Sirein: A Dystopian World Alien Romance

by S. J. Sanders

  He smiled as he imagined the way his female might react. Perhaps her face would come alive with fascination and pleasure at the beauty of the stone. Very carefully, he set it in a white box carved from the tusks of a great predator from the deep mines of Ahandra Silras, a planet with a few small seas in which they had been able to enjoy a brief respite. The box would make the perfect way to present the gift—should he get the opportunity. At the moment, that possibility appeared to be dim.

  Ger’se reclined against the sturdy table at the far end of the room, his steady gaze following his every movement as he rhythmically fanned his red tail fin and snapped it closed again. His lips were pursed, a mild look of disapproval for what he had stressed over the last few rotations was “a leap of considerable foolishness” to attempt to mate without any information on the chances of success, especially in terms of breeding compatibility.

  Ji’wa had given up trying to convince his friend that he didn’t care about such matters. He only wanted his female. Ger’se in turn had ceased trying to convince him to “see reason.” It at least established a temporary peace between them, despite the enormous strain that he was feeling.

  “I am assuming from your morose behavior that the co-command has denied your request?” his friend asked with a casual wave of his hand.

  Sighing, Ji’wa set the box down and ran a hand through his hair, the base of his palm resting against one horn as he leaned his head back in exasperation.

  “More than that. They have taken the issue to the High Council, who have forbidden me to leave the colony pod for any reason other than dire emergencies pertaining to our people. This was after my attempts to persuade my co-command to allow me independent exploration leave to scout for potential nesting grounds before anyone got their hopes up and took to exploring. They denied it, of course, and immediately contacted the council ‘out of concern.’”

  That was in fact putting it mildly, but he didn’t want to reveal just how angry many of the council members had become at his suggestion that he venture away from the dome at all. It had been an ugly scene, with males and females hissing at him in warning. They had refused to listen at all, cutting him off any time he attempted to offer a reason for his request.

  He snarled and lifted his hands in the air in exasperation. “They refused to accept any reason at all that would allow me to take a leave of absence. I could have done far more good exploring the seascape with my female and looking for an appropriate settlement. It’s as if they’re helpless without the son of Gan’thro at their side.”

  Ger’se snorted with amusement. “Hero worship. I met your father. He was not as grand as everyone seems to make him. In fact, he was a bit of a fulik, always with his head up his…” His friend coughed and grinned unrepentantly. “Anyway, the higher ups are a superstitious lot, placing all their markers for their wager in one cup all because it is ‘good luck.’”

  Ji’wa nodded in agreement, his lips twisting in distaste. “My sire had the benefit of having many heroic tales, lauded many times over due to his negotiations with the outside world. I may have learned much from him and so say that I would serve far better up there than I would here rotting in the same position that he had himself hated. And for what?” He hissed in frustration. “It does not matter. I never should have left her,” he muttered. “I should have faced any and all consequences to remain with her.”

  “I suppose it would not hurt for me to remind you—once again—that it would have been foolish and dangerous,” his friend scoffed.

  “The High Council would have forgotten their anger when I discovered the very place where our species can rise and replenish ourselves. In any case, it is better that than the alternative. I have left her alone for far too long. I feel stretched thin and restless already without her nearby. My only comfort is that she has not yet moved her vessel. But how long will that last? If I remain much longer, I will not secure my mating before she slips too far away, beyond the scope of the short-range tracking device, and I lose her forever!”

  Ger’se squinted at him, his lips thinning as his focused frown pinned him. The male let out a long sigh, his ear fins, which had snapped erect at Ji’wa’s burst of temper, once more tipped back and folded in a relaxed position.

  “Oh, very well,” the male sighed. “If it has come to this, I will take you to someone.”

  “I am not interested in any other females,” Ji’wa protested.

  His friend grinned as he pushed off from the table and strode toward the door, sharp fangs bared in the softened light of the room. “I am not speaking of a female with which to satisfy your urges—although I would not discourage it either. I am speaking of the Record Keeper.”

  Ji’wa frowned after his friend. “The Record Keeper? I am quite certain no such individual exists. Our systems keep all necessary records without error. I have never seen any position title of the sort in our pod records.”

  Ger’se’s smile widened, and he shook his head.

  “It is an incredibly special position, one inherited by birth. Few know of the family, and they like it that way. The Record Keeper especially does not like to be disturbed. I came across her once in my youth when I was exploring the lower levels of the pod and thought to steal a treasure from her nest. She was quite displeased with me and gave me something of a scare, I can tell you. But she’s the only one who may be able to help—although I do not suggest using her assistance unless you have no other recourse. She demands a high cost for her service,” he added with a pained grimace.

  “I still do not understand what it is exactly that she does,” Ji’wa growled impatiently. “You are speaking of her as if she is considerably powerful, but how?”

  His friend hissed in annoyance, but he would just have to bear with him. Nothing of what the male was speaking of was even remotely familiar to him.

  “Because she is the source of our history, lore, ancestral memory, and the keeper of all records and knowledge of our species. You will see. Due to her special station, I think you will understand just what makes her different.”

