by Luna Voss
I hear the Kyrzons start to argue about the seating arrangements. There are four Kyrzons, four tusk-oxen, and six women, which, which means that two of the aliens are going to have to double up and take two of us in their saddles. Clearly, none of them are thrilled by that possibility. I stay frozen on my tusk-ox, worried that any little movement will cause me to slide off and land on my head.
The animal shakes as a Kyrzon climbs onto the saddle behind me. I feel his warmth as he reaches around me to take the reins, his enormous body enveloping me, making me feel very small.
And then we start to ride.
Chapter Three
Hours later, we’re still riding.
And I’m still blindfolded.
It’s hard to mark the passage of time. How long has it been? One hour? Two? Five? I have no idea where I am, or where we’re going. I can’t even talk to Barbara or Sam, as apparently I’m one of the lucky females who gets to ride with one of the Kyrzons alone.
I hope they’re okay.
I know they’re riding with me, at least. I can hear the hooves of their tusk-oxen all around me. Wherever we’re going, we’re going as a group.
Our Kyrzon captors don’t talk much. Just occasional instructions to each other as they ride. I get the impression that this whole kidnap operation was planned out, at least to some degree. The more I think about it, the more it becomes obvious that they were following some kind of plan.
I feel sick to my stomach as I think about the foreman with the ax in his head, and the male workers who got dragged off into the woods. I get the very strong impression that they’re already dead. I didn’t know any of them well, but that doesn’t make it any less horrifying. They were slaughtered in cold blood.
If there’s one thing I’ll say for myself, I think I do a good job of keeping my head together in stressful situations. That’s why right now, instead of panicking, I’m calculating, trying to figure out what my best option is.
Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure my best option is to do nothing. That’s not because it’s a good option, but simply because I literally do not have a better one. For one, I’m blindfolded and my hands are tied together. Unless I can find a way to free my hands, any escape attempt will be more or less futile. The bigger issue, though, is one that I can’t escape: we’re in the middle of Kyrzon Territory. Even if our captors decided to untie us and set us free right here and now, we would be completely fucked. Six human women would never make it back to the border of Human Territory in time. And even then, we’d be in tremendous danger.
Right now, any attempt to escape is basically just agreeing to become some animal’s lunch.
So instead of escape attempts, I do my best to try to imagine how this circumstance could possibly have come to be. How is it possible that a band of Kyrzons would violate the pact that has united our peoples for centuries? It is not just humans who enforce these laws, but Kyrzons too. Every member of the alien race knows that their species relies on the women that Human Territory provides. Human Territory is sacrosanct. To even bring a weapon over the border, much less a raiding party, would be to invite the vengeance of every clan in the region.
So whoever these Kyrzons are, I see there as being two basic options: first, that they’re some kind of band of Kyrzons outlaws, not subject to the rule of the clans. I have no idea if groups of Kyrzons like that exist, but if they did, kidnapping human women seems like the kind of thing they might do. At the same time, they would be taking on such an enormous risk by doing so that it’s hard for me to imagine.
Which leads me to the second option: that they’re doing this with the approval of someone powerful. They either they belong to, or are allied with, a clan that could protect them from any possible repercussions.
I don’t know which option is scarier.
Either way, it seems that my time as a Kyrzon Bride has started early.
* * *
We keep riding. From the lack of sunlight coming in through the black bag I have over my head, I assume that it’s night. That makes sense. It was getting close to dark when the Kyrzons kidnapped us. It feels like it’s been… maybe six hours? I’m really not sure. But something like that. That would put the time somewhere around midnight.
The whole time we’ve been traveling, I’ve been doing my best to ignore the alien behind me. He’s made it easy, silent and stoic. But as we continue to move, and my sense of touch is one of the few I have available to me, it becomes harder and harder not to pay attention to his presence. I can feel his body rubbing up against me from behind, and his arms rubbing against my shoulders as he holds the reins. He feels big and substantial and warm. His smell is musky and exotic, like that of a spice I don’t recognize.
