“They hate water,” she pointed out. “How did they work with it?”
Jaw clenching, he muttered, “With slaves. They have been capturing rebels that are still out there.” His head jerked towards the desert. “And forcing them to do the labor.”
Fingers curling into fists, Aimee could feel heat rise to her cheeks. “What is your goal here?”
Whatever it was, she was in 100%.
A look of conviction hardened him. “I want to build a dam. I want to stop this flow and let it accumulate. The people living inside the crater walls are high enough to remain safe.” He glanced up at the rock terraces. “The banks of this creek can overflow into the valley for now.”
Zak rose, his frame rigid with determination. “Down below, the Korons keep close to the river because they know that is where they will catch any stray rebels. If we were to destroy the dam and release the water all at once, it would flood the Zargoll, taking out all the hideous rock people with it. Maybe we won’t get them all, but from my missions down there, I can tell you that we’ll get most of them.”
Trudging through the knee-high grass, he gazed upon the feeble collection of wood and rock that impeded the creek’s flow with the same deterrence of a meshed net.
“But, as you can see,” he offered her a half-smile, “my engineering skills are lacking when it comes to dams.”
“Bah.” She shot up to join him. “You are capable of whatever you set out to do. You don’t need me.” A sly grin crept over her lips. “But, I like pretending that you do.”
He reached for her and hooked his arm behind her back. Aimee’s breath caught and her heart pounded.
“I need you more than you will ever know.” His head dipped and his lips touched hers. Against them he whispered, “I love you.”
Everything—every insurmountable obstacle to bring her to this point—it was all worth it. No matter what transpired from here on out, this moment brought her peace and clarity.
With tears in her eyes and a grip on her throat, Aimee responded, “I was afraid that so much time had passed—that you moved on—that your feelings would have changed. I would have understood.” And I would have died.
Zak drew back. For a moment he remained silent as her anxiety escalated.
“I possessed similar fears. More than anything, I feared that you would not want a damaged man.”
“Damaged.” She tested out the word.
Anxiety and emotion flashed in his eyes.
Planting her palms against his rock-hard chest for stability, she hefted up on her toes so that she could press her lips to his and whispered, “I love you too.”
Before there was a chance to come back down on her feet, both of Zak’s arms were around her, holding her aloft as he kissed her with a passion that made her head spin.
Damn! Do I love you? Are you kidding me? Yes. Yes. Yes.
Settling her back on the heels of her boots, Zak eased his hold enough that he could look down at her. His lips were curled up into one wicked grin.
“So,” he drawled quietly. “What have I done wrong?”
Blinking, Aimee gulped, “What?”
“The dam. What do you suggest we do?”
I have a few suggestions.
“Well,” her mouth opened and closed like a guppy before she finally concentrated. “We could—”
She had to look away from him. It was impossible to think straight when his gaze was fixed on her mouth.
There sat the dam.
What he had constructed was admirable. The structural dilemma was that it was built to the width of the original creek. That had probably worked for a while, until the reservoir began to build up. As the reservoir grew, it leaked around the perimeters of the dam until the stream adapted and continued its normal flow as if there was nothing more than a stray boulder in its path.
Following the stream, Aimee focused on the cave that it charged through in an effort to reach the outside world. Flashes of sunlight from the other side danced inside the cavern like a Disney laser show.
“If you’re looking for a temporary dam—” she was plotting while she was talking, “—that is where you want to build it. Obstruct that cave wall so that the water can’t get out of the
basin—” she paused. “Do that and you’ll have one helluva lake here. And when you release the plug, the Korons will be doing the backstroke down the Zargoll River.”
Zak stepped up alongside her. “Sometimes I don’t understand your words,” his profile revealed a grin, “but I understand your enthusiasm. And, if doing the backstroke means that those rock barbarians will get wet, then I’m all for it. How do we start?”
Pour the concrete.
“We need some rebar—umm, sturdy posts that we can hammer down into the creek floor.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “We can get that. I don’t know what rebar is, but we have sturdy posts.”
“Great!” Warming up to the idea, she reevaluated Zak’s efforts.
“You had the right idea,” she offered. “But, the problem was that you used too much wood. It is porous and susceptible to the pressure.”
Zak crossed his arms.
Lord help her. He had no shirt on, and those biceps were a sight to behold.
“We didn’t have much material to work with,” he defended. “When I was young, we had stone temples as high as this crater—” He sported a sheepish smirk. “Well, maybe they looked that big to me at the time. Our architects had resources I would kill for right now. My father used to build—”
His words fell off.
Aimee walked up to him and reached for both of his hands. “He’s alive.” She smiled and squeezed. “Hold onto that.”
Blazing eyes clashed with hers. “It’s just that—it’s just—I feel guilty, Aimee.”
“Guilty? For Heaven’s sake, why?”
“I accepted so readily their tale that my parents were killed. I feel like I failed him. That I neglected him. When I first came back to Ziratak all those years ago—when I—”
When he found the sparkling specks of his sister’s dress on the floor of that cellar and scooped them up to forever carry in his terra angel.
