Forbidden Planet

by Rinelle Grey

  Pain shot through her leg, and biting her lip to muffle her exclamation, she half sat, half fell back onto the bed.

  Tyris stirred. “Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

  Marlee winced. “Yeah, I was just going to get something for my ankle,” she said quietly.

  “Do you need a hand?” The bed shifted as Tyris raised himself on one elbow. He sounded more awake now.

  Marlee wrapped a tendril of hair around her finger, rubbing it with her thumb. The sound of his voice reminded her of his body pressed up against hers in the bed only moments ago. “You don’t need to get up. I’m just going to make myself some tea to help the pain. I’ll be fine.” What a stupid thing to say. She could barely stand, let alone walk.

  Tyris reached out a hand and touched her arm gently. “Karla said you should be resting that ankle. If you needed something, you should have woken me.”

  “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Silly girl,” Tyris scolded playfully. She could almost see the corners of his mouth turned up and the twinkle in his eyes. “You looked after me when I was injured, took me into your home and came out to the Hylista with me on my insane errand. You’ve earned the right to wake me up in the middle of the night if you need help.” He paused then added in a soft voice, “And it’s no bother.”

  Warmth tingled through her, leaving her uncertain. Why was Tyris arousing these feelings in her? She was in love with Nelor, wasn’t she? Her feelings for him didn’t suddenly switch off just because they couldn’t be together.

  And yet, this wasn’t like any feelings she’d ever experienced with Nelor.

  She’d had plenty of boyfriends, but none of them had stirred these sorts of reactions. Why was she so conscious of how close he was? Why did his voice in the darkness have such an effect?

  She’d never known anyone like him. Remmy had been so shy and unsure, they’d both been kids really. Harlow had been overconfident, but fun. And Nelor was sweet and loving. He was her best friend.

  Tyris was confident, but not overconfident. And judging by his insistence on carrying her back to the hut last night, he could be sweet too. And he certainly wasn’t bad to look at.

  “Marlee?” Tyris asked, pulling her away from her thoughts. “How can we get some light in here?”

  She focused on the practical issue, banishing the strange thoughts. “I’ll have to get out to the fireplace.”

  Tyris rose and walked around to her, keeping his hands on the bed to find his way. He touched her shoulder in the dark then slid down her arm to her hands. “Can you walk?”

  Marlee deliberately pushed away the feelings his hands sliding over her elicited. She didn’t want to think about that. Not now. “A little,” she said, “but it hurts to put weight on my foot.”

  Tyris pulled her arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me.” He slipped his own arm around her waist, pulling her close.

  She wanted to pull away, to insist she could walk on her own. But resting her foot on the ground hurt, even without putting any weight on it. She needed Tyris’s help. Marlee hobbled out into the next room as quickly as she could, and was relieved to let go of Tyris to kneel down in front of the fireplace. She dug around with the poker until she found some glowing hot coals, added some dried grass and twigs from the basket on the floor, and blew gently until they caught. Once they burnt brightly, she added some larger sticks then a piece of wood.

  The fire cast a soft glow to the room. Now she had to get up. And there was nothing nearby to pull herself up on. She bit her lip, held out her hands, and let Tyris help her to her feet. His strong hands pulled her up easily. She reached for the lamp sitting on the mantelpiece and lit it with a small twig.

  Now she could see more clearly, although she almost wished she couldn’t when she looked up at Tyris, who still had his hands on her waist to steady her. The firelight flickered in his eyes, and his hair was tousled from sleep. Definitely not bad to look at. Marlee blushed and glanced away. He didn’t seem in a hurry to release her.

  She could see it would be easy to like him, easy to fall for him. And easy to be devastated when it ended. She didn’t even want to let herself hope that with him, she might just have a chance at a baby. It hurt too much. After four years of crushing disappointments, she just couldn’t do that again. She had to accept that she couldn’t have children and not get involved with anyone. It was better that way.

