She looked away, tears in her eyes. “And when we are forced to admit that no, we would not have been willing to do the same for you. We feel... we feel ashamed.”
Gerald looked at her sympathetically. “Being willing to give up your life is not the ultimate test of friendship, Trahzi.”
“We feel it is. Since coming to the academy, since meeting you, The Trahzi in this body has learned many things, had different experiences that gives the Trahzi in this body a unique and sometimes dissentive perspective. The Trahzi in this body is now different from the other Trahzi. For the first time since we came into being, there is more than one voice. Now, there are two, and it seems that the Trahzi in this body doesn’t always agree with the voice of the rest.”
“Just say ‘I’, it’s a lot less clunky.”
“Very well. If you insist. But because I have grown, I have also become cowardly. I am ashamed to admit this, but back when I yelled at you about Puppy Trahzi, I wasn’t being completely honest. I was afraid for her life, yes, but I was also afraid of my own. I realized in that moment that if I were to die, everything I am, my memories, my experiences, would also cease to exist. It is something I have never had to deal with before. It... paralyzed me. And yet, I look at you, and I see a person who is in the same situation, but you manage to overcome that fear.”
Gerald’s face pinched. “I had no idea this would change you so much. If I had known...”
The full weight of what she was saying fell down on him. “I am so sorry, Trahzi.”
Trahzi seemed confused. “Why are you sorry? I asked you to teach me.”
“Yes, but I feel like I have taken something away from you. I feel like I have destroyed the unity your people once had.”
Trahzi nodded. “This is a new phenomenon, one that we did not fully expect. But also, one for which we had prepared.”
“What do you mean?”
Trahzi became sad and sat down. Gerald sat down beside her, trying to ignore the burning in his legs. He could tell that whatever she was trying to say was incredibly difficult for her. Several times she opened her black lips, but then closed them again.
Gerald reached out and took her hand, comforting her. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to say it. You don’t have to.”
“But I want to...” she gasped, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Then just say it.”
“Okay, she nodded, smiling at him and taking confidence from his eyes. It still surprised Gerald how beautiful her smile could be. He found his heart racing inside his chest just looking at her.
“Like I told you before,” she sniffed. “Trahzi are as physically varied as any race. You commented once that being chosen to be an ambassador was a great honor, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all...”
She trailed off, trying desperately to hold back the tears.
“...I was chosen to be an ambassador to the others because I was the weakest of my kind. So it was felt, were I to be lost, it would incur the least amount of damage to the whole.”
Gerald’s eyes went wide with understanding. “So, all that talk about culling the herd...”
She nodded sadly. “Yes, I was culled. That is why I hate weak things. Because they remind me that I am the weakest Trahzi. They remind me of my own weakness.”
Gerald tried not to invalidate her feelings. “Believe me, I know better than most what it feels like to be powerless. But I have to say, I just watched you tear apart battleships with your bare hands, so for you to talk about how weak you are, well, it just seems odd to me.”
“That was not my power. That was the power of...”
Trahzi tried to say something. He could tell it was on the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid to say it.
“Go ahead,” he urged. “Just say it.”
“That was the power you gave to me. That’s why I do not regret having changed. You feel like you took something away from me, but I feel like you gave me something. It is special to me, a precious gift.”
She held her hands over her heart. “What I feel inside when I look at you... I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I want to be like you, Gerald. I... admire you. Your strength. Your strength that is stronger than the fear of death. Your kindness. Your kindness toward the weak things in the universe like me. I want to stay with you, I want to make sure that you are safe, I want to make sure that no one threatens you ever again.”
Gerald realized where this was going and got scared. His gut was still aching from what happened with Ilrica earlier, and he felt like it was about to happen again. He didn’t want to rebuff her affections, but he didn’t want to give up on his goals either. His friendships with both Zurra and Ilrica were ruined because they wanted to be more than friends. In that moment, Gerald hated romance more than he ever had. It seemed to destroy every friendship he valued. He wished in his heart that everyone could just ignore it all like he chose to, but he knew that was, in the end, ridiculous.
Trahzi was supremely powerful, but she was also jealous, possessive, and a little obsessive. She was at best a very loose and very large cannon, and she was clearly fixated on him not just as a friend, but romantically.
Gerald rubbed his eyes. He could see nothing but trouble coming from this. In his mind, he could already see her incinerating Earth in a jealous rage. “Oh no. Not you too, Trahzi,” he said aloud without thinking.
She blinked. “What do you mean? I just want to be with you, to spend time with you.”
Gerald tilted his head. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought. “What? You mean you are not going to extort me into working for your father’s company, or trick me into signing a marriage contract, or hire a staff of crazy people to mold me into your idea of a perfect man, or demand I let everyone think I’ve died so we can go on a trip together?”
She looked at him oddly. “You say the strangest things.”
Gerald began to take heart in this. “So what? We’ll just be there for each other, watch each other’s backs, rely and trust and support one another?”
“Yes, of course.”
