by Brandon Hill
I stepped inside, and then took a step back, startled at the being I had just now noticed was seated at the chair at the head of the table. His high, stretched cranium and large, black eyes were unmistakable.
“A Vlissian!” I whispered, almost reverently. I’d read about them, and seen them from time to time in news reports, but never in real life. They showed up on rare occasions in the Colonies and were said to be friendly, but they were even more secretive than Felyans. As far as I knew, none had visited Zynj since the days before the Imperium Wars.
The Vlissian’s head turned slightly my way, and what looked like a smile appeared upon his tiny, thin mouth, flexing the muscles ever so slightly upon his equally thin face.
“Surprised to see one on my ship?” Agura asked as he sat at the opposite end of the desk. Gar and Sara dutifully took their positions beside the door, removing vicious-looking pikes that hung suspended in alcoves on either side as Sar’vana seated me between her father and the Vlissian.
“I’m surprised to see one at all,” I said, unable to look away from the Vlissian’s piercing gaze. If he was offended at my staring, he showed no signs of it; in fact, his large, unfathomable eyes seemed to be transfixed upon mine. It was a disturbing sight, and set me ill at ease. “Who…” I tried to look at Agura, but my eyes kept wandering back towards the Vlissian.
“I’m sure you and ambassador Shezmi will have plenty to discuss later on,” Agura said with confident ease. “For now, I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.” He tapped twice upon the table’s clear surface, and it came alive with readouts and schematics, the same as the panels in the infirmary. A grid of symbols appeared in front of the director, and he typed something out. Instantly, the lights dimmed, and an image of three human faces appeared in monochrome blue and gray. I recognized them in a chilling instant.
“You were attacked by these three men, were you not?” Agura gestured towards the hologram, and I nodded.
“And you said that they were trafficking in Felyan slaves?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?” Agura asked. There was no accusation in his tone, but he sounded very serious.
“They admitted it,” I said, “well, indirectly, at least. I begged them to not kill me, and promised them my silence about the brothel, and they didn’t deny what I said. In fact, they told me that dead men tell no tales.”
“How did you learn about this brothel?” Agura said. He spoke without suspicion, and Sar’vana’s eyes, when I glanced at her, betrayed no jealousy or distrust. This went a long way towards soothing the irrational feeling of guilt that niggled the back of my conscience.
“My friend Chester thought I’d be … lonely … after Vani would have to leave,” I explained, “so he brought me there, to the brothel. He didn’t tell me where we were going, so I didn’t know about it until we got there. I saw them with my own eyes. They were collared like normal slaves and drugged with riss.”
“What did you do afterwards?” Agura asked.
“Well, the second I saw it, I panicked and ran. When I got home, I intended to contact the ship … to tell you, but I was distracted. Keisha, an old girlfriend from before Vani, had come back, and was … well, overzealous.”
“Overzealous?” Agura pronounced the word slowly and deliberately.
“It’s a little embarrassing … in present company,” I said, glancing at Sar’vana, who smiled sympathetically.
“Humor me.”
“She was all over me like black on night,” I said, and felt myself grow hot.
“So did you and this Keisha …?”
“No!” I said with an explosive vehemence that had even Agura flinching. Quickly, however, I settled down. “No, Agura. I rejected her. She and I had been ... well, I guess you could say together, before Sar’vana. But I put that aside; she hadn’t. She was at first confused until she found out about Sar’vana and me.”
I explained the rest of the events, then pointed to the image. “And that’s when these guys came to fill me full of holes. Sar’vana came in at the nick of time.”
“You’re very lucky we found you when we did,” Agura said. “Vani was quite upset when you didn’t arrive when her letter said. She went to look for you, but then came back to the ship in a right panic, telling me that the police were around your home, turning it upside down. And so we set to work to find you with the help of the main ship. We tried to be discreet at first; we looked through computer records, but for the first couple of hours, found nothing current. Then we caught the police report the moment it was logged into the system. After that, it was a matter of doing several scans of your DNA … which Sar’vana had on her in abundance. We found you at last when we detected the silencer on the door in a hospital not far from the police station. It was the silencer that gave it away. Tools like that aren’t supposed to exist on Zynj. Vani took a chance on that.”