  She pulled back and stumbled the few steps to her chair, ignoring the pain in her ankle as she gratefully sank into the comfortable, familiar quilt. Tyris stared at her in confusion, and she blushed and looked away, asking, “Is there water in the pot?”

  Tyris stared at her a moment longer before turning back to the fire. He checked in the tin hanging by a piece of wire over the fire and nodded. “It’s half full. Is that enough?”

  Marlee nodded. “As soon as it boils, I can make some tea.”

  “What do I need to do?” Tyris asked.

  Step by step, Marlee directed him to the get the tea cups, fill each with tea, and add some of the feverfew herb to hers. It was frustrating not being able to get up and just do it herself, but Tyris patiently followed each instruction.

  Finally, it was done, and she sipped the tea gratefully. Tyris sat next to her, staring into the fire.

  This wasn’t going to be easy. She wanted to be friends with Tyris and to help him settle in here on Zerris. But these strange feelings she was having complicated matters. She needed to hang onto thoughts about Nelor, to keep reminding herself that he was the one she cared about. Maybe that would prevent these feelings from getting out of hand.

  Tyris looked over at her. “I’m sorry, Marlee, this must be awkward for you, having me here,” he said. “I wish there was somewhere else I could go. I thought if I could fix the Hylista, even a little, then I could fly it to the village and not have to impose on anyone. I figured I’d just live on the ship.”

  Marlee felt bad for pushing him away. It wasn’t his fault that she was attracted to him when she didn’t want to be. Tyris must be just as disappointed by the realisation that he was stuck here as she was. “You’re not imposing at all, Tyris. I like having you here. Who would have helped me tonight if you weren’t here?”

  “You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t felt that you needed to come after me,” Tyris countered. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn about going to the ship or insistent on staying behind when I should have come back, you wouldn’t have hurt your ankle.”

  Marlee shook her head. “I should have realised you’d come home. If I’d waited... The elders are always saying I’m too impulsive.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came.” Tyris reached out a hand and squeezed hers for a brief moment. “It meant a lot to know someone cared enough to come looking for me.”

  Marlee let herself squeeze his hand in return then sighed. “Can you fix it?”

  Tyris scowled, and she wished she hadn’t reminded him. But she had to know the answer, had to know if there was any hope at all. “I can’t,” he said roughly. “It took too much damage in the crash, several key systems are down, and I don’t have the means to even begin to repair them. I’m stuck here, just the same as the rest of you.”

  Marlee’s heart sank. As soon as she heard the words from his own lips, she realised she’d been holding out hope that his earlier assessment was wrong. Now she had to face the reality that any hope of escape was gone.

  She waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. Though she felt sad, she didn’t feel as desperate as she had yesterday morning. Yesterday, she’d cried at the thought that Tyris might not make it back to take her away from here. Why didn’t she feel worse now?

  She didn’t want to face the possibility that it was a fear of losing Tyris that had made her cry not the loss of a way off this planet. She was having enough confusing feelings this morning without examining that.

  “I’m sorry, Marlee,” Tyris said softly. He sounded so hopeless, so de
jected. Marlee couldn’t help but feel for him.

  “You’re sorry? What do you have to be sorry about?”

  Tyris shrugged. “That I got your hopes up over nothing.” He was quiet for a moment then asked, “What will happen for you and Nelor now?”

  Marlee sighed. “Nothing. Nothing can happen now.”

  “So, does that mean...” Tyris broke off. He glanced over at her, then quickly back to the fire. “What does that mean, for you?” he asked.

  “They expect me to find someone else,” she said flatly. “Nelor too.”

  Tyris frowned. “How quickly?”

  Marlee shrugged. “As soon as possible. The pressure had started before you arrived. In all the excitement, it hasn’t been mentioned, but I’m sure my mother and the council haven’t forgotten.”

  “They’ll probably decide I’m in the way here then, won’t they?” Tyris asked.

