by Lisa Lace
As Eden gazed at the never-ending path that stretched in front of her, a wave of rationality came crashing down. It occurred to her that she hadn't given Thiago or Ardela a chance to explain themselves.
Eden thought about the lightheadedness that came as an aftereffect from the dolly grass blunts the trio had consumed. For Eden, she struggled just to get the zipper of her jumpsuit working correctly. Additionally, Thiago and Ardela had both drained three bottles of Pasquin ale in less than two hours.
Being under the influence was no excuse for their actions. But the more Eden thought about it, the gravity of their drunken indiscretion grew less severe. She wasn't thrilled with what happened or ready to forgive, but the notion of leaving everything behind seemed silly. Her brain was racing in circles, making up answers to her questions.
More to the point, where could she run? Earth was a long walk away.
Eden felt like a runaway child with an empty piggy bank and nowhere to go. She would have to make the long trek back home. She spun around indignantly, squinting in the distance. The faint tracks of her walk marked a path back to the campsite. With a sigh, she grudgingly began to retrace her steps.
"Eden!"
Eden looked up. Her ears burned red when she heard Ardela's voice. The Arkadian woman approached from the distance, her lustrous hair swishing in the wind like a shampoo commercial. The sight of Ardela brought Eden's temper rushing back. She cast Ardela a withering look before stomping away from her.
"Is this some more of your charity? Thanks, but no thanks. You didn't need to get me. I'm a big girl. I'll find my way back to the ship by myself."
"Eden, wait. Can you just hear me out?"
"About what? I'm not interested in learning the rules of alien girl code."
She felt a sharp pain in her leg. Eden's mouth went silent as she looked down to see a sharp needle of a syringe dart sticking out of her thigh. She gasped, finding it hard to breathe as she grabbed frantically at her throat. As the last drop of lime-green liquid inside the syringe disappeared, Eden's legs started to buckle under her. She crashed into the ground. Her icy limbs solidified as paralysis gradually took over her body.
Ardela grabbed Eden's cold ankle and started dragging the immobilized human away to her spacecraft.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A balding man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a flannel shirt too large for his slim frame sat cross-legged upon the bank of a glittering pond. He held an old fishing pole between his legs and began to patch up the bait cast with silver masking tape. Satisfied, he looked over his shoulder, patting a vacant patch of grass next to him. A warm smile illuminated his sunken face.
"Come sit next to me, Eden."
Eden toddled over to the man using her stumpy legs. The man scooped her up before her overexcited little legs sent her toppling over the brink of the bank. He set her down next to him, gently placing the hook of the fishing rod in her small palms. The child dug into the tub of live bait next to her. She giggled at the tiny creatures squirming against her fingers. The man took the wiggling bait from her and fixed it onto the hook.
"Are you ready, Eden?" the man asked. He placed his arms over hers, guiding her movements. "Remember what I told you. You have to flick your wrist back and then push forward."
"Okay."
"When you feel a nibble, what do you do?"
"I watch the line in the water. Then I pull."
"That's right. Go ahead. You can do it, Eden."
The tip of Eden's tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. The man removed his arms from her and allowed the child to cast the rod on her own. The tip of her rod dipped into the water with a soft splash. The bright red fishing bobber bounced on the rippling surface of the pond. Within mere seconds, her arms tugged forward at an unmistakable nibble on the other end of the line. The little girl's eyes popped wide open in gleeful excitement.
As the indicator line around the bobber sunk under the water, Eden pulled with all the giddy gusto of a young child. Water splashed around her as a thrashing fish jumped out of the surface and soared through the air, landing next to her. She glanced down at the fat rainbow trout flopping on the ground. It was nearly two feet from nose to tail. Beaming with pride, she turned around to brag about her capture.
"Dad, did you see what I just did? Dad?"
There was no answer.
Eden twirled around in panic. The man was gone. Her bottom lip began to tremble. She got up and began to look for her father. No matter how hard she tried to retrace her steps, her ruffled socks and Mary Janes only seemed to move around in circles.