“Wait, you can scan our computers?” I said, not hiding my surprise and disconcertment.
“Who do you think provided some of their parts?” Agura said. “We improved their networking capabilities and speed, but we added a few subtle backdoor programs in the process, just in case we needed to keep tabs on any goings-on involving misuse of our technology.”
“That’s very intrusive,” I said, feeling quite disturbed over Agura’s candidness.
“With all due respect,” Agura said, his voice low, and almost stern, “many humans have proved to not be the most trustworthy of beings, especially those in high places ... and especially on Zynj. And so, it is a matter of protecting our security that we did this. The programs are only used in matters of possible misuse of our technology, or in dire emergencies. And to us, a woman in love trying to find her li-ah, who has gone unexpectedly missing, certainly qualifies as an emergency.”
“Well, when you put it that way …” I said in an uncertain tone, though I was still wrestling somewhat with my feelings about this, and doubtless would for awhile. “All that aside, I’m glad that Vani took that risk.” I smiled with gratitude and heartfelt love, at Sar’vana, towards whom my feelings were completely certain. I ran my fingers through her fur and I heard the faintest purr escape her throat: a sound that she quickly suppressed. “I owe her my life.”
Just then, a shrill chirp broke the room’s relative silence. Agura looked down onto the table, and typed out something on the symbol grid. Instantly, the image of the dead men’s faces changed into writing. The symbols were too tiny for me to read, but I surmised that whatever they said, it could not be good, as Agura’s expression became increasingly troubled.
“We discreetly transported the bodies to the ship,” Agura informed me, touching an icon that shut off the image. We’ve been investigating them since Vani gave us the news, and we’ve found out that these would-be assailants were not natives of Zynj. Somehow, they hacked the citizenry database and forged papers for themselves about ten years ago, during a shipment of fresh slaves. In fact, they’re not Zadians either.” His eyes narrowed as he read further, his finger tracing the flow of the floating letters. “ It seems their genome matches that of the Raneys.”
“Who are they?” I asked.
“I’m not surprised you don’t know about them,” Agura said. “Pirate politics are complex affairs. You see, most pirates consider themselves expert treasure hunters, or champions of the poor, and rob only rich cargo freighters from time to time, and only take what they need with as little bloodshed as possible. But some of the less scrupulous guilds attack less important vessels, with no regard for whom they kill, and deal with the underbelly of your Colonies: illegal drugs, data theft, unsolicited prostitution, and such. The Raneys are one of those clans. They tried this stunt of kidnapping our kind for slaves to sell to Zade years ago, but we thought we’d put a stop to it. From what you’re saying, it looks like we didn’t teach them a thorough enough lesson, and they’ve established a base of operations here.” His smile turned hungry, almost shark-like. “And you, Jules, h
ave inadvertently ferreted them out.”
“So what do we do now?” I said.
“I will go to the bridge,” Agura replied, clearly emphasizing my lack of further involvement. “I’ll need to relay our findings to the Captain of the main ship in orbit. After that, it should only be a matter of locating these slaves, and then speaking with the Elders about this …” A soft, but no less threatening growl rumbled from his depths, “… this breach of trust.”
“You think the Elders knew about this?” I asked, fearful at what this might entail.
“That’s what I aim to find out,” Agura said, and stood up. “For now, Vani must come with me. As a future director, she needs to learn these proceedings. Come, Vani.”
“We’ll have time to ourselves soon, li-ah. I promise,” Sar’vana whispered to me as she stood. “There’s something I must tell you later.” There was an excited smile upon her muzzle as she kissed and nuzzled my cheek.