In a way that I don’t fully understand, I feel comforted by his presence. It doesn’t make any sense. He literally kidnapped me, after all. But there’s something about the way he rides behind me, the way he puts his hands on my waist to steady me when we go over a bump, that makes me feel safe. At bare minimum, this Kyrzon seems to care for my physical well-being.
I find myself leaning against him as we ride. It’s cold, and his body is warm. There’s nothing more to it than that. We make a sharp turn, and he puts an arm around my front to steady me. It lingers on my body a little longer than it needs to, and I feel a bizarre little pang of disappointment as he takes it away. What is wrong with you, Selena?
The truth is, I’ve just been obnoxiously horny lately. Like, the last few weeks. I think it must be hormones. Or maybe my body rebelling against the fact that at 19 years old, I’ve never even so much as kissed a guy. Same thing, I guess. Biological imperatives and all that.
Stupid body. If only it knew that in a year, it would turn 20, and thus be considered old enough to be sold as a Bride to an alien warrior. Only one more year, and then my annoying, hormonal body can have all the sex it wants.
Well, I guess my body got what it wanted. Because it doesn’t look like I’m going to have to wait a year anymore. Kyrzons only have one use for women, and it sure as hell isn’t setting up solar panels.
I think I would be more horrified by this situation if I wasn’t a Kyrzon Bride. I mean, I am horrified, don’t get me wrong. Several people died, and that’s terrible. I’m still thinking about it. But at the same time, depending on how this turns out, it’s likely that my fate will not differ greatly from the one I was expecting to experience in a year. Whether I will belong to one of these masked aliens, or be ultimately sold to another, my role in life will still be as an alien’s breeder.
I try to focus on that as I ride on the back of the tusk-ox with the bag over my head. At the end of this journey is a fate that I’ve already made peace with. A fate that in some ways, I’ve even come to look forward to. Despite the fact that I generally don’t participate in discussions with the other Kyrzon Brides as they giggle and speculate about the Kyrzon libido, I’ve come to think somewhat longingly about the idea of having a ravenous Kyrzon husband. Growing up as a Bride in Human Territory, you get used to being passed over, to feeling unattractive, to feeling like you’re unfit to date. I won’t deny that on many nights, I’ve fantasized about having a mate of my very own, to love me and protect me and desire me and treat me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Most humans would laugh at the idea that I could find that with a Kyrzon, but growing up, hope was all I had.
And I’m not going to give up that hope. Not now, not ever.
I feel our group of tusk-oxen start to slow. “This looks like a good place for us to make camp,” one of the warriors growls.
We stop riding. The Kyrzon behind me pulls off my blindfold, and I blink as my eyes adjust to the moonlight in a part of the planet that I’ve never set foot on before.
Chapter Four
I can see that my friends are still blindfolded. Barbara and Sam ride together on the tusk-ox behind me, with the other three women distributed among the other two animals. All of the Kyrzon riders are still wearing their face-covering helm
ets, some made of metal, some of wood, some of what I assume to be bone. The metal helmets gleam in the moonlight.
The Kyrzon behind me dismounts. I examine his appearance, this being my first real chance to get a good look at my captor. I can see little of his face behind the helmet. His leather cuirass, however, reveals broad shoulders and a muscular set of arms. His skin is several shades lighter than my own dark tone.
He reaches out a hand to help me off. I stare at him, my hands still tied together. I don’t know what he expects me to do. A moment later, he seems to understand, and instead, just picks me up off of the tusk-ox and lifts me effortlessly to the ground.
The rest of the Kyrzons help the other prisoners dismount without taking the bags off their heads. I turn to my Kyrzon, the one in the spiky metal mask, and gesture to the other women: “Can you take off their blindfolds?”
The other Kyrzons stare at me. “Karsh, you took her blindfold off? What are you doing?”