“—I should have put in more effort to search—to find answers. What type of son was I?”
Oh Zak. Her heart twisted.
“A son who grew up to be a hero,” she said. “A son who has spent his whole life saving the lives of others. Even now,” she swept her arm towards the creek, “you are battling the demons to save the innocents. No father could be more proud of you.”
“Dammit, woman. Why do you always know the right things to say?” He smiled, but desperation still plucked at the corner of his lip.
“Because I always speak the truth.”
“Always?”
“Absolutely.”
His head dipped. “Then you really do love me?”
Aimee grinned even as she kissed him. “Absolutely,” she whispered.
“Okay.” He kept his forehead to hers. “Then let’s go build a dam.”
Chapter Twelve
“Here! No, no no! Here!” Gordy waved like a host of zurillion bugs swarmed around his head.
Zuttah grunted and dropped the burly rock at the young man’s feet.
“I am not your servant,” his deep voice threatened.
Frustrated, Gordy scratched the back of his head. Kicking the rock, he tried to conceal that the action hurt his foot.
A fur-skinned boot appeared beside his, dwarfing it by several inches. Zuttah exerted very little effort and nudged the rock with his toe towards the shadows of the cave.
“Now, let me ask the person in charge where this goes.”
Ignoring Gordy’s annoyance, Zuttah swung his focus towards Aimee who was thigh-deep in the stream, guiding a petrified trunk into place with the assistance of two rebels who had climbed down from the terraces above to assist.
Zak surveyed the entire scene with a keen eye. Behind the crater wall, the suns began to collapse an
d his sight improved with each crack of rock against wood. He watched Aimee, busily directing everyone. Damp from splashed water, her hair looked darker, but her eyes were bright—with a zest for the task at hand. Water licked her long legs, and it was hard to pull his gaze away from them. A cursory glance at the mountain-men confirmed that he was the only one staring in such a blatant fashion. Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the limb he was stripping with a stone-carved axe. In the background he listened to her litany and kept his head ducked to conceal his amusement.
“You know,” she spoke aloud to men who understood only pieces of what she was saying, “when a beaver builds a dam, nothing will stop him from finishing it. Would you believe that beavers have even used beaver traps to construct their dams?” A snort snuck out of her nose. “How is that for irony?”
When no one answered, or even chuckled, she continued. “Did you know that beavers build dams to raise the water level so that they can swim to tree limbs that they normally can’t reach? Crafty little buggers, those beavers are.”
She might as well have been communicating with a bunch of deaf mutes. The men continued their efforts, but they understood enough of her words to obey her orders. Seeing this, she morphed back into an engineer.
“We need to account for the speed of the water and the width at which it will hit the cave. We want the wall to be an arc rather than just slap some boards against this hole. We’ll use everything we can get our hands on. This petrified wood is awesome. It’s not porous, and it will be a sturdy foundation for everything we’ll pile up against it. Rocks, mud, grass, leaves—”
“Zull dung?” Zuttah offered.
This time Zak could not conceal the quiver of his shoulders as he laughed. The fallout was immediate.
“Zull dung in fact would work wonderfully,” there was a bite to Aimee’s tone, “if you can find an abundance of it. And, when I say abundance, I mean enough to ply every minute gap in the wall.”
“You find that much every time Zuttah talks,” Zak offered.
In return he suffered the big man’s threatening frown. “Well, look who crawled out of the cave and developed a sense of humor,” Zuttah chortled. “You and your newfound mirth can go collect the dung from the valley.”A flash of white teeth emerged behind the heavy beard.
Zak just smirked in return. There was no way he was leaving Aimee alone here.
“I’ll go,” a voice offered.
Startled, Zak turned to see Zon approach. He looked much stronger, with his posture erect, and his chocolate eyes sharp and honed in on Zak as if he expected a denial.
“You need to rest,” Zak warned, still not comfortable with how to communicate with the man. So many years…
Zon cleared his throat and even managed a negligible grin. “For the first time in I don’t know how long, I feel good. I feel strong. I can think straight. Even the prospect of picking up Zull dung sounds exciting because it is something I can do, while comprehending the ultimate goal.”
A smile cracked Zak’s lips. He could relate to that. On some subconscious level, he felt as if he were being watched. Sure enough, Aimee stood in the water, a small rock clutched in her hand. She met his eyes and he understood the message there.
Go with him.
Evidently eager to begin, Zon had already pivoted, his knees cutting through the high grass with newfound agility. Torn, Zak remained rooted in place.
Across the way, Aimee jerked her head in Zon’s direction. Sensing his indecision, she added a convincing smile as if to assure him, I will be fine.
Zull roamed the western pastures. It was an area close enough to reach with a shout. These Zull were an adapted version of the original breed which flourished in the warmth of the desert. Acclimating to the higher altitude when the rebels first guided them here, these Zull had shrunk in bulk, and the fur on their haunches grew thick and lush. And according to one beautiful engineer, their dung was a viable material in dam construction.
Zuttah stepped into his sight. It was only the briefest tip of the head, but Zak recognized the meaning. The brawny Ziratakian would look after her.