  Marlee was surprised he was missing the obvious. “Uh, not exactly,” she said quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Tyris stared at her, his forehead wrinkled. “How can they expect you to find someone new while I’m here in your home? Surely that would give the wrong impression?”

  “Most of the men here are affected by the pollution,” she started, hoping he’d get it. She didn’t want to have to spell it out. “Those who have been able to have a child are already with someone...”

  The expression on Tyris’s face suddenly changed. “Oh,” he said. “That’s why I’m here in your home, isn’t it?”

  “No, no!” Marlee said quickly. “I offered, I told you that. Although I’m sure they expect me to take advantage of the situation. They probably thought that was why I offered. ”

  Tyris didn’t reply. Marlee studied his face in the firelight, not sure what he was thinking. His face was carefully blank. Was he upset? Angry? Considering it?

  “What about you, Marlee? You said you offered to have me here. Did you think... well... what were you hoping for? Were you hoping we would have a baby together?”

  Marlee thought of the feelings she’d had, lying beside him that morning. What would being with Tyris be like? Something swirled in the bottom of her stomach, sending tendrils radiating through her body. It wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. Physical desire, that’s all. But it could be interesting to explore. The eighteen months allotted for a couple was a long time. They could be happy. Maybe they would even get lucky and have a baby.

  She’d thought that last time. That memory was enough to make her shake her head definitively. “I don’t want to go through that again. It hurts too much.”

  Tyris nodded slowly, then stared into the fire again for a moment. His next question didn’t give any clue as to his thoughts. “What will the council think about that? Are they going to keep pushing you?” he asked.

  Marlee sighed. “Yes, they’ll keep pushing, probably harder and harder,” Marlee admitted. She hesitated. “You’ll get it too,” she added.

  “Me?” Tyris asked in surprise.

  Marlee hid a grin. “You’ll be a hot commodity around here,” she teased. “There are plenty of women who would be more than happy to have a chance at an almost guaranteed fertile male.”

  This time there was no mistaking it. Tyris looked horrified. “Not a chance,” he said quickly. “I’m not having a baby with anyone. Ever.”

  She could agree with his sentiment. Even applaud it. But still, it made her catch her breath for a second. “It could get mighty uncomfortable,” she warned.

  Tyris shrugged. “Then we can be uncomfortable together I guess,” he suggested.

  “We could,” Marlee agreed. It’d be better than standing up to the council alone. “But there’s another possibility,” she suggested.

  “There is?”

  “We can pretend we’re together,” Marlee said. “It’s not a permanent solution, but it will buy us some time. Time for you to settle in here, and time for me to decide what I want to do. After that, who knows, you might meet someone you’d like to be with.” She ignored the stab of jealousy she felt at her own comment.

  “I doubt that,” Tyris said dryly. Then he looked over at her. “Are you sure there isn’t someone else you would be willing to try with again?”

  “Definitely not,” Marlee said firmly. “I’ve lived here for twenty years, remember? I know everyone, and I’m not allowed to be with the only person I wanted.”

  Tyris nodded. “Okay then. I’m game if you are. What do we do? Make an announcement or something?”

  Marlee smiled, surprised at how relieved she felt at his words. “No, no announcement needed. Usually it’s considered official when two people move in together, but if the actual beginning date is ambiguous, that gives us more leeway in the end.”

  It was the best outcome she could hope for. While they thought she and Tyris were together, the council would leave her alone. And perhaps at the end of this, they’d assume she was barren, and she’d be able to be alone without all the pressure.

  *****

  It was a day of firsts for Tyris. Once Marlee finished her tea and he helped her tightly bind her ankle, she was able to walk without admitting to too much pain. She made them both a bowl of porridge with honey and strange tasting milk. By then, the light coming through the open window was sufficient that Marlee blew out the lamp. She limped around the kitchen putting flour and water in a big wooden bowl.

  “What are you doing?” Tyris asked, in what he suspected was going to become his catch-phrase of the day.

