Gamma Rift

by Kalli Lanford

  I flinched at the thought of losing a piece of my shell or having it purposely split under the will of my father. America’s hand shifted against mine, and I turned my wrist to hold her hand.

  “And careless humans die every year when they take chances and rip their skin.”

  A soft sigh came from her lips, and she interlocked her fingers with mine. Heat exploded under my shell once again, and I longed to keep touching her, to pull her soft body against my chest and hold her and tell her everything would be okay, that she’d be released and sent home.

  This being was having an effect on me that Lestra never could, but how? Was it America’s soft form and delicate movements, her clear voice, sharp and penetrating, grating at my soul, her dark eyes, reflective and warm, her mouth outlined with soft, red flesh in the shape of a Hestian flower? I didn’t know. Or maybe it was just pity, simple compassion pulling on my heart, telling me to break any rule I had to in order to set this miraculous being free.

  Whatever it was made me ache with the desire to explore not only her body, but also her mind. Everything about this creature filled me with raw, determined emotions, emotions I hadn’t experienced before, but would need in order to save her.

  “Do you think you will be able to help me?” asked America. Her delicate lips puckered.

  “I will do everything I can,” I said.

  She blinked, and I reached out to touch the tiny hairs that fluttered above her eyes. Several droplets of water fell to my finger. America was crying silent tears accompanied by a sniffle here and there, not like Enestians with our loud exasperation of clacking shell when we shivered and cried into our hands.

  It had been a long time since I last cried. In fact, I didn’t even remember the incident. Crying, especially uncontrollably, wasn’t fitting for a prince. But with princesses, it was okay. Murelle was moody and cried all the time.

  “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.” My own eyes became watery like they did when I watched the Trispian wince under the glare of white light, and it took everything I could to stop it.

  “I know. I’m glad you’re here. It helps a little, knowing someone will be trying to find a way to get me out of here. I, I just want to go home.” She brought her arms around me, and I held her while she sobbed against my shoulder, her body hot and trembling against mine.

  “And I will take you there if I can. If not, I am going to at least make sure you live.” But how I’d do that? I still didn’t know.

  The sound of the wave of wall retracting made me turn my head. “It’s time for me to go.”

  “No, please, don’t leave. Not yet,” said America, tightening the blanket around her body as I stood and pulled her up with me.

  “I have to. It’s too risky to stay any longer. I’ll come back tomorrow, and maybe by then, I’ll have more answers.”

  “Wait,” she said, and just before the last bit of wall disappeared into the ceiling, she rose on her toes and kissed my lips. I burned to pull her against me, lengthen the kiss, and let my hands travel the soft curves of her body, but the wall was gone now, leaving us exposed to the hall.

  “Thank you,” I said in a tone I hoped let her know that her kiss was more than welcomed and that I was leaving her wanting more.

  Lestra approached. She stood, her eyes set first on me and then on America, her jaw fixed and the small plates around her nostrils flaring like a mad vinyip bull.

  “Tomorrow,” I said, slipping my hand from hers. “And I’ll be alone this time. I promise.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  America

  Alone time with Garran. That’s what I wanted. If I couldn’t go home, being with him at least helped stave my fear and loneliness.

  The wall descended with a sizzle, and I watched Garran become all shadow as he turned and walked away.

  “Strange but so beautiful,” I whispered as I touched my lips with the soft pad of my index finger. It was an unusual sensation kissing him, missing the cushioned give of flesh against flesh, but his firm lips were smooth, warm, and well-defined, and their unique tactile pressure was more than pleasant against my tender skin.

  “I hate this,” I said, my words ricocheting around my tiny room as I stood wrapped in my odd blanket. “I’m bored. I’m hungry. I’m scared,” I said to Slaine’s blurry figure.

  And I wanted Garran. His gentle embrace had consoled me while I wept. And I liked his kiss so much I wanted more. Thinking about Garran settled me somewhat as I rekindled his words and gentle touch in my head while awaiting his return. His lack of skin didn’t matter. His shell was immaculate and smooth, warm and comforting against me, and the more I remembered the curves of his face and the unique sparkle in his eyes, the more handsome and regal he became.

  “I must be going crazy,” I moaned as I sank to the ground. But I wasn’t. The yearning for Garran and the rustling in my soul was unexpected, but it was real.

  I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, Slaine was there, wavering a bit as he shifted his weight between his feet. A moment later, the curtain of my containment solidified and withdrew, leaving a trace of the unidentifiable odor as it slowly revealed Slaine’s sizeable frame.

  Why was he entering my cell? With my heart pounding, I scooted to the corner and adjusted my blanket, giving it a pull and re-tucking a corner against my chest. I didn’t fear him; I feared what he may have been ordered to do, such as escorting me to an examination table.

  The urge to jump to my feet and dodge left to freedom was there, but even at full strength, there was no way I could bring that being down if he caught me. His shell casing alone was probably twice my weight, and these creatures were unbelievably agile, their movements unrestricted and graceful despite their hard exteriors. Besides, again, where would I go?