Giving up, the child fell onto the cushion of the grass below her. As her eyes settled on the trout next to her, she tilted her head slightly to the side.
The shadows of an Arkadian symbol could be seen on the scales of the dead fish.
The pungent stench of sulfur blew into Eden's nostrils. She slowly woke up. It was a burden to lift her head from her shoulders. But as she sluggishly came to, numbing waves of hysteria washed over her system.
She found herself trapped in a vertical cage suspended high above the ground. A sturdy pair of handcuffs restrained her hands over her head. They were designed to impede all wrist movement.
The rusty chains dangling from the ceiling gave her a small amount of movement in her legs. A separate pair of restraints held her ankles in place. Everything was designed to keep her thrashing to a minimum. The muscles in her limbs nagged at her for depriving them of rest as she fought to keep herself standing up.
Eden inspected the walls of the cage with a sinking heart. Ominous bolts of red electricity sparked between the spaces of the black bars. She had as much chance of escaping containment as a roasted duck hanging in the display window of a Chinese restaurant.
She puckered her lips as she breathed loudly through her mouth. She tried to keep her mind calm as she studied her surroundings. The walls around her cage contained rows of capsules reaching higher than she could see. She stretched her neck forward, straining to get a better look at the mysterious vessels. They had a thick, gelatinous liquid the murky color of mucus and something Eden couldn't comprehend.
When she realized what was in the capsules, she gasped in shock. Along with a handful of humanoid captives, different races of aliens occupied the containers. The capsules permanently preserved their final haunting expressions before death. Eden tore her eyes away from the gruesome graveyard. She fought back the sour taste of bile rising in her throat.
The sprouts of moss growing from damp spots on the crumbling cavern walls suggested she was underground. As she saw dozens of uniformed Noxx officials pouring in through a doorway on her right, she realized where she was.
Bounty hunters had been on a quest to uncover the lair of the Noxx army for years. She was in the middle of it. Thiago would love this place if he could ever find it.
"Hey, assholes! Let me out of here!" Eden said in disgust.
Eden pulled back as her gob of spit bounced off the sparking cage bars and deflected back on her face. The heads of the aliens shifted up to listen to the shrieks of the human prisoner. One was startled more than the others. The bungling official struck the back of his head on a hanging wall fixture. He reeled over dizzily before another alien swooped in and caught him.
"You! You there with the lazy eye! Stop acting like you can't hear me. I know you can. Go ahead, guys, walk away from me all you want. I've got a whole playlist of horrible pop songs in my arsenal, and I'm not afraid to use them! I'll give you a fair warning. I can't carry a tune to save my life."
The Noxx officials continued as if she hadn't said anything. A few shielded their ears to block out Eden's obnoxiously shrill voice. She cleared her throat theatrically. When she started belting the tune to one of her favorite childhood TV shows, a few aliens cried out boisterously in protest.
Eden's mouth shriveled shut as the door to the central entryway opened. A Noxx dressed in a unique set of black army fatigues strode into
the room. He was much taller than the guards. In addition to the Noxx's imposing height, there were distinctive chocolate-brown markings shaped in a lopsided V between his eyes. Before, the officials were at ease. After their superior entered, they quietly moved to form neat lines.
Ardela quickly joined him. "I'm interested to know your thoughts on the cargo, Malatov."
The pair ascended a long flight of steps leading to the pedestal on which Eden's cage rested. Eden cowered before them, burying her face in her arms as the pair leaned in and examined her. Malatov snarled, his guttural roar frightening everyone as it echoed through the space of the underground cavern.
"Look at me."
Involuntarily, Eden's head moved up from her arm. Disobeying the commanding voice was difficult. As Malatov sized her up, she couldn't stop her teeth from chattering. At this proximity, the Noxx leader was worse than she had imagined.