“They’ve been blindfolded for hours,” grunts the spiky-helmeted Kyrzon, Karsh. “They don’t know where they are anymore. We might as well let them see.”
“That wasn’t the plan,” another warrior growls.
“Fuck the plan,” says Karsh. “Plans change. These are people. How do you expect them to want to be Kyrzon Brides if all Kyrzons ever do is mistreat them?”
One of the other Kyrzons laughs. “We tie them up, kill their friends, and kidnap them from Human Territory, and you’re worried about what they think of us?”
I decide to take the calculated risk of speaking up. “You only have goodwill to gain from us by taking off our blindfolds,” I say to the group. “We’re here now. It’s not like we’re going to run away if you let us see.”
“Aren’t you?” one of them asks, lumbering up to me. I imagine that he’s raising an eyebrow under his helmet.
“Where would we go?” come Sam’s voice, muffled by the bag. “We don’t even know where we are. None of us have ever left Human Territory before. We would be eaten in about five minutes if we tried to run away.”
The alien closest to me snorts in frustration. “If we take off their blindfolds, we have to keep our masks on this whole time. You really want to deal with that?”
“I don’t,” growls another Kyrzon.
“At least we can see out of our masks,” says Karsh. “Could you imagine being blindfolded for days on end?”
“Yeah, well, we get to see out of our masks because we need to ride the tusk-oxen,” one of them grunts. “The Brides don’t need to see for shit. They’re just luggage. I say we keep the blindfolds on, so we don’t have to wear these damn masks the entire time we’re traveling with them.”
I’m not sure I understand this discussion at all. Why would our blindfolds have anything to do with them wearing masks? The Kyrzons keep arguing, the conversation growing heated. It seems like Karsh and one of the other warriors are willing to remove our blindfolds, but the other two are adamant in their refusal.
“So why the fuck did you even sign up for this, anyway?” Karsh growls at the two Kyrzons who are resisting. “I thought this was about bringing new Brides to our homeland. About saving our society. The way you’re trying to do it, they’re going to hate our guts before we even get there. And then what have we accomplished?”
The other two aliens glance at each other.
“Power units,” one of them spits. “I’m in this for the power units. I thought that was the whole point.”
The other one nods. “Same. Once I’m rich, I can buy whatever Bride I want.”
Karsh stares at them in what seems to be disgust. “And once you’ve bought this Bride, you believe that you will be able to take her back to our homeland without difficulty? Need I remind you the entire basis for this mission?”
“I don’t need to take my Bride back to our homeland. We can settle right here, where the trees are green and the humans are plentiful.”
Karsh stamps his foot on the ground. The other Kyrzon on his side looks similarly angry. For a moment, I half-expect the four aliens to start fighting each other here and now.
But to my relief, none of them draws a weapon. The two Kyrzons who are disagreeing with Karsh trade glances.
“We will leave now,” one of them says. “Our fellowship is at an end.”
“And what of the Brides?”
The two Kyrzons look at each other again. I get the impression that they’ve been planning this. “We will split them,” says one. “You take three, we take three.”
Nobody seems quite happy about this, but I get the strong impression that the only alternative is brutal violence.
“That is acceptable,” Karsh grunts. “Take your Brides and be gone.”
One of the other Kyrzons steps toward me and reaches to grab my arm. Immediately, Karsh steps in between us, shielding me with his body.
“Choose a different Bride,” he growls threateningly. The two Kyrzons have a brief standoff, in which Karsh refuses to back down. Eventually, the other alien moves on. He and his companion pick three Brides to take with them, including Barbara. I watch as the women are loaded back onto the tusk-oxen, still blindfolded, trembling with fear.
I have no idea what to do as I watch them ride away. I can’t even wave to them with my hands tied, and it’s not like they would see me anyway with the bags over their heads. I shout Barbara’s name at the top of my lungs, my voice breaking slightly. Karsh gives me a warning look, placing one of his huge hands momentarily over my mouth.
