“No, I'm not going to— I should get to hear what he has to say."
She's right, of course. But I would like a chance to translate whenever my brother says into something more palatable for her to hear. Which I cannot do if he’s speaking her language. “I promise I will fill you in," I tell her. "Just please give us a few minutes first."
"Fine." She scowls as she heads inside.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I turn to my brother. "What the hell are you doing here? How dare you lay your hands on my woman?"
"Listen to yourself, brother. She's not your woman. She can't be and you know that."
"Yes she can." He starts to argue with me, but I speak over him. "How did you even know she was here?"
“Evah came to see me. She said you were harboring a tiny human woman, and that your entire hut smells like her.”
Evah. Of course. “She's just upset because I don't want a mate.”
"That doesn't make what she said any less true." Mahr glances at the closed door. “However, now I have reason to doubt your claim not to want a mate. That human woman doesn't belong here.”
“No one belongs here," I point out.
“Lohr, you know what happened last time you found human!”
"This is different.”
“Yes, this is much worse. They killed our parents—they shot me—for doing nothing more than trying to tend that child’s wounds. What do you think they will do when they find out that you’re mating with this human woman?”
"They won't find out.” I take his arm and pull him farther away from my den, even though there's no way Syrie can understand what we're saying. “Last time, I led to them to her. I brought them to our home. My mistake was trying to give her back. I won't make that mistake again."
“Lohr—”
“I'm going to keep her."
“Shit.” My brother shoves both hands into his mane and pulls on double handfuls of his thick hair, a gesture he has made in times of great stress since we were children. “Lohr, you know you cannot keep this woman. She doesn't belong here. She probably doesn't even want to be here.”
“She cares for me. She likes it here. She is mine."
“She isn't. If she seems to care for you, it's an act. An attempt to keep herself safe. She would be dead out here without you, and no doubt she understands that. But she will escape this planet at the first possible chance."
“No, she won't. She had that chance, and she hid instead of crying out for help. So that she could stay with me." I sigh, begging him wordlessly to understand. “She is mine, Mahr. She will stay with me.”
He exhales slowly. "How did she get here?"
“Someone put her here. Someone took her from her bed, in her slumber, and stuck her in a cage, then pushed her out of a shuttle into our enclosure. Directly into the path of my net. That has to mean something."
Mahr frowns, his focus narrowing on me. “You think someone put her here intending for you to find her?"
“Nothing else makes sense. If she had been dropped anywhere else, she would have been dead before anyone could find her. Someone put her here for me. Someone knew she was supposed to be with me.”
“Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"
“I don't care how it sounds. She was here before, and now she's back. That can't be coincidence. I found her twice, and this time I'm going to keep her."
“Twice?” His frown deepens. His posture tenses. “What do you mean, twice?"
"It's her, Mahr. The child from all those years ago. Syrie is the little girl I found wandering through a field, bleeding from a head wound.”
“No, that isn’t—”
“Yes. She told me about what she remembers of that day, before she knew I was the one who found her.”
"How is that possible? Out of all the women in the universe how could the same one wind up here twice?”
“It's fate, Mahr. She was meant for me then, but we were too young to know about things like that. But now she's back, and that has to mean something." I can see him wrestling with idea. He wants to argue, but the coincidence is too much. There has to be meaning behind it, and even if he can't understand that, I can. Syrie and I are meant for each other.
Finally, he exhales again, long and slow. “They'll find her, and when they do, they will kill you.”
"She isn't a kid anymore. She can make her own decisions. If she wants to stay, they will have to let her.”
“You've lost your mind.” Mahr throws his arms in the air and spins away from me, grasping for patience. “They're not going to let her stay,” he insists as he finally turns back to me. “This place was never intended for humans, and the minute a tour group gets a glimpse of her, they will call the guards. And this will end just like it did the first time—with shouting, and guns, and blood—only this time they won't spare you because you're not a kid anymore."
But he’s wrong. Syrie won’t let that happen this time. If her family owns the planet, then everyone who works here will surely know who she is. If she tells them to stand down, they will have no choice but to do that. If she tells them she wants to stay, surely they will have no choice but to abide by her wishes.
However, I don't want to tell him that. Her identity is not my secret to reveal.
“I appreciate your concern, brother, but there are things you don't understand. Things that are none of your business. We will be fine. And we would welcome your company on occasion, so long as you come without ulterior motive. You cannot make her decisions for her, and you cannot make mine for me.”
Mahr gives me a solemn nod. “I only want to protect you both. After last time…"
“I understand. But that was not your choice to make. And you owe Syrie an apology.”
His jaw tightens and I can hear his teeth grind together. But he nods, so I turn toward my den and call Syrie outside.
“Did you two work this shit out?" she asks. “I mean, I thought my brother was as asshole…"
“Mahr meant you no harm," I assure her. “In fact, he was trying to protect us both. But that was not his decision to make, so he owes you an apology.”
“I owe you both an apology,” Mahr says. “And I am truly sorry for having interfered. However, I hope you will also take my advice.”
