by Calista Skye
Those are Xan'tor's shorts, stretched tight around its hips.
That's the same kind of visor I'm wearing, except it hangs wrong on the creature's much larger head.
What was it he said? 'I might be different. Don't be alarmed.'
This is Xan'tor. Definitely. And he is very different.
He is also a darker blue, almost indigo. The white spots are gone.
A paralyzing coldness spreads in me.
'The defenders in the first wave were extremely brave.'
“No,” I whisper in a throat that is suddenly sore. “Not that.”
'I've been known to command armies.'
My hand balls into a fist. “No, no, no… not you. Not you!”
I bang it on his chest, uselessly.
Xan'tor looks behind us, stops, and lets me down.
Then he changes in a fluid motion that could probably give me nightmares for years. But I can't really see it clearly. My eyes are full of acid tears.
Xan'tor stands in front of me.
I back away from him, horrified. “No, no, no…”
“Mila? What is it?”
“No, it can't be you… it can't!”
He comes closer. “Can't be what?”
“You… the invasion of Earth. I saw you. It was you. Tell me it wasn't you!”
He stands there, massive arms hanging down his sides.
“Tell me it wasn't you!” An anguished scream.
His eyes are not as brightly yellow as usual. “I was going to let you know. But I never found the right time.”
“You led the invasion of Earth!”
“Things have changed, Mila. And we have no time for this. Come!” He holds out one blue hand.
I back off. My mind is a cold mist and the world has gone all gray. “Stay away from me!”
He glances over his shoulder. Red frames are coming closer fast. “We can talk about this later, and you can make any decision you want. Come!”
I keep backing away. “You killed Evan!”
“Warriors die in war. If he was in the first wave, he died with honor and bravery.” He takes two steps closer.
“Stay away!” I aim the taser at him and press the button. Blue lightning connects it with Xan'tor's bare chest.
He jerks, going down on one knee, struggling to stay up. “We have to leave!” he croaks. “Frox is overhead, only waiting for our signal!”
I take three more steps backwards, keeping the taser aimed at him.
He unsteadily gets back on his feet, still twitching. “Mila, my love. Don't go.”
“Not you, Xan'tor. Not you!” It turns into a sob.
But nothing he can say will make any difference.
I turn and run blindly into the darkness.
29
- Xan'tor -
“Mila,” I try to yell. She gave me a hard electric shock and my muscles won't let me control them properly, so it ends up as only a muffled croak.
She disappears into the distance, a small, green frame soon lost in grayness.
Running from me.
I stand there on shaking knees, smelling burned flesh from where her lightning hit me. I absentmindedly wave the smoke away and look behind me.
Many red frames are coming closer, but not fast. The fresks saw me kill and maim at least ten of them with my bare hands. I was in my Combat form, so this ordinary form must confuse them. They are not very intelligent, just strong and murderous.
Even so, they will not be fooled for much longer. And I can't Change forms now that I can't even walk right.
I key for Frox to land, and when the ship comes down far enough for me to climb in, the closest fresk is almost able to jump in after me. I punch it right on the snout and close the hatch.
Collapsing on the floor, I don't know if it's the paralyzing electric shock or the intense feeling of loss that has sapped all the force from me.
“Mila…”
'I would do anything to free Earth.'
Yes, of course she would. And of course she could never stay with me, the invader of her home world.
Frox comes down from the control room. “Where is Mila?”
“She ran,” I mutter into the deck.
“Where is she?!”
It's the first time I hear Frox yell.
“She ran,” I repeat more clearly. “From me. I was in Combat form. She… understood. About the invasion.”
“You still hadn't told her?!”
“I knew she would leave the moment she knew. I knew it from the beginning, but I hoped that maybe… no. I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving. It was hopeless. She loves her planet. She was shocked.” I'm rambling, but my mind is churning wildly.
“You are an absolute idiot. She would have come around! You just needed to tell her properly, give her some time to process it. Or at least let her make a rational choice. This was the worst way it could happen!”
I manage to get into a sitting position on the deck. “She would not have come around. She's a warrior. She has a duty to her people.”
Frox rolls towards the elevator plate. “We'll try to find her. She's in her invisibility suit still?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck. That will make it hard. If she gets in among those houses all around here, we won't find her.” He disappears up to the control room.
I lay still for a good while. Then I activate the couch and sit down heavily, staring at the piece of art Mila thought was furniture.
It would never have worked, anyway. The moment I invaded her planet, I made it impossible for us to be together. She only spent the past few weeks with me because she had no idea of who I really was. It was all doomed years before it had started.
The dishonor of misleading her for so long stings me more than the stun gun she shot me with.
Well, I deserve it.
After a while, Frox comes down again. “Nope, she's gone. She knows this area. It's her home turf. If she doesn't want to be found, we won't find her. Not in darkness and her in that suit, anyway.”
“It would never have worked,” I say lamely.
