longer bleeding. He flopped toward her and, before she knew what he was doing, he crawled on top of her and pressed his lips to hers. Athenais accepted the water he offered, but broke into hysterical laughter after he was done.

  “Reduced to mouth-to-mouth with a fish,” she laughed.

  “Here,” Taal said, and tossed her what looked like an octopus.

  Athenais looked at the sandy lump at her feet and laughed harder.

  “It’s food,” he said.

  “Why are you keeping me on this island?” she asked.

  Taal looked away.

  “That’s not fair. If you can read my mind, I deserve to have a few answers.”

  He glanced at her, fishy eyes inhumanly wide. “You’re a space captain. I could feel it.”

  “So?”

  He hesitated. “Can you take me into space with you?”

  Athenais stared at him. Her gaze fell on his tail, then back on his face. “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s been done,” he said quickly. “Sometimes they ship youngsters to another planet to breed them there.”

  “In an aquarium,” Athenais said. “I’ve shipped stuff like that myself.”

  “So why can’t you take me? I could help you.”

  Athenais glanced over at the sandy octopus and started laughing again. “You want to go into space? With fins? Are you nuts?”

  Without another word, Taal rolled back into the ocean. Too late, Athenais realized she had made a
mistake.

  Taal didn’t return for three days except to give her water and food. Every time she tried to talk to him, he ignored her. Finally, she could take it no longer. As he was turning away, she grabbed his muzzle and twisted his head around until he was facing her.

  “Look,” she said, “Maybe we can work something out.”

  Taal could have jerked away and cut up her hand, but he didn’t.

  “After all,” Athenais said, “You did save my life.” She released him. “But I gotta tell you, the tough part will be getting my ship back. Juno confiscated it.”

  Taal looked up at her with silver eyes that betrayed his excitement. Suddenly, he looked like a five-year-old child that had been told he could go to the zoo, and Athenais realized with sudden certainty that, to the alien community, that’s exactly what he was. A toddler. A baby. Probably of the same breed as the massive leviathan that had muddled her thoughts back on the deserted island.

  “You promise?” Taal babbled. “Swear on your father’s name.”

  “I’ll swear on my own name,” Athenais said, mouth twisting in disgust. “And my honor. You get me back to my ship and I’ll take you off this planet with me. At least until you get too big. We’ll buy a nice tank for you to ride in and everything. As Athenais Owlbourne, I swear it.”

  “Then I’ll take you to land.” Taal slid back into the ocean and waited for her amidst the waves.

  When Ragnar opened his eyes, he was once again fitted with a shock collar. Groggily, he looked around. He was in the same spartan bedroom, but the morning sunlight was easing its way through the seaward window in the wall. Below, he could hear the pounding of waves against the rock foundation.

  He went to the door and tried to open it. It was locked from the outside.

  Ragnar pounded on the seaweed matting. “Hello? Hey, why am I still here?”

  From the other side, he heard muffled footsteps hurry away.

  Ragnar stepped back and glanced at the window. He climbed onto the bed and stuck his head out the opening. From there, it was a fifty foot drop directly into the wave-thrashed rocks. He pulled his head back inside and began to pace.