“I have something to tell you as well,” I said, and returned her affections in kind before she went to join her father.
It was then that I realized that they were leaving me alone. With alarm, I stood and caught up to Agura and Sar’vana before they could step onto the elevator platform. “Wait, what about me?” I asked. “You’re just going to leave me here?”
“We shan’t be long,” Agura assured me. “Besides, this is a matter of interplanetary relations, Jules. If it isn’t resolved soon, I doubt we’ll be going anywhere for awhile.” He gestured towards the Vlissian, who had not, it seemed, moved an inch since I last looked at him. “And Shezmi has much to speak with you about.”
10
I had almost forgotten about the ambassador, and whirled about quickly as Sar’vana, her father, and the two guards made their respective exits. At once, I was consumed by a wave of inexplicable fright at the presence of the odd-looking Vlissian. Perhaps it was because he sat so still that I thought at first that he wasn’t alive, and it was just some elaborate, eerily lifelike statue that I was left with. But now, I was alone with him … alone with a very much alive Vlissian, a race that humanity knew next to nothing about.
Please, come sit down, said a voice, which caused me to give a terrible start. I whirled to the left and right. The voice had sounded like it was right beside me, but there was no one.
Don’t be afraid. The voice was gentle, and androgynous. I turned from side to side, attempting in vain to determine its source. Was someone speaking through hidden speakers? Was it some strange Felyan sound system that was beyond my understanding? I knew that a great deal of their technology was much more advanced than anything in the Colonies, but this was the most unsettling bit of it I had ever experienced.
It’s not Felyan technology, the voice said.
I spun around and faced the Vlissian, consternation momentarily replacing my fear. “Are you reading my thoughts?” I said, feeling utterly stupid for having vented my anger at nothing.
Yes. I am.
I think I was on the verge of hyperventilating with full-blown terror. “Who are you?” I nearly screamed.
It’s me. Ambassador Shezmi.
I froze for several seconds, hearing my heart pound and the blood rush through my temples as my fear flaked away, replacing itself with dumb surprise. I turned slowly to face the ambassador. He was still there, still looking my way, still eerily motionless as a painting, with that enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his tiny mouth.
“You’re talking to me?” I said.
It’s not quite what you expected, I know, the ambassador said. As you speak with your lips, we speak with our thoughts. For some reason, your kind expects a large booming voice, or a whisper. Not something like this. It’s very disconcerting.
“Yeah ... you got that right.” I was still panting, and still very much shaken at the Vlissian’s mind-speech. “I’m sure you scared the crap out of some folks.”
Some literally, the ambassador said. His words were followed by a warble of amused laughter.
“Look, this is really freaking me out,” I said, moving with trepidation back towards the table. The Vlissian’s skin was very pale, almost translucent, and strands of hair as black as his eyes fell from the back end of his elongated head. “Can’t you just … you know, talk to me?”
He shook his head: the first non-subtle movement I’d seen from him since I entered the room.
I’m afraid I don’t possess the structures you have for speech, the ambassador said. My mouth is only for eating and breathing. He gestured peacefully with two sets of four-fingered hands that appeared from beneath his dark gray robes. You will get used to this method of communication, I promise. You are not the first human I have spoken to. Please. Sit down.
His tone, despite the disembodied voice, was actually quite gentle and kind, and I was certain that my unreasonable displays of fear were bordering on rude. So I mastered myself despite my nagging feelings of unease, and made myself sit at the chair he indicated.
I won’t eat you, the ambassador promised with another amused chuckle.
“I know,” I said, and found myself laughing as well, if only faintly. “It’s just that this is very weird.”
Weird? The ambassador drawled, as if tasting the word. An interesting choice of words. It hasn’t been a normal month for you, has it?
“No,” I said, his words sending my mind back in time through the events that had happened since I saw the Felyan ship landing. “You’re right. It hasn’t.”
And yours has been a case that is not exactly ‘normal,’ as your people see it, when it comes to relationships, has it not?
