by Marie Dry
“We do not have works of fiction.”
“Really?” It was incredible to think that there was a mighty civilization with no fiction. No films and books and creativity.
“Do you have books?”
“We have what you call libraries. The only books that you might call fiction are the tales of the bloodlines.”
“Bloodlines?”
“It is like family histories.”
It sounded boring, but she kept that opinion to herself. “Do you like our fiction?”
“No.”
“Not even the Star Wars one hundred.”
“It is not realistic.”
They walked silently into the living room and she sat down on the couch. He grunted at the TC and the menu hovered in the air.
“Why do you have a TC? Don’t you have better technology?”
She chose a Space Ranger episode. That should put her to sleep, and maybe she could forget the pain in Sarah’s eyes and the terrible wounds on Larz’s back she couldn’t even clean for him.
“I obtained it for you. The breeders seem to enjoy it.”
The opening tune started.
She shook her head. “That is such a nasty term.” Talking to him helped take her mind off Sarah, but she kept seeing the pain in those pale blue eyes.
“It’s not what humans believe it to be. For Zyrgins, it means someone who brings warriors and, through them, victory to the empire. To us, war and honor is everything.”
She turned to face him, her feet drawn up on the couch and her arms around her knees. “So what do breeders do on your planet?”
Did he expect her to have a lot of alien babies? A picture of a baby with red eyes and a ridged head flashed through her mind. Somehow, she couldn’t see that happening.
“I don’t know?”
“How can you not know?”
“A warrior without a breeder would never look at another warrior’s woman.”
She shivered and suppressed a wince. Her body ached and her skin crawled--and she didn’t know why. She didn’t want to be this person who had terrible flashbacks of hurting innocent people. Resolutely, she watched the opening scene of the episode. The space ranger leaned against a counter in a bar done in twenty-first-century style. “Do you have alcohol on your planet and bars, like that?” she asked Larz and motioned to the image on the TC.
“The Aurelians make the best wine in the galaxy.”
She sat up straight. “You tough warriors drink wine?”
“It’s not as humans know wine. I doubt any human could drink our wine and stay on their feet for more than a few seconds.”
“Oh.”
On the screen, a fight broke out, and she took a moment to appreciate the actor when his shirt was torn off.
“His human clothing is inferior. He wouldn’t live one hour as a space ranger. His fighting is inferior as well,” he said and bared his teeth at the image projected by the TC.
She kept her face serious with effort. “And he’s not as muscled as the Zyrgins.”
Larz curled his lip back from his fangs. Not an attractive look for him. “He would never live through a real fight.”
“I sense you don’t like the space ranger.”
“He is inferior,” Larz said and stared at the image the way a raptor would look at its prey.
“You must have some wild parties on your planet.” She cleared her throat. Her voice wouldn’t work right.
“No.”
“No?’
“We fight together and work together. We do not party as humans think of it.”
“So what would a Zyrgin consider a party?” Visions of green-skinned Zyrgin men dressed in loin cloths filled her mind.
“A fighting match, betting on which warrior would remain standing after losing battle blood.”
She shivered. “Do you fight for fun?”
He didn’t move, but she felt his withdrawal. “I do not fight.”
It was obviously a sore point with him. “I see.”
They watched the space ranger in silence for a while.
“Who whipped you?”
He didn’t answer and she felt him withdraw further from her. As if her question had triggered something painful. And frightening. Red shot into his eyes like blood exploding from a gunshot. His body trembled and then became preternaturally still.
She sought for something to say to distract him. “Humans are different. We like to visit and talk and eat together.” Except, she never did that. The only time she ever did have anything approaching a normal life had been the two years she spent under cover in No Name Town. She rubbed her temples. Where did that strange thought come from? It disappeared and left her with the feeling of being on the brink of recalling something. As much as she wanted to remember, she now feared those memories.
He relaxed slightly. “I have observed Natalie and Julia doing this. They make it difficult for the warriors to act with honor.”
“How so?”
“They insist on talking and smiling with all the warriors they know. Inviting them to have tea with them. It is not seemly.”
She smiled and laid her head on her knees. “It’s what humans do.”
But it was something she’d never done. She didn’t have friends to pass the time joking and drinking with. She closed her eyes in despair.
Where did these crazy memories come from? Was she starting to remember?
The atmosphere changed. She lifted her head to see him stare at her and had the strangest feeling that his expressionless face would have shown horror if it could. He jumped up from the couch with a movement so fast he was only a blur.
“What’s wrong?”
He grunted and she knew he was talking into his hidden communicator. He looked at her. “I have called the doctor. You are not to move.”
She froze in place. He kept looking at her head. “Why? What’s wrong?” She tried to touch her head but he grabbed her hand and held it, almost crushing the bones. It was a testimony to how worried he was. Normally, he handled her with extreme care. “Don’t move until Viglar can look at you.”
She didn’t feel blood on her head, but maybe she’d have to touch it to notice. Maybe her brain was bleeding or something.