Gerald smiled. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe this could be a good thing. Maybe this could be a wonderful thing. Her people had no concept of marriage or romance of their own, so who’s to say that he and her simply couldn’t be very very close friends? That certainly wouldn’t break any of the goals he had for being a priest, and, to be honest, the idea of having someone he could trust was becoming more appealing by the second. There wasn’t really a term for what they would be. They would be more than friends, but less than lovers. They would discover what that meant along the way.
Without hesitation, Gerald thrust out his hand. “You know what? I accept. That sounds like a fine deal to me.”
“Excellent,” she smiled, taking his hand and shaking it. “So, does this mean we can have sex now?”
Gerald dropped his head. “Ugh.”
* * *
Invisible to most everything but the naked eye, the corsair ship swam its way right past a pair of monitoring satellites, absentmindedly blasting one of them to pieces just for kicks.
Inside, a single person sat in the command chair, her feet proper up on the navigation console, a captain’s cap resting back on her head.
Ilrica hated how quiet everything was. It was a terrible thing to be alone. She knew that better than most. Even for a time bender, the minutes can draw out like a knife. You can occupy your time, fill your time, spend it, waste it, trade it, fritter it, sleep it away, but in the end, without anyone to share it with, all you end up doing is getting older, with nothing to show for it.
Ilrica rolled over and moaned. That was the great economics of life, wasn’t it? Each living soul is granted a certain number of seconds. Some are given a great many, others are given very few. Some none at all. But to each that is given, they are free to exchange those seconds for whatever they wish to purchase with them. In the end, it was just simple math. Want to become a great triolin player? Exchange about ten thousand hou
rs, and you can become one. Want to earn a degree in Ulofian Medieval Art History? Eleven trimesters. Want to eat? About fifteen minutes, depending on how picky you are.
You can fudge the numbers, take shortcuts, trick your way out of paying as much here and there, but everyone must spend something to get something. You have to give away some of your seconds in order to obtain.
Ilrica rubbed her eyes. Except when you are alone, you turn in your seconds and you get nothing in return. At that point, you are just giving to the void.
She had planned on going on her trip alone. Swimming the underwater lakes of Nipton, taking a tour of Central Core, riding the glass rivers on Timmeron. Only now, barely a few hours into her dream vacation, she had already lost all desire to continue.
“I guess I have no choice.” She pulled out a cable and plugged it into the back of her neck. News windows appeared, flashing disturbing headlines about the declaration of war and the projected casualties. Already protestors on most of the core worlds were demanding the Bertulf be exterminated completely.
“Well, I guess there’s no need to use a secret channel anymore.”
Waving the media aside, she opened up a standard wave. A few seconds later, the Image of Liufr Ivaylo appeared before her.
“So, you did survive, after all,” he said.
“Aatuu, I’m coming home.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. You blew my cover. The Bertulf are at war with the Alliance now. There’s nothing more I can do out here.”
He snickered. “You think you’ve earned your place in the bonfire circle?”
“You know I do.”
Liufr snorted. “Very well,” he said reluctantly.
“What, really?” she said, perking up.
“It just so happens that our ally has made a special request of us. One for which you are uniquely suited.”
Ilrica leaned forward a wry little smile on her lips. “So you do need me after all.”
“Know your place, ilrica faolan!” he roared.
She wrapped her tail around her leg. “Sorry.”
“Do this one last thing for us, and your tainted blood will be purified to true hunter’s blood. You will be inducted into the clan as a full hunter, with all the rights and privileges that come with it, until the day till all are one. This I swear to you, by Faelan’s blood.”
Ilrica found herself bubbling with excitement. He had just made an unbreakable oath, a binding contract with her. After all these years, after all her hard work, she had begun to believe that this day would never come. Now, it was here. She was so happy she wanted to howl, but restrained herself. One more mission, just one more, and she would have a people. She would have a place. She would have a name. She would have everything.
“By Faelan’s blood, I swear it will be done, Aatuu” she gushed in the Bertulf tongue, nearly forgetting her part of the pact.
“That was well said,” he praised, acknowledging that her Bertulfian had improved significantly. “Fail, and you will never be able to return under any circumstance. You will be forever lost to us, your Bertulf blood will be declared forever tainted, and you will be nothing more than prey forever more. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” she said, her tail wagging happily back and forth. “What is my mission?”
“You are to track and hunt a single target.”
“Yeah, sure, who is it?” She was happy it would be something easy this time.
A window came up with a picture.
“He was one of your classmates at the Academy. Your mission is to kill Gerald Dyson.”
Ilrica’s eyes went wide, and her heart went numb.
Chapter Thirty-Two
There are two kinds of loyalty. The first is the kind that we take upon ourselves voluntarily. It makes us noble, makes us courageous, knits us together, keeps us honest, and helps us sacrifice for each other. The second is the kind that is thrust upon us, that is expected of us by the powers that be. That kind narrows our thinking, clouds our vision, divides us from one another, allows us to shut off our hearts and commit the most unspeakable acts. Be careful that you are possessed of the first kind of loyalty and not the second.
- Holy Scrolls of Soeck, Fifteenth Binding Eighty-fifth Stanza
Doctor Ko’Linna lifted his arms up, and allowed the Ssykes men to finish checking him out. It seemed they would never fully trust anyone who was not part of the family. Such was their way. He looked over at Cha’Rolette as she sat in her bed, making a funny face to her and trying to lighten the mood. She ignored him and continued with her exercises.