  He said a few words strung together, his voice deep, but in an eerie way, oddly soothing as he stood above me confidently; it didn’t take a human to see that I was miserable, and those unusual eyes of his held sympathy as he tilted his head and the plates around his eyes shifted.

  Slaine watched me as he crouched down, his thick legs bent at the knee, the thin fabric of his pants revealing the outline of several plates of shell overlapping at the joint. These aliens were so human, yet not so human at the same time.

  I searched the deep blue of his eyes, blue eyes that sparked with flecks the golden color of a lion’s hide, like Garran’s but different. They were strong, but naive and dutiful—Tarzan eyes.

  In the dim light, his shell was shadowed blue in places, accentuating the contours and hallows. He wore a short-sleeved shirt today, giving me the first chance to see a set of bare, Enestian arms. Though covered in a shell as hard as stone, they were as defined as a body builder’s, as if the shell itself had been molded from a human male arm. I could only assume the muscles and tendons underneath mirrored those of a human being.

  Slaine said something. The words were foreign, of course, but the look on his face and his body language were as readable as a human’s with his overlapping facial plates coming together between his eyes. He pulled something from a lower pocket on his tunic and opened his hand. In his palm was a cluster of round, grape-like fruit, their yellow skins so shiny I could almost see my reflection as I peered down at them.

  “Thank you,” I said and took the string of fruit, noting its green, spindly vine.

  He reached out to touch my hair with his index finger. A stray strand hung over my shoulder, its ends cascading over his hand before he stood and backed away, his blue Tarzan eyes searching my soul like he wanted to understand what it meant to be human.

  A moment later, he rose from the ground and made his way from my cell. The milky wall lowered, and while Slaine stood once again outside my room like a Buckingham Palace guard, I plucked the largest fruit from its stem and popped it in my mouth. My tongue bathed in unimaginable sweetness, I took a small breath through my nose and savored the fruit’s rich juices.

  I was so appreciative of Slaine’s small kindness an
d hoped that meant Garran might find enough others to sympathize with my plight and help him take me home.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Garran

  “I still can’t believe you touched it,” said Lestra when we arrived at my quarters. She threw her hands in the air, and I realized how lucky I was that she didn’t witness America kissing me. I didn’t need any more of Lestra’s shit.

  “And I still can’t believe you knew that the code to enter the lab would also override a shell scan. You should have told me.”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “From any kind of alien diseases it might be carrying. But now I know that wasn’t the only thing that needed to be protected.”

  “Yeah, like what?”

  “Like your feelings for it. The way you touched it— It wasn’t like a scientist examining a foreign life form. You did it in— ”

  “And you wouldn’t have known I had if you’d followed my orders and stayed down the hall with your brother until it was time for us to leave,” I said, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

  “But you did it in a lovingly sort of way, like you cared about that thing,” she continued.

  “It’s not a thing. She’s an intelligent being, a human being, with thoughts and feelings just like you and me.”

  “It is a weak, ugly creature.”

  “Being shell-less does not make her ugly or weak, but she does need our help, or she’ll end up like the Trispian.”

  “So?”

  “So, you were pissed when I told you about the live dissection. I know you don’t agree with my father’s experiments, so your continued apathy when it comes to America doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Yes, it does. She’s shell-less,” she huffed. “She’s an inferior being.”

  “She deserves to live, and I’m going to make sure that happens.”

  “You did what you initially wanted to do. You saw it, and you talked to it. Isn’t that enough?” she pleaded.

  “No. Not anymore.” Now that I’d felt her touch, I couldn’t stop wanting to learn more about her and touch her again.

  “Well, it has to be enough. There’s nothing you can do for her. There is no point in visiting that thing again. You’ll never be able to stop your father.”

  Lestra threw her hip out to one side and folded her arms, and I noticed for the first time today that she was wearing a fitted dress rather than her usual leggings and tunic. It was a plain dress, coarse and beige—servant’s colors, so she wasn’t breaking any rules—but I could swear her arms shimmered in the light when she moved, as if they were covered in a fine dusting of shell powder.

  “Garran, I am not trying to be mean. I’m just thinking about your feelings. Remember the Verlian snup you received at the turn of your tenth year?”

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh. Why did she have to bring this sad subject up? That was over ten years ago.

  “That day when it split its shell, your father wanted to take it to his lab and have it euthanized, but no, you threw a fit and insisted on trying to nurse it back to health. And what happened, Garran?” I dropped my head to my chin with a clack. “It died a week later,” she continued.

  “So, what’s your point?”

  “You grew attached to it during that week, making its death more difficult for you. If you had let your father—”

  “The snup was an animal. The being in cell fifteen is a human girl.” I was already attached to America, and in a way that made me hot under my shell. I just hoped Lestra couldn’t see how attached.

  “Well, I don’t see the difference.”

  As she continued to stand there so smug and judgmental, I was tempted to tell her to wash off her shell powder, but I didn’t.

  “I’m going to see her again today. Alone. I trust you not to tell my father about it. Don’t forget that your brother is involved in this now. If I get reprimanded, so will Slaine,” I warned her.