She’d had enough nightmares and strange thoughts to cause her brain to explode. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
“You said earlier that something invaded your head. We will have the doctor scan you to make sure. I have notice--”
He stopped speaking and she glared at him. “What? What did you notice?” She tried to free her hand, but he held both of hers securely in one of his. “Nothing you tell me can be as bad as what I’m imagining.”
“Viglar can fix it.”
He used the kind of voice people put on when you’re going to die horribly and they want to reassure you.
Sweat broke out in her armpits and rolled down her sides. “Fix what?”
Before she could make him tell her what could be fixed, she heard a chime and the doctor who’d examined her before entered. He kept his distance and, she thought, a careful eye on Larz. It was hard to tell with their expressionless faces. The doctor ran a slim silver slab up and down her figure and then grunted at Larz.
She frowned. She had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. As if she’d done this scene before. Larz gently forced her down onto the couch and then they both peered down at her head. She tried to feel what they’re looking at and he caught her hand in his.
“What’re you doing? What’s going on?”
“Your hair appears to be in the beginning stages of rotting,” Larz said.
“What?” After imagining her skull cracking or even worse, that was the last explanation she expected.
“No, it’s merely changing color, I assure you,” the doctor said in English.
“That’s impossible. I don’t color my hair.” She jerked out of Larz’s slackened hold and jumped off the couch.
Hair didn’t rot and, if she wasn’t so worried, she might’ve laug
hed.
The same chime she heard earlier reverberated around the room. Maeve ignored it in her rush to the bathroom. Behind her, she heard Natalie greet Larz and winced. This day just got better and better.
She peered into the mirror and thought she saw a faint darkness against the roots of her hair. She lifted the strands of hair at the side of her head and saw the same black roots.
“What on earth?”
“Here.” Larz held a small silver slab over her head and she stared at the top of her head where the dark color was more prominent.
“What the hell?” Why would her hair grow out at least six inches without changing color and then suddenly become black. She stared at her face in the mirror. “Does my skin look darker to you as well?” She could’ve sworn the freckles appeared less prominent.
“I am sure it is nothing serious,” Larz said, still in the kind of voice people used to tell you not to worry, you wouldn’t die, when everyone knew you were about to croak.
Maeve didn’t know why her hair was changing color. She was fairly sure it had nothing to do with rotting. Could the change in her hair and skin have anything to do with her dreams of being an agent and going under cover? She’d never heard of dyes taking that long to grow out.
He took her arm and walked back to the living room. “Natalie has come to visit you, in the human manner,” he said.
She knew him well enough now to pick up on the disapproval in his voice. It hurt that he didn’t want her to have contact with his mother.
Her heart sank. The last time she’d seen Natalie was the day Sarah had confronted her. Maeve could live the rest of her life very happily without seeing any of those women again.
They found Natalie talking to the doctor, holding a cake in one hand and gesturing and almost touching his shoulder every now and then with the other. The doctor inched away from Natalie, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“We are here,” Larz said.
Natalie visibly stiffened and then squared her shoulders and placed the cake she held on the coffee table. “I thought I’d come over and we can get to know each other.”
CHAPTER 7
Maeve motioned to the one couch in the room. “Would you like to sit down? I’m sorry we don’t have a few comfortable chairs and occasional tables.” She was babbling out of sheer nervousness.
“The couch is fine,” Natalie said, equally stilted, and sat down. “Do you have a cold, Marcie?”
“No why?”
“Your voice sounds different.”
Maeve shrugged. “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s deeper than I remember, pleasanter on the ear.” Natalie blushed and fiddled with the cake cover. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your normal voice.”
Larz grunted something at the doctor.
Maeve made herself sit next to the woman who gave birth to Larz. Though Natalie clearly tried to hide it, Maeve could see the dislike in her eyes. She didn’t even want to imagine what she’d said to her before she woke without her memory.
She tried to look harmless. “You came in a moment of small crisis. Your son seems to think I’m rotting.”
She wouldn’t need weapons to kill Natalie. Could she get to her before Larz could stop her? One twist and she’d break the woman’s neck. Deep inside her, the monster smiled. Maeve shivered, got up, and moved away from Natalie, afraid she’d act on these strange thoughts. If she could think like this, what would she be capable of doing if she got her memory back? What if the monster in her head took over and she woke up having killed someone? Or even worse, what if she killed Natalie and woke up without remembering what she’d done?
“Rotting?” Natalie asked uncertainly.
It took Maeve a moment to remember they were talking about her hair. That strange impulse to kill Natalie had thrown her off balance. She got some plates and tea from the replicator to cover her confusion, to hide that she didn’t dare sit next to Natalie.
Larz stepped closer to Maeve, a strangely protective gesture. “Her hair is turning black.”
In the dreams, the girl Maeve had black hair, but she couldn’t be that girl, even though she had taken to calling herself that in her mind. According to Larz, she’d had natural red hair for the last six months they’d held her captive. If she’d colored her hair, it would’ve grown out by now, at least several inches. Did these strange changes in her body have anything to do with the murderous impulse she experienced a moment ago? What other traps waited in her mind?