Zak mouthed to Aimee, “I’ll be right back.” She just smiled and held her thumb up in the air…whatever that meant.
* * *
“You are feeling better?” Zak inquired as they trudged side by side through the shimmering grass.
The blades undulated in the wind, making it look like a vast ocean.
“Every minute I seem to grow more coherent. I don’t think I was ever hurt or malnourished. I was just too—incapacitated—by my thoughts to recognize the status of my health.” Zon glanced sideways. “And you,” he nodded. “I see the mark of the solar ray on you.”
“I’m fine.” Dark was coming soon. He would be fine.
There was an awkward pause filled with a breeze that whispered tales of the ancient heroes of this land. In the distance, Aimee’s voice continued to dictate, but she undermined her authority with an occasional laugh.
“Did you know about this crater when I was—?”
“When you were young? Yes. I was going to bring you up here one day when you grew old enough to make the climb. I wanted to show you where the monarch lived.”
“You were building me a model terra duster down in the cellar,” Zak winced at the recollection of that dark chamber. “I was so young—I don’t even know your trade.”
Swallowed in the dense shadows of the crater wall, Zon tread carefully. “I was involved in the design of several of our transportation-class vessels, but by trade—I was just a teacher,” he grinned.
“A teacher?” Zak halted.
“Somebody had to instruct our future generation on how to build reliable transport. I worked in a classroom, and when I was through, the students engaged in hands-on training. But I admit—” he looked up to the stars, and Zak saw that his beard climbed down his throat, “—that I missed the hands-on factor. So, your little terra duster was as much a present for myself as it was for you. It was going to be something we could have fun with together.”
In the purple hue of twilight, Zak met his father’s eyes.
Zon spoke quietly. “I had so many aspirations for you. From everything I see and hear around here…you exceeded my expectations. You have become a hero, and a man that commands respect. I could not be more proud.”
Zak cleared his throat. “I just wish I had known—”
So much could have been different had I known.
“When I was faced with the fact that I lost my wife, and then my children—I welcomed the ray of the Koron. Maybe I was reckless on purpose, hoping to draw their fire.”
“And if we had not met here would you have continued down that path?” Zak challenged.
Contemplating this for a moment, Zon nodded. “In the state of madness that I was in, suicide was something I considered, but was not lucid enough to attain. That serum. It brought back my mind.”
To Zak’s surprise, Zon reached out and clasped his shoulder. Hard.
“If I was struck dead today, I would die a happy man knowing that you survived. You have no idea how much it means to see you alive.”
Emotion clogged Zak’s throat.
“But—” he coughed to clear it, “—you will not die today. Instead you will pick up dung.”
For a moment Zon froze, and then he let loose a barking laugh. “I see you have inherited your mother’s sense of humor.”
That thought pleased Zak. “What was her trade? Did she have one? I just remember her smelling like zynther flowers. And she always had food for me. And she always told me to listen to my sister.” At that he rolled his eyes and his father joined in his laughter.
“By trade, your mother was a seamstress. But between you and me, her secret desire was to be an entertainer.”
“An entertainer?” Zak’s eyebrows vaulted. A distant memory of his mother standing in the yard under a canopy of vines with the sun filtering through her lustrous dark hair flashed in his mind. She was
singing, and the melody was so peaceful, he curled up in the grass and fell asleep listening to it.
“Yes,” Zon grinned. “She told me that as a child she wanted to join the Zirithay choir tour, but her parents wouldn’t let her. Instead, she used to perform for me and it was quite—”
Zon cleared his throat. “Well, anyway. She was a talented woman.”
“Zari sang too, but not so good.”
“Hah—no. Your sister didn’t quite have her voice. But your sister was very smart. Like you. We knew you both would excel in whatever you endeavored.”
Their mood grew somber at the mention of Zari. A throaty growl nearby drew their attention. The listless Zull swayed its heavy frame atop spindly legs, as if the limbs were about to collapse under the girth. It was a hump-backed animal with excessive fur on its posterior. Half of its head belonged to its nose, and through those enormous nostrils it snorted its contempt at being disturbed.
“Ack. Hush,” Zak berated. “We will be gone soon.”
Zon was already hunched over, using a stick to scoop a pile of excrement into his pail. Busy with the task at hand, neither spoke, and in that silence the distant sound of voices carried to them. Gordy’s laugh traveled far enough to agitate the Zull as the herd began a collective gait towards the crater wall.
“Who are they?” Zon’s voice was muffled by his stance.
“Who?”
“The strangers in the fancy suits. They aren’t from Ziratak.”
“One is from Anthum, and one is from Earth.”
“Anthum?” Zon looked up. “I thought everyone had fled that planet. I heard they built an elaborate ship to get away from the virus.”
“Yeah. They did.” And it was quite elaborate. “That ship and those survivors are the ones who rescued me from here.”
A crestfallen look possessed the older man. “Which one is from Anthum? I will extend my gratitude...if I could put it into words.”
Hearing Gordy’s guffaw, Zak smiled. “That would be the one laughing right now.”
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