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Ruth's Bonded (Ruth & Gron Book 1)

Page 12

by V. C. Lancaster


  “Okay,” she choked out, trying to stay on top of the roiling guilt and doubt and fear rising up her throat. The aliens moved cautiously but quickly forward, grabbing Gron and doing things to his body that she couldn’t follow. She kept her hand on him and stiffly hurried to her feet as a floating gurney inflated under him.

  The next thing she knew she was on the ship, or she assumed she was. She felt sick, recognising the feeling from when she had been abducted. This alien race must have teleportation technology, she thought, feeling daunted. Before she could recover, Gron was whisked out of the room.

  “Wait!” she cried, trying to follow, but the leader alien from the cave stood in her way and held her back with one small cold clammy hand against her belly that made her flinch.

  “We will heal him now. Do not interfere. If you come with me, I will explain what I can of what has happened to you. Our scans show you are dehydrated and malnourished. I will arrange a meal for you, as I am not confident enough of your physiology to treat you in sickbay. I would also like to learn more about your species, who you are and where you come from.” The alien looked her up and down. “At the moment, you are an unexpected mystery to us.”

  The alien led her through metal corridors that were thankfully much higher than they needed to be for the much shorter aliens. Ruth guessed that if they were in the habit of transporting other species, larger corridors were a necessity. She found herself embarrassed by her nakedness again. No one had said anything or were even looking at her strangely, and it was these bastards who had taken her clothes in the first place, but she was the only naked person again and it made her uncomfortable.

  She tried to remember the path they were taking, but after a ride in an elevator, she knew she’d never be able to get back to where she’d arrived. She’d never be able to find Gron if she had to. There was alien writing on the walls but it told her nothing. If she was going to escape, she would have to find a weapon and threaten one of the aliens into helping her.

  The alien let her into what must have been its office or suite and gestured at a miniature dining table and chair.

  “Have a seat, I will order food for you,” it said in English, before speaking that awful jangle into the wall and joining her.

  Sitting on the chair wasn’t really an option since it made her feel like Gulliver in Lilliput, so she sat on the floor instead next to the tiny table. The alien took the chair on the other side.

  “I will explain everything as far as I know it,” it said, “If you are ready to hear it.”

  “More than ready,” Ruth growled.

  “The male you were with is, as I ex-”

  “Gron,” she interrupted.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “His name is Gron.”

  “Oh! They have names, that’s... We did not know that. How did you find that out?” the alien asked, seeming flustered.

  “I asked him.”

  “You asked him?”

  “Yeah, I asked him.”

  “You speak the same language?” The alien seemed amazed.

  “No, but we do alright,” Ruth responded cagily, not wanting to give this alien anything it could use against her.

  The alien paused, as if hoping for further explanation, but she made it clear none was coming. “I see,” it said. “Fascinating.”

  “I have a name too. It’s Ruth. Do you have a name?” Her tone was confrontational but she wasn’t sure how it would translate. It just pissed her off that these things thought of Gron and her as animals or something. Manners were universal surely.

  The alien looked flabbergasted, and it made Ruth feel good to be on the attack. “Me? Yes, certainly I have a name. My name is T’Lax Kranden Xshingat.”

  Ruth blinked. “Right. Well, you were about to tell me how I got here,” she said, quickly moving them on so she wouldn’t have to repeat that mess.

  “Yes. The male – Gron - is a member of an endangered species, as I told you. We call them the Gandry. They are native to a planet that unfortunately developed sapient life much later than its neighbours, so for a long time, they were seen mostly as animals, and their natural habitats were destroyed to make room for civilised expansion. By the time other species noticed what was happening and took action, there were less than a hundred Gandry left. Me and my crew are part of a conservation body that oversees the rescue of such cases from extinction. We organised the Gandry into optimal breeding conditions on protected land, and I may say they are doing remarkably well. They are, however, still classed as endangered, which makes them very valuable. The crew that took you and Gron were criminals, hoping to sell him on the black market. They teleported him from his planet just as they teleported you.”

  “Does Gron know any of this?” Ruth asked. “Does he know he’s part of a... conservation effort?”

  “No. Part of what makes the Gandry so interesting to our scientists is that the language centres in their brains totally resist any interaction with our translation or interpretation technology. They are the only species we have met that has such resistance, and we can’t explain it. It is really fascinating. They are also still at a primitive stage of development, basic tools only, no technology to speak of. It was deemed better to let them develop naturally at their own pace, rather than attempt to incorporate them with our society.”

  So Gron was a caveman, an extremely rare and expensive caveman. Ruth thought about that, but she didn’t care. She’d always known he was different, it didn’t change anything.

  “It doesn’t help of course that they react very aggressively when confronted with any other sapient life form,” the alien continued. “Except yours, it would seem. That too, warrants further study.”

  “You can study my ass,” Ruth replied.

  “Why? What does it do?” wondered the alien.

  “It’s an expression, it means go fuck yourself.”

  “The words coming through my interpreter are not making sense.”