I frowned. “No. It hasn’t been.”
Had you always loved lady Sar’vana? He asked.
“I … I think I have,” I admitted, vocalizing what lay in my deepest heart to someone other than Sar’vana, or another Felyan for the first time. “I never did understand what kept me coming back to her when I was a kid. We just sort of, well, got along. And I never was upset when the other kids teased me for being friends with a girl, much less a Felyan.” My thoughts echoed with the memories of my other male friends shouting that taunting little rhyme, “Vani and Julius sitting in a tree…”
What an odd way to berate someone, the ambassador said in a curious tone. I frowned, coming to the very likely and very irritating conclusion that my mind was perhaps an open book to him.
“Can you not look into my thoughts?” I asked.
I can only see what you bring to the surface, the ambassador said. And I’m afraid that the mere mention of lady Sar’vana brings about a great deal of thoughts and memories, many you probably would be loath to share. But as you are human, you lack the training and discipline to control or shield your thoughts. Nevertheless, I promise that I will not embarrass you with things that you would rather not be said.
“I guess I’ll have to accept that,” I said grudgingly.
But I believe we have digressed. I asked about your love for the lady Sar’vana because I knew you did not understand it. I sensed your confusion and apprehension from the moment you materialized on this ship. Not all of it was because of your near brush with death, or even suddenly finding yourself in the company of so many Felyans.
“But I’ve been perfectly content with my relationship with Vani for nearly two weeks now,” I said. “And I’ve never been more certain of how I feel about her.”
But have you been certain about why you feel that way? The Ambassador asked.
“No,” I said, as I began to grasp the meaning behind the ambassador’s words.
There have been … things … that have happened to you during this month, haven’t there? There was a pause, and then the ambassador spoke with a greater amount of caution in his tone. This may embarrass you, so I apologize in advance. But lady Sar’vana was not the only female you had been intimate with this month, am I right?
I groaned inwardly, even though I understood on an intellectual level that he was trying to make a point of some kind. I’d figured
long ago that there must have been some link between Vani and that burn that had tormented me in the weeks leading up to our confession of love and the giving into it. “No. There was Keisha … but that was nothing. I didn’t know what came over me. And I gave her the wrong idea because of it.” For the first time, I began to feel sorry for Keisha, despite how things so dramatically fell apart between us.
I know what came over you, the ambassador said.
I don’t know why I didn’t believe him, but my skepticism came through quite clearly in my question. “What then?” I asked in a very suspicious tone.
Sar’vana did, the ambassador replied, and not waiting for me to refute or question him, continued. You’re familiar with how humans react to particularly An’kya Felyans? How they seem to fall desperately in love with, or at least feel strongly attracted to those of the opposite sex?
“Yeah. It’s because of their pheromones. Everybody knows that,” I said.
Re’kya Felyans produce them too.
“They … what?” I asked.
Allow me to be more specific. Some Re’kya Felyans, not all, mind you, produce the same pheromones that An’kya Felyans do. And because of this, some will be more attractive to humans than the rest.
“You’re saying that it’s not the case with all of that kya?” I remarked.
Correct. Another smile curved the ambassador’s lips. But it’s rare, similar to instances of identical twins among humans. There are few others like Sar’vana among her kya. And even those who do have this gift rarely win over any humans. Your people are notoriously stubborn and xenophobic. Few enough give in to the wiles of An’kya Felyans, and-
“...and most would never mate with a Re’kya Felyan,” I said, completing his sentence. I betrayed a slight smirk. “You’re not the only one who can read minds.”
True, the ambassador said with another hint of amusement, but I’m obviously the better one at it.
Even I had to laugh at this. I surmised that my initial unease around the ambassador came from how few people had seen Vlissians and experienced their mental communication, but I found the ambassador to be surprisingly affable, if a bit aloof. “So you’re saying that my attraction to her was purely chemical?”