  Ji’wa scowled but said nothing else as he followed his friend along the long amber hallways that reflected and absorbed the sunlight above. After several turns, he began to note that they were descending into narrow hallways that were less familiar, some of them seeming to be research and survey halls, others little more than maintenance tunnels. The last corridor they entered, however, was lined with one-way windows that looked out over the colony landscape. It was uncomfortably narrow, but the view made him pause.

  Just outside the corridor windows, he could see sirei scratching out the lines for the water orchards and crops that they had brought with them from Sirenx. What were they doing planting crops already? His frown intensified, and a low growl rumbled up from his chest as his fins expanded with anger.

  “We have not even found a nesting ground and they have begun putting down permanent crops? It is a waste of our resources! Who approved this?”

  Ger’se paced back to his side, glanced down at the workers, and grunted. “Co-commander Fal’thi assigned tasks after the morning meetings. I only heard of it because my younger sister was summoned to her agricultural post to oversee their efforts.”

  “Absurd.”

  Ji’wa’s scowl deepened as he watched the frantic activity. A muffled sound of a tail tip sliding against the floor drew his attention to the fact that his friend was already striding away. With a muttered oath, he hurried after him, tail whipping as he ran. He caught up just in time to see Ger’se flash a smile at him over his shoulder.

  “We do not want to draw attention to ourselves by lingering in one spot. They might send someone to investigate our purpose here. The Record Keeper would not like it if we drew attention her way and disturbed her privacy. This way. She nests just through here.”

  At the end of the hall, they ducked into the round entrance of an antechamber. Ji’wa halted in surprise, his eyes wide at the sight of the accumulated treasures surroun
ding him. He had always thought that his collection was superior among others of his kind, but it was nothing like this! The soft lighting in the antechamber rippled like tiny currents over everything as they drew deeper toward the nest’s inner chamber.

  “Who approaches?” a raspy feminine voice asked. There was a rattle of a growl to it, delivering her threat with a great amount of clarity.

  “Ger’se, Al’hana. I have brought with me my friend Ji’wa, son of Gan’thro, Commander of pod Li’lal’fa. He needs your assistance.”

  The growling rattle ebbed, and the soft hiss of an indrawn breath of someone quite aged greeted his ears.

  “Does he now? What brings you to my nest, Commander Ji’wa Me’tilikaran, son of Ganth’thro Me’tilikaran? Surely, you should be celebrating our successful landing with the rest of the Li’lal’fa command.”

  Casting a questioning to look to his friend, Ji’wa stepped toward the dark entrance of the inner chamber, stopping just before it. He lowered his head respectfully despite his apprehension at addressing one whom he could not see.

  “Record Keeper, there is little to celebrate until we have found a secure home with necessary nesting grounds required of our species. We need to rise to the surface, despite the fears of the High Council. Our species is in decline, and I do not think that confining ourselves to our pods and the seas will help us thrive as we should. What’s more, I have discovered a female…”

  “Ahhhhh…” she hissed with a deep amused chuckle. “Among the young, a mate is an ideal reason to set out despite orders. Yes, I already know that the High Council has forbidden you to leave…”

  Ji’wa’s lips pinched together. “How do you know this? Even I only found out moments ago before coming here.”

  “I know everything,” she drawled in a long, slow hiss. “Come closer, young Ji’wa.”

  He jerked his head around to glare at Ger’se. His friend shrugged and thrust his chin in the direction of the inner chamber with an apologetic smile.

  A foreboding tremor ran over his scales, and something crackled and sparked anxiously within him. Still, he stepped forward. He had no choice. The Record Keeper was his last option, since he had exhausted all others save for the most reckless one. Now he wasn’t so sure if this was any better.

  As he stepped through the door, a gentle light turned on, illuminating the room. The electric tingle riding over him snapped as he stumbled backward, the pinkish pulse running over his scales in self-defense.

  The Record Keeper smiled at his reaction, her laughter falling from her even as her white eyes followed him. A number of tubes ran from her head to the walls, connecting her permanently to the pod. In some places, her body even seemed to merge with the mechanics until he could not be certain if she were standing, sitting, or hanging, suspended by the cables and long metal arms. The claws of her feet scraped against the metal they rested on, and he watched as her tail, also connected with numerous lines, lifted in the shadows and stretched out beside her, its pale pink fin opening, demonstrating every venom-tipped spine on it. She extended the membrane and allowed the fins to close flat again.

  “Are you afraid?” she whispered, her eyes glinting as they narrowed with satisfaction.

  Ji’wa swallowed and shook his head. “No. Your appearance is unusual and a bit unsettling, but I am not going to run away.”

  The laughter that burst from her that time was full of amusement, and she lifted one long, dull claw in his direction.

  “Live two hundred revolutions and see how good you look.” She cackled. “But I expect no other response from the son of Gan’thro. You are brave to have come to me, to have stayed, and more so to look at me now without trembling with fear. No, you tremble with something else. The musk practically drips from you. You are anxious to be reunited with your female, I imagine. Enough so to brave anything, it seems.”

  “She is worth it,” he growled.

  Al’hana dipped her head and regarded him curiously.