  “I am reacting very aggressively when confronted with your sapient life form, is that clearer?” Ruth bit out. “I’m telling you I don’t want to be studied.”

  At that point the door to the room opened and an alien pushing a trolley with a number of plates approached, eyeing Ruth warily as if it expected her to attack. It quickly deposited the dishes on the table as well as a jug of water and left. T’Lax indicated she should eat, and she began picking at the dishes she thought looked the safest. She was starving, and her body devoured the meat and fruit in front of her, and half the jug of water before the alien remembered it was talking.

  “Ah. Well, that can be discussed at a later opportunity. To continue what I was saying, Gron was stolen from the protected conservation area by criminals of my own kind intending to sell him, presumably as a trophy of some kind. We believe that they took you as well thinking that the two of you would breed and they could sell the child, a staggeringly ill-informed idea proving that they knew nothing of the laws of nature or the Gandry. Presumably this was an idea they had en route to the market on the planet below us, and they simply scanned the surrounding space, found your species - which I must admit looks remarkably similar to the Gandry, you must tell me more about yourself – and teleported a female of breeding age at random. They clearly expected the close quarters of the cage to be enough to induce mating, but again they prove their ignorance. The Gandry have been considered animals for centuries, but our studies reveal that they actually follow strict mating practices. They have also never produced offspring in captivity. Really, all this information is readily available. The criminals who took you were bafflingly lazy in their research. More to the point, you are different species, it is highly unlikely you could produce offspring.”

  “Is that why they took my clothes?” Ruth interrupted. This guy sure liked to listen to the sound of his own grating voice.

  T’Lax seemed startled by the interruption, as if it had knocked him off track. “They took your clothes?”

  “Yeah. They came into
the cell, fought us with these... Anyway, they held me down and cut off my clothes.” Ruth did not want to sound primitive in front of this jackass by describing the stick-things inaccurately.

  “So your species wears clothes? How interesting, I must investigate that further... Would you like me to find you some now? Perhaps a blanket, or...” The alien trailed off, its eyes surveying her naked body for the first time and Ruth tried not to flinch or snarl at it.

  “Yes, please,” she ground out instead, and T’lax got up and spoke into the wall again.

  “I assume that, if Gron failed to impregnate you, they thought your nakedness might make him more inclined to try. They could have been running out of time before the sale, getting desperate. Any Gandry is valuable, but a single adult male would be valuable as a trophy only. A baby Gandry could be sold as a pet, for science, even to eat to some species, and I could not begin to calculate the value of a viable hybrid. Certainly, to science, it would be invaluable, as would you if you managed to breed with a species not your own. Did you know they tried to sell you as a mated pair? That made the buyers suspicious as the price did not go up nearly as much as it should have.”

  The door opened again and the trolley came back, this time with piles of folded fabric, which were placed beside her so that the trolley-bearer could escape swiftly. Ruth dug through the folds, finding that mostly it was loose, uncut fabric. There were a few articles of what she assumed were clothes, but they would never have fit her. For the moment she grabbed a patterned red piece and wrapped it around her shoulders. She would try for a toga when she had more privacy.

  “We had been tracking the crew that stole you since we realised what had happened. When you escaped on the planet’s surface, we already had our agents posing as potential buyers. We were stunned to see you, of course, but it worked out in the end. Gron had not been selected by his female for mating, so really, you represent an interesting opportunity for study, at no loss to the breeding pool of Gandry.”

  Ruth suspected she was supposed to feel excited about that, but it still sent shivers down her spine, the way T’Lax talked about studying her and Gron breeding.

  “What do you mean, Gron has a female?” she asked.

  “The Gandry live in family groups led by an alpha female. She selects from the males who she wishes to mate with, and if a male is not chosen, he either leaves the group or does not produce offspring. There is much we do not know about Gandry social practices though. It is hard to observe them inside the protected conservation zone,” T’Lax explained.

  So Gron was single. That was a relief.

  “That is all I know about your situation. Do you have any questions for me?” the alien offered.

  “Is Gron going to live?” Ruth said.

  T’Lax got up and spoke into the wall, waiting for a reply. When it came he announced “The poison has been set back. He will recover.”

  Ruth let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Okay. Gron was going to live.

  “Are you really going to take him back to his people?” she asked next.

  The alien sat down across from her again. “Yes, in a population as small as the Gandry, every individual is vital.”

  “Can you take me back to my planet?”

  T’Lax paused for a moment as if chewing over his answer, and Ruth watched apprehensively. So far the alien had demonstrated that he cared nothing for, or perhaps simply did not understand, the feelings and motivations of the people he claimed to be protecting. The Gandry, and Ruth by association, were to be studied, their numbers maintained for science and biological diversity.

  “I could. But I have no inclination to do so. Gron has chosen you as a mate. If your breeding proves successful, introducing another species to the Gandry population could advance their development by hundreds of years, and rescue them from extinction. Your protective behaviour towards him in the cave suggests that you have accepted him as your mate as well. As unlikely as it is that you will produce offspring, I cannot risk sending you away while that chance exists. All our evidence suggests that male Gandry are monogamous for life, which means that if Gron is to ever produce offspring, it will be with you.”