“Mahr…” I growl, but my brother ignores me.
“Lohr is not safe with you here. I assume you remember what happened last time.”
Her expression sobers with the reminder of who he is, not just to me, but to her. “I do, and I'm so sorry,” she says. “And I guess, considering that I'm the reason you were shot, you have a good reason to believe that I'm dangerous. But I promise you I would never do anything to hurt your brother, and I would never let anyone else hurt him either."
“I’m afraid you’re overestimating your influence over other members of your species. Being grown now does not mean you can stop men from firing guns,” Mahr insists.
Syrie’s jaw tightens as she holds back the explanation. Her true identity.
My brother sighs. “Well then, I will take my leave. But if it's okay with you both I'll be back tomorrow to help with the slaughter,” Mahr says, with a glance at the yalneq carcass.
“Of course," I tell him.
“Wait, before you go…” Syrie says. “Where, um… Where were you trying to take me?"
“To the guard station. I was just going to take you close enough that you could see it. So that you could get there on your own, because it isn’t safe for me to be found with you, even if I was only trying to help you.”
Shock washes over Syrie’s features. “Guard station? There's a guard station?”
“Yes. There's one at every enclosure border, as far as I can tell. They function as gates between the biospheres. That's how those glass bubbles get from one enclosure to the other.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. I didn't remember that. My dad and I must've gone through one of those gates when I was a kid, but I don't remember that!”
“
Your memory of the day is less than reliable," I agree.
“That means I could've left at any time! I could have just— Oh my god, did you know? Did you know about these gates? Did you know you could have taken me to one at any time?”
“Of course,” I inform her, because outright lying to her is different than simply withholding the information. It's a line I will not cross. Even in the face of her anger.
But it isn't anger shining her eyes. It's betrayal. “Well then why didn't you?”
“Because, at first, I knew only that you were dangerous. That the last time a human was found in our enclosure, my parents were killed and my brother was shot. I believed it was dangerous for me to be seen with you. I wouldn't have even brought you home with me except that you were terrified to be left alone, and I couldn't make myself abandon you. By the time it occurred to me that I could take you to the guard station—that I could do exactly what my brother just tried to do—I no longer wanted to.”
“You didn’t— You didn't want to? You didn't want to help me go home? I asked you for help and you said you would help me. I promised to repay you. And you just decided you didn't want to? Why?”
I exhale slowly. This isn't how I wanted to tell her. “Because I love you. Because you are mine. You were meant for me. We were meant for each other.”
“But that’s— that's not your choice to make!”
“No, it was your choice, and you made it. When that surface glider stopped near my den, and the walls transitioned. You could have called for help. You could have gotten yourself rescued, and that's what I expected you to do. But you chose to stay. You chose to hide from them and stay with me and when I asked you why, you said that you were not ready to leave. That was your choice.”
“But I had been here for three weeks by then, and you never even mentioned the guard stations! You never mentioned that I could leave any time I wanted!”
“Because I did not want you to go! I won't apologize for that, Syrie, because it was the right choice. You proved that when you chose to stay here on your own. Because you know as well as I do that we belong together.”
“But Lohr, I don't belong here!” she shouts, tears filling her eyes.
“No one belongs here,” I roar at her. “I don't belong here. Mahr doesn't belong here. Evah doesn't belong here. My parents didn't belong here, and neither does the rest of my community. Neither do any of the other ‘aliens’ in the other enclosures. But we are here. We have lives here, and so could you. I thought that's what you wanted. I thought that's why you stayed. You said you couldn't just go back and forget about this. About me. I thought that meant…” I don't know how to finish that thought.
I thought she understood how I felt. I thought she felt the same.
“I can't just forget about this," she says. "I won't. But that doesn't mean that I can just…stay here. This isn't my world, Lohr. These aren't my people. I have friends, and family, and a job— Well, no, not a job. I'm not going to take that job. But I have a life out there and I can't just abandon it. My family probably thinks I'm dead!”
I know that I should feel guilty about that, but I don't. Her family is responsible for so much pain and death. For generations of people plucked from their home planets and kept here against their will. On display.
Her family does not deserve her company. They don't even deserve to know that she's still alive. I am sorry that I’ve hurt her, and her tears sting as if I were crying them myself. But if me keeping her here has caused her family pain, so be it. They could cry for her for a year and still not match the tears my brother and I shed for my parents.
“I have to go." She takes my hand, and her tears spill over. "You know I have to go."
"You don't though. You can do whatever you want." She only has to want to stay with me.
“Take me to the guard station,” she says, her spine stubbornly straight. “Please.”
“Syrie…”
“Please.”
But I can't. So I turn to Mahr. “You take her.”
“Lohr!” she calls after me, as I stomp into my den. But I can’t turn back. I can’t see her again, knowing I’m about to lose her. So I go inside and lean with my back pressed to the closed door while their footsteps fade into the distance.
16
Syrie
Mahr starts walking in the same direction he carried me off in earlier, which is my only indication that he's actually going to take me to the guard station. I hurry after him, rubbing my arms to warm them. “Thank you,” I say, resisting the urge to ask him slow down. In response, he grunts, and I'm really starting to see the family resemblance.