Malatov probed her with his fiery amber eyes. The one on his left was sewn partially shut and only exposed a sliver of a congealed, severely infected eye socket. The grayed feathers that adorned his head drooped from age. Exquisite, time-worn tattoos covered the gleaming white scales of the bowling ball-sized muscles bulging from his arms.
Ardela beamed alongside him. She sneaked a cheeky wink in Eden's direction. The Arkadian woman's hair was pulled away from her face in a sleek ponytail, displaying her beautiful chin and close-lipped smile in its full glory.
"Are you sure you've brought me the correct tramp? This one's human, for goodness sake."
"Trust me, this is the one. It looks like Thiago's got himself a new fetish for Earth skanks. The half-breed's finally showing his true colors, I suppose."
Malatov laughed huskily in agreement. He stroked his chin. A flake of skin peeled off his pink snout as he sniffed Eden.
"She's little on the lean side. I don't like her hair, but she smells as sweet as my last kill."
"I can guarantee that Thiago will be looking for her very soon. He'll come directly to you. When he arrives, you and your men are free to finish him off."
Eden gasped. "Ardela, why are you doing this?" she asked. Her voice sounded more brittle than she had intended. "How could you? With him? Look at him!"
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. It's just business," Ardela replied promptly. The nasty tone of her voice sent an unpleasant tingle down Eden's spine. "You're a smart girl. Keep your head up. For what it's worth, I did like you. If you need to know why, it should be obvious. Malatov is offering much more than any of the pitiful rewards the authorities are willing to fork over."
"You greedy, two-faced bitch."
Ardela stuck a hand on her hip and motioned to a new, ring-pop sized jewel on the little finger of her free hand. "That may be, but I've just bought myself a nice little treat worth more than your life ever will be. It only cost a quarter of what I received for escorting you here. The ring's not too flashy, is it? What do you think?"
"I think you should take that ring and jam it up your mom's hole in case she spawns any more of Satan's babies."
"Feisty girl!" Ardela rolled her eyes. "When you have no weapons left, all you can do is use your mouth."
Malatov stuck a hand through the bars of the cage to caress the supple skin of Eden's burning cheeks.
"I can see why the bastard's got a soft spot for her. She's attractive, in a primitive sort of way."
Eden whipped her hair around her face as she pulled away from Malatov. Her shackles clanged together. Two small spiders crawled out from Malatov's sleeves, crossed the bridge of his crooked yellowing fingers, and leaped onto Eden's twisting neck.
As his fingers approached her contorting lips, Eden reacted instinctively. She clamped her jaw over two of his fingers, chomping down as hard as she could.
"Son of a bitch! Get off of me, you disgusting human!"
There was a loud crack as Malatov's knuckles connected with Eden's cheek. Her head slumped to the side of her neck. She couldn't believe the viscous display of force. Malatov withdrew his arms from the cage, angrily setting the voltage of the cage bars to its highest setting.
As a bickering Ardela and Malatov wandered down the flight of steps and away from her, Eden couldn't control her emotions any longer. Sobbing, Eden quietly cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A woman's gentle modulated voice wafted out the speakers of the shuttle cars.
This is a safety announcement from the staff at the HT-007 Inter-territory Shuttle System. Constant video recording is in effect for the security of both our staff and our passengers. We would like to remind patrons not to leave luggage or any belongings unattended. Abandoned belongings will be confiscated by security personnel and destroyed immediately without further notice.
The air was thick with the musky sweat, body odor, and tentacle secretions of traveling passengers. In the after-work rush hour, the light chatter and pleasantries were muffled by the rhythmic whoosh of the ISS zipping through the tunnels. Most passengers were quiet. They were exhausted from a day's work. Some stared blankly into space with dead eyes; they kept their hands idly folded in their laps. Others snored loudly in their seats or slept standing up, resting their heads on their arms as they steadied themselves with hanging straps.
Thiago loitered close to a door in a back of a congested car, leaning against a ridged wall. He was unprepared when the shuttle made an abrupt turn to the left. He collided with an Azkal next to him, who was already in a foul mood because his face had smashed against the ceiling. Thiago mumbled a quick apology and evaded the alien's six glowering eyes by tugging a hood over his head.