“Maybe not. But you could have let her make her decision calmly. She's a rational being. Well, what's done is done. And I suppose now there's nothing between us and that new mission. No complications.”
My mouth says something, but I don't know what it is. My mind is empty of sense and full of gray fog.
Yes, this makes it easier for me to fulfil my duty to my clan. But I would rather have it the other way.
'Tell me it wasn't you!'
It's like a barb in my soul, making me wince.
There was never a chance she would stay with me.
30
- Mila -
I run for a good while, both to get away from the fresks and from Xan'tor.
And because I know that as soon as I stop and catch my breath, the full extent of the disaster will overwhelm me. I can feel it building up.
I'm all numb. The shock of realizing that Xan'tor was the blue monster on the shaky television images from the battle has broken something in me.
How could I be so stupid? The signs were all there. The large shape I thought he had turned into when he beat off all the baron's lackeys back at the station. All the weapons in the base. His ripped pants because his legs had been much thicker.
Okay, I couldn't have any idea that he was a shapeshifter. Sure, the thought vaguely crossed my mind when I thought he looked larger during the fight with the baron's guys. And I'm not new to sci-fi movies. I mean, I know about the Hulk. But a real shifter? It was too outlandish. Until I saw it happen.
The emotions are welling up in me again, and my throat starts constricting. No, not now. I have to get to safety.
The wilderness ends and gives way to an old residential area, long abandoned because nobody wants to live within ten miles of an alien base. The houses have gone into disrepair, their windows boarded up and their driveways full of wind-borne trash, leaves, and all kinds of debris.
I jog along the sidewalk, passing several before I spot the one the Resistance group had designated as the meeting point after the burglary where Emma and I got caught. The garage is open, as arranged by the others in the group. There is no car, but it's dark and the door that leads into the safe house has already had its lock picked and left unlocked for Emma and me to use.
I tiptoe inside, not feeling the eeriness of being inside someone else's house without being invited. Other emotions are first in line, and they're huge.
I walk up the stairs in the dark, the musty smell of abandoned home filling my nose. With stiff fingers I follow the procedure that we had agreed on, pulling open the right-side curtains in the window in the middle bedroom. There's hardly any chance anyone from the group will go past and see it this long after the break-in. But I'm a Resistance fighter, and I will do things correctly, just in case. That's all I have now.
Someone's bed sheets are still here, messy and hastily left behind. Unicorn posters on the wall, various pink and purple toys strewn all over the floor. Yep, this family left quickly.
I go back down to the living room. The largest pieces of furniture are still here, like the couch and a nice armchair in what has once been someone's reading nook.
I toss some couch cushions into a corner and finally sit down with my back to the wall.
The first sob forces its way up before I can even lean back.
Why did it have to be him?
- - -
I don't know if I manage to sleep, but when the sun shines in between the planks outside the windows I straighten from my curled-up position in the corner.
I trundle into the bathroom. The flush works, but there's no water in the taps.
My stomach growls, and I should eat something. But even so, I've never been less hungry.
Still, I walk into the smelly kitchen and retrieve the old MRE packs the guys hid here, just in case.
I find them in the designated place. Veggie burger in BBQ sauce. Chicken Fajita Tortilla. Meatballs in Marinara Sauce. Chicken Chunks. None of it has any appeal. And I should ration it all. I don't know how long I have to stay here.
I walk into the living room and immediately drop all the packs when I see someone sitting in the armchair.
“Fuck!”
“Not right now,” Crirux says and smiles with the most perfect teeth. “I only came to offer my sympathies. And one more thing that you might need.”
I pick the packs back up and toss them onto the coffee table. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. I wondered why you didn't see me the moment you woke up. But I've only been here for a very short while.”
“Okay.” I stroke my hair back from my face, trying to make it look less like a rat's nest. “You know what happened?”
He shrugs. “Xan'tor was a thundercloud when he returned and said nothing. Frox said a lot, though. It never crossed my mind that you hadn't realized who Xan'tor really is.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “He looks nothing like he did during the invasion. He's blue, but when he's a monster he's darker and the spots are gone. We don't really have shifters here on Earth. And it was well over a year ago.”
A sunray plays over Crirux's supernaturally handsome features as he leans back. “Yes, I see how it would be hard to make that connection. But at least you must have known that we are mercenaries that are often hired by the Bululg? Your sworn enemy?”
I sigh. “I asked him, and he downplayed it. I accepted that. I didn't want to think that thought to the end.”
“Because you love him and it might make the whole thing impossible?”
I wince at his words. Oh, just kill me now. “I guess so.”
He nods. “Very well. Like I said, I'm here to offer my sympathies. Which you now have. We all understand your position and we respect it. Xan'tor should have told you the truth. In fairness, I don't think he knew how important it was to you.”
I look away. “I think he did.”
“Perhaps. I suppose we will never know. I have some good news for you, Mila.”
“Okay.” A lonely butterfly takes off in my stomach. A message from Xan'tor? Saying that he's innocent and it wasn't him after all and he can prove it? With witnesses, sworn statements, physical evidence, and everything properly notarized?