I'm pleased to note that this time he seems to be avoiding the forest, yet my legs burn from the strenuous pace after what can't be more than half an hour of walking. Still, I'm grateful for the help. I feel terrible about how I left things with Lohr.
“He didn't even say goodbye." I don't realize I’ve said it out loud until Mahr turns to me with a frown.
“He thought you were going to stay. He truly believed that you would choose him over whatever you have out there." He waves one arm at the sky, to indicate my real life, off-world. “He's hurt."
“I know. That wasn't my intent, but I can't… I mean I can't just…"
“It's better this way," Mahr says. “You're dangerous for him, even if he doesn't see that."
“I'm not, though. I would never let anything happen to him. I owe him my life.”
“You owe him more than that. You owe him our parents’ lives."
“Well that… That’s not fair. I was just a kid back then. I had no idea what would happen. I was just alone and scared.”
Mahr grunts again, and we walk in silence for a while.
Finally, he stops and points into the distance. "It's through there. Do you see the shimmer?"
I squint in the direction he's pointing, and yes, I do see a shimmer. It's the edge of the enclosure—the side of a transparent dome containing all of the terraforming from Lohr's homeworld, keeping it distinct from the other biospheres. "I see it," I tell him. "But I don't see a guard station."
"You will," he says. "It's camouflaged to blend into the environment. But if you keep walking that direction, they will see you. They will come for you."
"Alone?" It's several hundred yards. If a predator comes out of the woods, it'll have plenty of time to eat me before I get to the edge of the dome.
"Yes, alone," he says. "I remember well how your people repay kindness from my people."
Okay, that's fair.
"Well, thank you." I start to offer him my hand, but I'm not sure the Fetoji shake hands. "Please tell Lohr... Please tell him that I'm sorry. This isn't how I wanted it to end."
He nods, but I'm not sure he's actually going to deliver the message. Mahr and I have just met, but I already understand that if he thinks my words will hurt his brother, he will not relay them. And I can't really blame him for that.
"Thank you again," I say. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this. Maybe someday…"
Mahr grunts again, and finally I turn toward the wall of the dome. I make myself walk without looking back, because I'm afraid that if I turn, he will be gone. I will really be out here on my own, and if that's the case, I'd rather not know it.
As I walk, the shimmer of the barrier comes into crisper focus. Soon I can see the surface beneath the shine, and then suddenly the guard station appears, as if out of nowhere. It still looks like the ground moss, and the trees, and the sky, but now I can see the structure of walls and doors and windows through the illusion.
Tears blur my vision. Rescue suddenly feels so close, and I start running.
Seconds later, the camouflage disappears, and the guard station stands out starkly, its walls dark, with a matte finish that seems to absorb daylight. A door opens, and three men emerge wearing black uniforms. Carrying rifles. One of them aims his weapon at me and shouts for me to stop, but another forces the first men's rifle down and says something I can't hear.
I keep running until I stumble to a stop several yards away. "My name is Francesca Montgomery. I need help.”
"Ms. Montgomery, can I get you anything else?" the guard with the shaved head asks. His rifle hangs across his chest and his boots clomp on the floor as he crosses the small breakroom toward me. "I'm sorry we don't have much in the way of food around here. It's mostly just the vending machines. But Sgt. Herschel is looking in her locker to see if she has something that will fit you, so that we can at least get you out of those…rags."
"I'm fine, thank you. The coffee is more than enough." I wrap both hands around my mug, enjoying the warmth, as well as the first caffeine I've had in weeks now. “Do you know when my parents will arrive?"
“Their ETA is about two hours, ma'am. They're coming in their personal cruiser."
It's long range, and the fastest ever produced—nothing but the best for the Montgomerys. "Did they…? Did they even know I was missing? Did anyone?”
"I'm sorry ma'am, I don't have an answer for you on that matter." And he does look sorry. The pity in his eyes burns deep into my soul.
“Of course not. Thank you for everything, but I'm really fine. Would you mind if I had a few moments alone?"
“No problem. If you need anything, just press the button by the door and someone will come immediately. I'm sorry that you'll actually have to get up for that. Your voice isn't programmed into the automated system.”
“There's no reason it would be. Thank you, sergeant.”
He nods and takes his leaves, and the door slides shut behind him. And for moment all I can do is stare into my coffee. It's so strange to be here, in a sterile room with climate control, drinking from a real mug, after weeks out in the wilderness, making do with primitive supplies and resources. I should be overjoyed. Yet, I kind miss Lohr’s hut.
Maybe I'm still in shock.
I have no idea what happened to my luggage and my personal com device. Presumably someone found them, but considering the kind of vessel I was on, I highly doubt that whoever found my belongings turned them in to the crew or even reported my absence. Which means all of my contacts and data could be compromised. Ironically, since I don't have my com device, I can't order replacements for anything until I find a console—
The Lion and the Mouse Page 17