“It is not wise to shout in the Kyrzon wilderness,” he growls.
But I don’t care. I just watch as my friend Barbara disappears into the woods on the back of a tusk-ox with two strange aliens. I have no idea if I’ll ever see her again.
Chapter Five
Karsh and the other Kyrzon, whose name seems to be Judd, take turns setting up a camp as the other keeps watch on the prisoners. Soon, there’s a big tent and a campfire flickering next to it. Judd leads us over to it as as Karsh blows on the fire.
“What are your names?” asks Judd, his tone friendly.
We each answer him in turn, and then repeat our names for Karsh as we get to the fire. I’m not sure why either one of them cares.
“Are you hungry?” Karsh asks us, his voice more gentle than I would have expected. “I can give you food.”
He pulls what looks like some bread out of his satchel. I eye it warily.
“It’s good,” he assures me. “Humans and Kyrzons have the same nutritional needs. Try it, it won’t hurt you.”
Hesitantly, I take a piece of bread. Sam does the same. So does May, the other human woman along with us who I don’t know very well. We all take a bite at the same time, and begin to chew. I’m surprised to discover that it’s not bad at all. Actually, it’s pretty good. I’m probably just hungry.
Karsh watches us eat, and I wish I could read the expression behind the metal helmet. He appears fascinated by us. It seems like he genuinely wants us to enjoy the food.
“There’s more,” he offers as I finish my piece of bread. I take another piece gratefully. “You are hungry?”
“Well, it’s the middle of the night and none of us have eaten since lunch, so yeah, I’d say we’re hungry,” snaps Sam.
I shoot her a be careful look. Our captors are being nice to us. Why would she want to risk screwing that up?
But Karsh takes it completely in stride. “I am sorry about that,” he says. “Here, have another piece of bread. We will have more food for you soon.”
Judd sits down on a rock next to us, holding a bundle of long, thin sticks he seems to have collected from nearby. He passes some of the sticks to Karsh, and then reaches into his own satchel and pulls out a soft, cream-colored block wrapped in cloth.
“What’s that?” I ask. I want to keep the conversation pleasant, friendly. The more positive the vibe is between us and our captors, the better I have to imagine things will be for us.
“Tusk-ox cheese,” says Judd. H
e pulls a knife out of his belt and uses it to cut the block of cheese into cubes. “We cook it over the fire.”
I watch as Karsh and Judd take cubes of cheese and push them onto the ends of the sticks, then hold the sticks over the fire, as though to roast them. They keep them just above the flames, until the outside of the cheese is golden brown. Finally, Karsh pulls his stick out of the fire and hands it to me. I stare at him and raise my wrists, showing that they’re still tied together.
He smiles. “Oh, right.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to untie my hands. And then, instead, he simply pulls the cheese off the end of the stick and holds it out toward my mouth. It’s all I can do not to raise my eyebrows at him. Does he seriously want to feed it to me?
Karsh looks at me expectantly, and my stomach grumbles. I really do want the cheese. Fuck it. I lean forward and take the cheese from his fingers with my mouth, doing my best not to touch them with my lips or tongue. Even so, the act feels weirdly intimate. Even weirder, the idea really doesn’t gross me out the way I feel like it probably should. There’s something about Karsh that is undeniably attractive to me, whatever the situation of our meeting.
The cheese is delicious. Gooey and soft on the inside, with the outside having just the right amount of crunch. It’s creamy and tangy and salty all at the same time, and I really, really like it.
“You enjoy?” Karsh inquires, watching me.
I nod.
“I’ll make you another,” he offers quickly.
Karsh and Judd set about roasting up more cheese cubes, which they distribute among Sam, May, and I as soon as they come out of the fire. All three of us eat them hungrily, munching them off of the sticks that our captors offer to us. Karsh feeds only me with his hands.