A strange noise came from the door and Larz stiffened. For the first time Maeve noticed the little girl, almost a baby, sitting on the floor. She clutched a small stuffed animal in one hand and the other she slammed against the closing door.
“Come here, Alissa,” Natalie said and grinned at the child.
Crawling with surprising speed, the little girl made a beeline for Larz instead. She sat down on his foot and then drew herself upright by holding on to his legs. Maeve didn’t know anything about children, but she thought the little girl should’ve been able to walk by now.
Larz stared down at her with a fixed, almost predatory look, then pointedly ignoring the toddler clutching his calf, turned to the doctor and they grunted at each other.
“I need to take some of your blood,” the doctor said. He held up a silver vial, but didn’t come any closer.
Larz snarled at Viglar and took the vial from him. “I will draw her blood.”
Viglar managed to look put upon without moving a muscle. She’d noticed that Zacar alien bristling when Natalie was near the doctor. She’d never seen Julia with her warrior, but had no doubt he’d act the same. If Larz knew of the monster in her mind, would he still want her?
Larz turned toward her. “Viglar will monitor the situation, but he assures me that it is merely your hair changing color.” He stared at the piece of hair over her breast. “You should be pleased, if it continues you will not be cursed with ugly red hair anymore.”
“Larz!” Natalie protested.
Ignoring Natalie’s outburst, Larz picked up the baby by the back of her little dress and carried her to her mother. The little girl kicked and crowed as if it was a favorite game.
Natalie shook her head and cuddled Alissa on her lap. “You’re teaching her to be as fearless as you are. She can be hurt if she tries even a tenth of the things you and Zorlof are teaching her.”
Maeve frowned. He thought her hair was ugly? “Did he say why my hair is changing color,” she asked Larz.
“He is running tests.”
If it was possible to test such a thing, she’d have asked Viglar to test if there was a monster hiding within her. She suppressed a shudder and turned to Natalie. “More tea?”
“Thank you,” Natalie said.
Maeve refreshed their cups and she and Natalie pretended to drink tea and eat cake while they both knew none of them could stand her. Maeve didn’t care. She should be used to seeing that look from people. Ever since the day her father gave her to Parnell to train--
Maeve came to on the couch with the doctor and Natalie standing over her. She blinked and realized Larz had her in a tight hold. It felt as if those big snakes from old times had her in a grip. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” Natalie said.
Maeve frowned when Larz touched her head. “Stop that, my hair is not rotting.” Though she wasn’t that sure about her brains. Or her soul.
Natalie soothed the baby and shook her head at Larz. “Hair doesn’t rot, Larz. It’s merely her natural color growing out.”
That would’ve made sense if it had happened five months ago. But after more than six months?
Natalie gave a tremulous smile and, still holding the little girl, walked to the door. “I will leave you two alone. We will visit again when you feel better, Marcie.” She left them staring at each other.
Viglar scanned her again with that slim sliver gadget that seemed permanently fused to his hand and, after grunting at Larz, he left as well.
&nb
sp; “I hate it when they call me that.”
“I will tell them to call you horrible human.”
She smiled and knew it was a wobbly effort. She looked around at the walls that seemed to be leaning in on her. “Please can we go outside,” she whispered.
He hesitated then nodded and helped her up. She’d never get used to how strong he was. She had no doubt if he wanted to, he could lift her with one finger. “I have time.”
“Is it possible to see the birds?”
“Sometimes. We have made them wary of humans for their own protection.”
She stopped and stared up at him. At his strong jaw and pronounced cheekbones. So different from her, alien and cold. “What do you mean, you made them wary of humans?” It was weird, thinking birds were becoming plentiful after centuries of humans failing to reintroduce them. As if the Zyrgins weren’t arrogant enough before. Just once, she’d like to rub his nose in something humans were better at.
“When we reintroduced them, we strengthened the gene that made them wary of predators. They were driven to extinction by humans and will stay away from areas populated heavily by humans.”
“You can do that?”
“Zyrgin technology is vastly superior to humans.”
“Wow, such a pity you’re such a humble lot,” she muttered.
“We do not need to be humble.” He cocked his head. “If we were as puny and backward as humans, we might have been. But we are superior Zyrgins. With stronger bodies and better brains.” He seemed to think about it. “And we conqueror planets.” He said it without inflection. Obviously believing every word.
She yawned in his face. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you conquer all you survey, just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
His gaze sharpened. “You will learn to respect the might of the Zyrgin Empire.” Still, that sharp searching gaze.
“It’s our planet, and you vastly underestimate us if you think we’ll not fight you to the bitter end.”
Human history was riddled with humans winning against all odds. Their spirit would never be crushed, no matter the might and technology of their oppressors.
He motioned for her to precede him out the door. “Your race has forfeited the right to rule Earth. You have killed and destroyed your own world.”