A lifetime of social skills left unpolished had resulted in the enhancement of Thiago's naturally agoraphobic tendencies. He couldn't recall the last time he had been aboard public transportation. With the notorious stigma and unabashed racism that followed half-humans, he had grown accustomed to keeping a low profile. It was impossible to feel safe in a crowd without his cloak, or, at the very least, a prosthetic disguise to conceal his nature.
Today, he opted to leave Hercules and his spaceship parked back at the campsite in case Eden decided to return. If he'd learned anything from their past disagreements, it was that it was best to keep himself at a distance until Eden's anger subsided on its own.
After a long period of contemplation, Thiago had enough sense to realize that even though he might not have been at fault, it appeared otherwise to Eden. Even though Eden exhibited a larger scope of moodiness than most of Thiago's other flings and one-night-stands, at the end of the day, she was the only female he had ever been with who eventually saw reason.
Next stop – the Land of the Fallen Cemetery. If your final destination is the cemetery, please disembark and proceed to Exit A or Exit B. If you wish to transfer to the Runic Territory line, change shuttles here.
Thiago squeezed through the crowds and out the open doorway of the shuttle. He exited the station and stopped at a corner store next to the cemetery. A friendly teenage girl manned the cramped booth in a threadbare coat patterned with illustrated shooting stars. She wore a mask that covered her nose and mouth.
Except for the snow-white scales that covered her body, the girl could almost pass for human. She had black waves of hair that stopped at her shoulders, and wide-set, brown eyes. Born half-Noxx, the orphan had been immediately disowned by society and forced into poverty.
She needed the money she made from the tiny booth to stay afloat. The young girl tended to her shop no matter what the weather conditions were, always displaying a cheerful disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude that never went stale. Thiago purchased a pair of handmade pillar candles with sparkling moon rocks and blue seashells embedded into the orange wax. He left the girl speechless when he paid for the candles. Thiago was feeling generous and left an enormous tip.
Thiago proceeded through the unmanned gates of the cemetery. The massive graveyard was respectfully silent. Only a handful of visitors wandered through an area that housed over thirty tho
usand headstones. He headed directly toward a cluster of gravestones situated on the eastern side of the territory.
His solitary footsteps sounded disconcertingly loud against the stone footpath as he passed a sign over an archway. Letters were both missing or hanging on their hinges, but a newcomer could decipher the original words on the sign: Pacem Village Massacre Resting Ground.
Except for a few select graves, most of the burial ground lay in miserable conditions. Shriveled plants, incense stubs, and ashes covered abandoned tombstones. Thiago moved off the footpath and made his way through a grid pattern arrangement of graves. As he drew closer to a particular pair of joined headstones near the center of the fourth row, he slowed to a stop.
The twin tombstones of his parents looked freshly polished. The off-white marble shined like it had been made yesterday. Somebody had carefully swept old leaves to the side. A gem vase filled with a bouquet of cosmic orchids sat on the patch of grass in front of the headstones. The vibrant petals of the quirky purple and blue orchids sniffled with their persistent illness, adding a dynamic touch to the somber graves.
Thiago knelt on the ground and gazed at the miniature screens embedded on the tombstones above the engraved names and lifespan dates. Six-second scenes displayed in a permanent loop on the screens. The one on the left featured the face of a stern Arkadian man in his mid-fifties. An ill-tailored coat hung loosely over his translucent skin. It looked baked from constant exposure to the sun. The man's trimmed lampshade mustache wiggled like a baby caterpillar above his pursed lips. There were wrinkles around his eyes. It looked as if he were trying not to smile while somebody made silly faces in the background.
The screen on the right displayed an attractive human woman in her late forties. The Swedish woman's heavily teased hair ran a little over her defined collarbone. She had the same white-blond locks as her son. Her thick, side-swept bangs bobbed along with her as she laughed soundlessly, tilting her bouncing head back with careless gaiety.