  “Making bread,” Marlee said. She measured out the flour in a carved wooden scale, the type Tyris had only seen in lawyer’s logos. The flour formed a pile on one side, and Marlee put little metal weights on the other. She did the same for the water.

  “You can make bread?” Tyris asked in surprise, as she put the ingredients into a wooden bowl and began to mix them. Obviously he knew people made bread, but in his mind it was done by bakers in a huge oven with lots of fancy equipment. Not like this in a tiny primitive kitchen with only flour, water, and a strange gooey bubbly mixture.

  Marlee just smiled. She pulled the lump of white dough out of the bowl onto a board and began kneading it. Tyris watched her for a few moments then to his own surprise asked, “Can I have a go?”

  “Sure,” Marlee said readily, and moved aside. “Fold it in half and push down,” she instructed him.

  It looked so easy when she did it, but he felt awkward and ungainly, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I can’t do it,” he said, giving up after only a few attempts.

  “Sure you can,” Marlee encouraged. She stood next to him and guided his hands. “Fold it over like this and push down with the heel of your hands, like this. Then do it again.”

  Her hands were sure and steady. He tried not to be aware of how her floury fingers sliding against his were warm and soft. But they sent heat running along his veins anyway. She pulled the dough back, and he followed suit, folding the dough in half under the gentle pressure of her hands then letting the heel of her hand push his down into the dough. Over and over she repeated the pattern, until it was drumming itself into his heart, the rhythm flowing through him.

  When Marlee realised he’d caught on, she stepped back. Tyris wished she hadn’t. Kneading the dough created a connection between them, like they had shared something above the mundane.

  She wiped her hands absently on the apron around her waist, watching him with a smile on her face. Then she turned away with a swish of her heavy skirt to do something else in the kitchen.

  Tyris watched her go, his hands still warm where she’d touched him. He needed to keep these feelings for her in check. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested, even though her actions seemed to indicate otherwise sometimes. He needed to respect that and keep his distance. It wouldn’t help her any if he latched onto her like an injured pilot desperately clutching at his oxygen mask.

  It had been a strange morning and an even stranger conversation. When he’d asked her if sh
e’d hoped to have a baby with him, he’d been surprised to realise he’d almost hoped she would say yes.

  As much as he didn’t want to believe it, with the Hylista unrepairable, he was stuck here. And without his ship, any skills he had were worthless. Being able to fly a spaceship wouldn’t put food on the table or keep him warm over winter. He knew nothing about those things. He had nothing to contribute. Marlee had taken him in out of pity, but in reality, he was simply another burden to her. If she wanted a child, it would have given him a way to offer something back to her, a way of helping her.

  But she had given him another option. A better option, considering his inability to have children. By pretending that they were together, he could protect her from the pressure to have a child. Protect her in a way he couldn’t if the relationship was real. It was a small contribution, but perhaps a valuable one. And in the meantime, he planned to learn all the new skills he needed as quickly as he could.

  Marlee came over and took the dough from him. She put it on a wooden board, covered it with a cloth, and placed it on the small table beside the fireplace. The plates and cups they had used for breakfast were clean and stacked to drip dry, and the dirt floor was swept.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “We’re off to the barn.” Marlee picked up a bucket near the bench and held out a shawl. Tyris hesitated, but this time, knowing how cold it was outside, he accepted her offer.

  “I’ll have to get started on making you a coat,” she said. Another wave of gratitude washed over him. Along with another wave of helplessness. He was so used to money taking care of any problem he couldn’t solve himself. He had no idea where to even start with making clothes. Where did they get fabric from? How did they sew them?

  Tyris followed her through the gently falling snow, glad of the extra warmth from the shawl. Grey clouds obscured the sun, and the snow he trudged through would probably be much deeper by nightfall. Even the few inches that had already fallen made walking difficult, and Marlee’s limp was becoming more pronounced. Tyris caught up with her in a few strides and took the bucket from her. He held out his arm for her to lean on.