“First, my information about your sister was wrong. I apologize for that. In fairness, that source is usually reliable. And most of it is still true. She is alive. And there is an auction just for her. It's just that she was taken up to space one day early. I've had this confirmed by the Bululg themselves. Don't ask me how.”
Not the news I wanted, but not bad. Still, even that can't break through my gloom. There have been so many disappointments lately. “When is the auction?”
“Twenty-seven hours from now, using your hours.”
“I have to rescue her. Will you help me?” It's worth a try.
He smiles apologetically. “Unfortunately, I can't go anywhere near a Bululg station. There was… an incident. Some time back. But I can help you help yourself, so to speak.”
I give him a little smile in return. It's more than I would have expected from any of Xan'tor's friends after this. “Thank you. Can I ask how?”
“You will need transportation. You know how to fly the old two-seater?”
I perk up the slightest amount. “Yeah, Xan'tor showed me. And Frox.”
“I parked it a little distance in that direction.” He points. “This area seems deserted, but I recommend you either move it or just fly away somewhere before it's spotted. It will help you get up to the Bululg station for the rescue.”
“Will they let me dock? Walk around in their station?”
“They will not let any random alien walk around their station, no. But they're not too strict about access to the auction area. Last time you were there, Xan'tor used the privileged entrance because he's not interested in the auctions and the Bululg give him special access to other parts of the station. He is important to them. When you go there, you can't do that. You must use the auction entrance. The more you can look like this, the better.” He hands me a plastic-like chip. “This… hm… individual was invited to the auction, but will not be able to attend. Show it to the guards and they will let you in. Again, making sure you look somewhat like that picture. It was the best I could do. And you wouldn't want to go there looking like yourself, anyway. ”
The card is transparent and shows a short video of a three-legged alien in long, colorful robes and a, tall conical hat like a wizard might wear. The face is green and vaguely humanoid.
“I'll look ridiculous.”
Crirux stands up in one fluid motion and flexes his mechanical hands. “The more laughable you think you look, the better the chance it will fool the Bululg.”
“Can I have some weapons?”
He smiles. “You would find it hard to rescue your sister just by making vague threats. Yes, I have left a weapon in the ship. Just for the record: I recommend against this attempt. You will almost certainly fail. But Xan'tor said you are a warrior and you will do your duty. So I doubt my warning works.”
“You're right about that. Thank you again.” I fiddle with the little card. “Crirux...”
He raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“During the invasion… did Xan'tor kill a lot of the defenders? I mean, himself? It was hard to make out on the video at the time. I could see he was leading it, but…” My voice trails off.
Crirux looks away. “In his Combat form, Xan'tor is different. He becomes unrecognizable. Violent and brutal. He always insists on being in the first line so he can kill as many enemies as possible himself. It gives him some kind of satisfaction. He goes into a frenzy. In the case of Earth, he personally wiped out the entire first wave of defenders. Using his bare hands. Or rather, his hands and feet and teeth and claws and spikes. Ripped them to pieces. Hundreds. All that was left was slivers and bones and blood. I'm sorry.”
I wouldn't have thought that my heart
could sink lower in my chest or that my mood could get any worse. But I guess I was wrong. “I see.”
The tall, furry alien tilts his head to the side. “It was a privilege knowing you, Mila. And who knows, this might not be the last time we meet. I will find my own way off this planet. Good luck.”
He strides out the front door, walks across the lawn, and is gone.
A part of me wants to run after him and beg him to take me back to the base, back to Xan'tor.
But that avenue is closed. Xan'tor's an even worse monster than I thought.
In a way, that makes this easier. I will rescue Emma. We'll hide on Earth or even on the mini-Earth inside Titan. Catch our breath, make a plan.
And if I can't save her… well, then I have my orders.
31
- Xan'tor -
I sit down on the crate at the front, right by the holographic map of the Earth in the middle of the Pyramid. Our preparations are finished, we're about to launch the big mission.
Frox does the presentation. He's good at that, able to hold a lot of information in his mind and explain it to mercenaries of different species. There are forty-five of them here now, all hired by us for the big mission.
“Friends, welcome,” Frox begins. “Xantor has accepted a mission from the Bululg. You have all been hired to assist us in carrying it out. The Bululg pay well for this. We have already signed contracts will each one of you. As you know, the fees we will pay you are unusually high. This will be an unusually hard mission. And unfortunately a brutal one.”
He pauses, one of his eyes glancing at me. Of course we both know that not many of the soldiers for hire in this room care about the brutality. Some of them relish it.
He points to the holographic Earth with one tentacle. “The mission is this: To completely crush the Resistance movement on Earth. The most effective way is as usual to take out their leaders, and so leave the body without a head. This will be done with such obvious brutality that the population of Earth is forever traumatized and too paralyzed to ever rise in protest again. This must be a very visible demonstration of Bululg power. Here are your individual assignments...”