  Ruth let that sink in. This dickbag was deciding she would never go home again, because she might, on the off-chance, pop out a baby for Gron, and he wanted to watch. That made her want to ram his little head into the table. At the same time, the idea that Gron might be attached to her in some genuine, meaningful, forever kind of way made her tingle with happiness and quake in fear. She had never intended that, never considered that that might be the consequence of her actions. She’d certainly never intended to bind Gron to her in a way he couldn’t get out of. She wanted it to be his choice, she wanted him to be able to go home and rejoin his life, even if she couldn’t.

  “So what are you going to do with me?” she asked.

  T’Lax picked a piece of food from one of the plates and popped it into his mouth. “For now, keep you and Gron together. When you are both healthy, you will be teleported to the protected conservation zone to rejoin the Gandry population there. All efforts will be made to supply an environment conducive to mating, and if you require anything in that regard, please do let us know. I understand this is a personal matter for you, but please consider the greater good. We are talking of the future of an entire race. I admit you are more intelligent and more advanced than I anticipated. Perhaps you will be able to help us more formally in our conservation efforts, and our studies of Gandry society. But that can be discussed later. For now, is there anything more you need?”

  “Am I a prisoner?” Ruth asked.

  T’Lax’s face did something that scared her, but when he spoke he sounded amused. “We are in space. None of us can leave this ship, if that is what you mean. I am confident you have never encountered our technology before, so I doubt you are much of a threat. I see no reason to keep you imprisoned in the way you were when you were stolen from your home. That being said, I hope you will be a polite guest, and not abuse our hospitality. Your importance to us depends entirely on your importance to Gron. If you decide you want nothing more to do with him or any Gandry, then we have no more reason to negotiate with you.”

  Ruth knew a threat when she heard one. Be a good girl and do what we want, and you’ll be treated well. Disobey us, and be launched into space.

  “I want to wash myself, and then I want to see Gron,” she said.

  Chapter 22

  The aliens didn’t have showers, but Ruth was able to negotiate a tub of water and, most importantly, soap. She’d still love some proper shampoo and conditioner, but she was one step closer to feeling like her old self. She wrapped the length of cloth into a very passable toga, then let herself be led to where they were keeping Gron.

  It was clearly their medical ward. Ruth followed an alien into a large room with lots of clear cabinets filled with supplies, and strange machines taking up most of the space. Everything was about three feet shorter than what it would have been for humans, though the ceiling was high enough for Ruth to stand comfortably.

  In the middle of the room was Gron, still unconscious, lying on a large framed pallet under a bright light. Ruth hurried to him, and was relieved to see that he’d gained some colour back and appeared to be breathing more easily now. A strange silvery cuff circled his arm where the original puncture wound was. There were other aliens in the room, presumably doctors, who were watching her with interest. Ruth knew she would be studied every second she was on this ship, more so when she was with Gron. It made her skin itch. She wanted to send them all out of the room, but she didn’t even know if these ones would be able to understand her, and the way they were staring so openly made her think they wouldn’t listen. Maybe she could pick them up and throw them out.

  “We will keep him sedated until we transport you to the protected conservation area,” spoke one of the aliens, but she couldn’t tell who.

  “He’s going to be okay?” Ruth asked, gently runnin
g her fingers up Gron’s arm, which was warm again.

  “He is not in danger anymore,” answered one of the doctor aliens.

  Ruth was almost afraid to touch him now, which was ridiculous, she knew, after making love to him like she had, but the memory of him dying cold and still in her arms only hours ago was still terrifyingly fresh in her mind and she was afraid that she could somehow transfer it back to him if she touched him. But nothing happened as her fingers brushed his skin, so she grew bolder and allowed herself to grip his hand as tight as she could.

  “Can I stay with him?” she asked.

  “Certainly.”

  “Alone?” The aliens looked at each other and Ruth gritted her teeth. “You can lock us in,” she offered, though it pained her. She wanted to lie down next to Gron and feel his heart beating and his chest moving with every breath. She wanted to feel with her whole body that he was alive, and she wanted to talk to him even though he was unconscious, and couldn’t understand her anyway, just in case he would recognise her voice and draw some comfort from it. And she didn’t want to be observed and noted on when she did it. She didn’t want to go back to the cell, or turn this room into one, but she wanted the privacy. She just wanted to be with Gron right then, whether she could leave the room or not. She wouldn’t leave him behind anyway.

  One of the aliens went to speak into one of the wall coms and all Ruth could do was wait for the decision. After a moment a command came back and the aliens filtered out. The doctor ones stayed behind long enough to put things away and lock the cupboards, but eventually Ruth was alone with Gron. She looked down at him - he didn’t even know she was there. She climbed onto the low pallet with him, fitting herself against his side, her back pressed to the frame. She knew she was probably still being watched, but at least if they weren’t in the room with her, she could pretend. She gripped his chest to keep herself close to him and listened to his breathing for a few moments.

 

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