  “Is she? Do you know her that well? Or is it just because she has primed your malth and your certainty is based on instinct alone that demands that you fulfill your joining?”

  Ji’wa bared his teeth in irritation.

  “Does it matter? Our species has discovered our mates this way for generations. She is mine, and for that reason alone, she is worth everything I have and is all that I want.”

  The Record Keeper nodded thoughtfully.

  “Of course. I did not speak so to dismiss your feelings, but as a warning. Although it is painful now, the need to bond would fade over time. You could go back to your existence as it was and remain mateless but enjoy a long life with your people. But if you go to the surface and initiate the mating bond and she does not return your affection and accept the mating by the setting of the next full moon, your craving for her will never end. You will stop eating and wither away until you are nothing more than bones riding the foam of the sea.”

  A shudder ran through him. It was a terrible possibility.

  “I have to take that chance,” he murmured.

  The lines whipped softly as Al’hana moved, pressure release valves sighing as she slowly lowered before him. One weathered hand reached out and caressed his jaw.

  “I understand. I will help you. But to do this for you, it will require sacrifice. I will need your genetic code to fool the system and gain access to your files. When I do, I can fool the system, reporting that you are on the ship, but they will never be able to track you down nor be able to determine that you are not here. This will buy you some time, perhaps even the entirety of the moon cycle if we are fortunate, if they are as unobservant as they appear to be.”

  Ji’wa swallowed. “What do I need to sacrifice?”

  “It may cost you your standing. You must be willing to give up everything in order to secure the path and prove yourself. Your second central horn, that which is your prime horn, contains specific genetic samples carried down through your paternal family line that marked you for the potential to be in command since birth, as it did your father. I will need to remove the horn.”

  “Ji’wa, I do not know if you should do this,” Ger’se said as he approached. “Your horn permits you access that you will no longer have. If things do not go right with the female, you could be cast out from command, or worse.”

  Ji’wa smiled and placed his hand on the other male’s shoulder. “You are a good friend, but I must do this.”

  “Very well,” Al’hana rasped as he turned to face her. Several metal claws extended around her, reaching for him. They curled around him, one going to the second horn that jutted from the center of his brow, just between the two large horns that grew at either side of his head. The hand gripped hard, the pressure indescribable as agony seared through him.

  “This may hurt,” the female hissed as bone snapped and flesh tore.

  Darkness filled his vision as he lost consciousness.

  “Take him to the medic, and once he is mended, accompany him to the surface. You brought him to me. You will see this through,” Al’hana snarled.

  Ger’se’s murmur of ascent was the last thing Ji’wa heard.

  Chapter 10

  Nerida frowned as she leaned against the railing of her boat and stared at the water lapping at the little island’s beach. It had been four days by her reckoning since the dathli attacked. Well, since she woke, anyway. Four days since she dared to leave her boat alone.

  Shamed filled her. Faced with her first predator and she had panicked. Worse, it hadn’t even been an adult, and yet she still froze. By the time she had managed to move, she ran without any sense in her attempt at escape. It was hardly surprising that it had snared her. She doubted even the gods of the next world would have been entirely sympathetic as to how she met her demise.

  It didn’t escape her attention that she should have died. So how did she wake up in her cabin without a scratch? How had she managed to escape?

  She had vague memories of a savior who shone as brightl
y as the light of Anaya at the moon’s fullest height. It could’ve been the product of a fever dream. Still, she stayed inside with her rations of smoked fish and a cooling unit stuffed full of varil crab claws, peering down at the shore. She needed to leave, but some part of her hoped that her rescuer would return. So far, Nerida had been disappointed every day.

  For days, she had felt as if eyes were watching her every time she stepped out onto the deck. It was a bit nerve-racking not knowing who or what was watching her. Outside of her run-in with the dathli, her time in the Greater Sea had been rather uneventful.

  Most of the monsters had been curiously absent, as were the pirates said to roam the waters. She supposed her luck would have turned eventually with the change of seasons. No doubt the juvenile dathli was driven further out in its hunt as it ventured away from its nest.

  She just never thought, in all her mental planning, that she would be caught so completely unaware. And now she was waiting around, hoping to catch a glimpse again of whoever rescued her?

  She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps it was just time to go. Although the weather had remained pleasant, she knew that she was pushing her luck lingering there rather than continuing south. She couldn’t fail so completely at this freedom thing by not finding some kind of suitable shelter. Worst case scenario, she could take the boat to the southern trade seas. Her family pod never ventured to the southern territories, so if she needed to hole up in one of the cities for the winter, it would be safer than sailing in the middle of the seas alone.

  “Ahoy there!” a voice shouted, dragging her from her ruminations.

  Her gaze snapped up to catch sight of a weathered boat pulling out from behind the higher rocky rise of the island. Her breath wheezed out of her in alarm. How long had it been there?

  For a moment, she might have entertained the idea that perhaps this was the source of her rescue, but she didn’t think that someone who went through the trouble to help her would have lingered, watching from behind the other side of the island where she was unaware of their presence. Nor would they stare at her like a hungry shardon ready to snap at her the moment she came within reach.