  “He’s only involved because you practically forced him to be.”

  Oh, the impudence of this palace maid. If she spoke this way to Father, she’d be demoted to a lesser planet, though I was too angry to remind her of that fact. “Yeah, but I can always leave that part out of my story if I get caught,” I threatened, even though I would never selfishly betray Slaine like that.

  “Get caught doing what?” Murelle stood in my doorway, sparkling with bright pink shell powder.

  “Why do you insist on barging into my room all the time? Get out,” I snarled, shooting up from the bed, “before I crack!”

  “Calm down. What’s wrong with you? You two sure have been spending a lot of time together. I know why she wants to be around you, Garran, but why do you want to spend so much time with her? What are the two of you up to anyway?”

  “We’re not up to anything. Now leave!”

  “Really? I’m not so sure about that.” Murelle strolled across my room until she was face-to-face with Lestra. “Why are you in my brother’s quarters?”

  Lestra lowered her head and bowed. “What do you mean, your royal?”

  “Leave her alone, Murelle. She’s here because I asked her to…help me with my studies. That’s all. Now go away.”

  Murelle laughed, a horrible, high-pitched laugh accompanied by the clacking of her jaw shells. “Your studies? As if she’d know anything about dual propulsion systems. Why are you really here?”

  “Don’t answer her, Lestra. I outrank my sister by almost two years. You know the rules. You need to answer to me first, not her.”

  “Are you wearing shell powder? How dare you!” she scowled, grabbing Lestra’s arm to give it an inspection. “That’s my shell powder. The one that disappeared from my room days ago. I knew it had to be you. You’re the only Timuary I ever see near my quarters.”

  Lestra jerked her arm from Murelle’s tight hold and stood facing my sister, her shoulders square and her height elevated by rising on her toes. She already beat Murelle by a half dimit, and as Murelle cowered, it was obvious Lestra could beat her in a brawl.

  “How dare you,” snapped my sister. “I’m going to report you to—”

  “You’re not going to report anybody. I’m the one who gave Lestra the shell powder. I’m the one who took it from your room. You have so much of it. I honestly didn’t think you’d miss one little tin. I gave it to Lestra and told her she had my permission to wear it, a light dusting, but only in the evening, after most of her chores were done.”

  “Timuary’s can’t wear shell powder. It is against the rules. You can’t give her permission to wear it. Why would you? Think about it, Garran. If she wants to wear shell powder, it’s because she wants to wear it for you. What happened to your standards?”

  “I have standards—high standards, but they don’t exclude me from being kind to others,” I announced as I wedged my body between Lestra’s and Murelle’s.

  “Oh, so being kind includes spending time conversing with palace maids unnecessarily?” she scoffed. “I’ve been watching you, big brother. You’ve been acting strangely the last few days, distant and distracted. Does Dad know you failed your last intergalactic biology test?”

  “Jump in a black hole,” I said, instead of using the profane word I had ready.

  “Don’t think I won’t find out what’s going on with the two of you, because I will. Your position as ambassador isn’t a certainty like you think. One mistake and that commission will go to me,” she threatened, stepping backward toward the door without losing eye contact. “And you”—Murelle pointed at Lestra—“you better watch yourself. One more incident like that, and you’ll be off this planet.”

  When the door separated from its frame, Murelle walked through it slowly, continuing to stare at me through narrowed eye plates. I didn’t breathe until she disappeared and the door resealed, pulling back into its frame.

  “Do you really think she’s been watching us? Do you think she knows we’ve been going to the lab?” asked Lestra
, rubbing her forearm.

  “No, she’s just doing something she’s good at—being a bitch. She doesn’t scare me, and her threats are certainly not going to stop me from seeing America. Just forget about her.”

  Lestra set her hand on my shoulder. “Garran, thank you, um, for you know, taking the blame for the missing shell powder.” Her shell lips puckered. “I won’t wear it anymore. It just makes me feel pretty, that’s all.”

  “Like I told you before, Lestra, you don’t need shell powder to look pretty.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Was that “leading her on” again?

  “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier about letting the human die. What you want to do—save it—that’s a noble thing, I guess. I’d hope you’d want to be there for me if someone was going to hurt me.”

  “Of course I would, Lestra. I told you, you’re my best friend.”

  She smiled and stepped closer. “And you’re mine,” she said, her lips parting slightly. “Do you know what I want?” With another step, she brought her face inches away. “A first kiss from someone I care about. I don’t want it to come from the man appointed to be my husband.”

  Like me, since the day she was born, Lestra spent her days and nights surrounded by relatives. The chance of her, or even me for that matter, kissing someone other than a future spouse was more than limited.

  “What about you?” With her index finger, she traced a curvy line of embroidery on my tunic at my chest.

  “Like you, I am waiting for my first kiss,” I told her, though I just had my first kiss, and in my mind, had already relived the feel of my Enestian lips upon America’s more than a dozen times. “How long that will be? I’m not sure. But that first kiss cannot come from a Timuary.” I gently pulled her finger from my tunic, and her hand slipped from mine.