My goodness, have you been practicing all night again? He asked, watching her as she used her right hand to stack simple blocks. Her movements were shaky, her body would twitch involuntarily, occasionally knocking over a stack, but she pressed on, her eyes focused.
Any luck with the left hand? he asked, checking her aura.
She shook her head sadly.
Well, at the rate you are going, I’m sure we’ll get there soon.
Cha’Rolette tapped him on the shoulder and pointed over to a tablet.
Oh, would you like to use this? he asked, impressed. He held out the tablet and she scrolled through a few options with her good hand until she found a freehand writing option. Carefully she traced out the letters with her shaky hand. It took every ounce of her concentration.
Wow, I can’t tell you how impressed I am, he admitted. With the amount of damage you sustained...
She cut him off and pointed at what she had written.
Oh, let’s see here... hmmm... it says, Gerald Dyson... oh. His usually chipper countenance fell.
She nodded excitedly.
You want to see him don’t you?
She nodded anxiously.
Doctor Ko’Linna tried to fake a smile, but failed. Um, your father left specific instructions. That boy is never allowed to come near you again.
She furrowed her brow in confusion, and pointed at the tablet again.
Yes... I-I know, it’s just that your father won’t allow it.
She reached up and tapped the back of her neck.
I’m sorry, but it would be too dangerous at this point to reactivate your crystronics. There’s a reason why there is a minimum age for implants. We have to restore your motor skills first.
Cha’Rolette grabbed the tablet and threw it against the wall.
That was a good display of motor skills, he said, regretting the attempt at humor the second he uttered it. Look, I know it’s upsetting, but there’s really nothing I can do about it. I’m only contracted to the family.
Desperately she reached out her hand, trying to force her will on him, but her remaining ta’atu glowed only faintly, her powers completely ineffective on him.
Doctor Ko’Linnan was visibly concerned and excused himself.
As he left the room, Cha’Rolette covered her face with her good hand and cried silently.
* * *
Three gray-eyed Bertulf cubs pinned down a smaller one into the snow. The runt struggled as best she could, but found herself completely overpowered by their superior strength.
“I wanna see its eyes,” Úlfa said, sniffing distastefully.
“It smells like prey,” Ulva snorted, spraying snot onto the small child’s face.
Despite her struggles, they got a hold of her eyelid and forced it open.
“Eeeeww,” the cubs said in unison.
“Yuck, they really are green,” Úlfa spat.
The cub struggled and snarled, but her strength was as nothing before her assailants.
“Oh wow, it really can’t talk, can it?” Ulva taunted, smacking the cub on the face.
Tears began forming in those green eyes, but the cub blinked them back.
“Oh what, is it gonna cry now? You really are a faolan, aren’t you?”
“Ilrica faolan, ilrica faolan,” the cubs chanted spitefully.
“Just look at this garbage,” Ylva said, tearing apart the crude lean-t
o made of scraps and bone. “This must be where it sleeps.”
He picked up the small filthy blanket from within and tore it to pieces, but still the cub would not cry.
“Oh, look at it, pretending to be a brave hunter,” Ulva taunted.
“Just go ahead and cry, we know you want to, runt!”
They kicked her in the ribs. They pulled on her tail until she yelped with pain. They pulled at her stubby little ears. But still the cub would not cry.
A fifth cub ran up, concern in his gray eyes. “Three ganging up against one? That is not our way.”
“Shut up Ullok,” Úlfa snarled.
From the distance came a long droning howl that echoed through the snowy mountain range.
“They’re back from the hunt!” Ulva said happily, and they all scampered off. Only Ullok turned to look back before continuing on.
Once they were out of sight, the small cub wiped off her snout and crawled to the edge of the snowy embankment. Far down below, she could see the bonfire circle, and the cubs taking their place at it with the rest of the pack.
The ageing Alpha Lyall Ula threw down a trio of Gamuts and everyone howled a cheer. The horns were sawed off, and the young males praised the quality of the material. Finely carved kryssa knives would be made from these horns.
The females brought forth smaller prey they had hunted during the day and laid them down dutifully at the feet of the Alpha in offering. He accepted them, and the music began.
They were laughing, drinking, embracing, and feasting. The air was filled with the roaring heartbeat of life. The life of the clan. The life of the Bertulf. The only one who seemed somber was the young Liufr Ivaylo, who looked at the aged Alpha fiercely from the edge of the circle. There would be a challenge soon. Everyone could smell it. But that was also a reason to feast when the time came. The finest cuts of meat were sliced away and thrown into the fire, in offering to the Goddess Faelan.
The cub scooted back from the edge, the cold wind whipping against her short fur. She looked at her ruined lean-to. A storm was coming in. Her stomach hurt so bad she felt like screaming, but she made no sound. Even from this far away, they would be able to hear. Quietly, she gathered up the remnants of her dwelling, and curled up into a little ball underneath them, wrapping her short little tail around herself. And, when the wind was howling loud enough to mask the sound, she finally allowed herself to cry.
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