by Octavia Kore
Chapter 3
Nuzal
The cells lining both sides of the hall Nuzal walked down were filled with humans of different shapes and sizes. Their coloring ranged from the darkest shades of brown to the palest cream, a stunning variety that never failed to amaze him. His people, the Grutex, lacked such variation, but it was not due to anything natural.
For generations, the scientists aboard this vessel had diligently worked to create the perfect species: a creature both intelligent and violent, who was more than some mindless killing machine. He and every other Grutex in existence were part of a massive genetic overhaul.
Still working out the kinks, Nuzal thought with a rueful snort.
The fact that he had only two sets of red eyes instead of the preferred three was seen as an imperfection. He might as well have been born without the set of violet eyes just beneath them. Unlike the red, violet eyes could not transition to an infrared state and were therefore useless during battle.
Nuzal had never even been considered for the warrior class, and it stung to know that he had been shunned for something he couldn’t control.
Next time, he told himself. Next time, I will be better.
The data on his comm screen scrolled across his forearm as he followed Erusha past the cowering humans. They scurried away from the front of the cells like insects as they approached, huddling together in the corners as if this would protect them.
Nuzal had worked hard to erect his wall of indifference toward their plight. As a youngling, he had learned that empathy was a weakness, but this lesson had become increasingly difficult to remember as of late.
Their enemies had always been a match in strength and technology, but these humans? No, they were weak, with soft bodies, and they possessed no tech that could effectively repel their forces.
They were helpless to defend themselves, and there was something about that fact that repulsed Nuzal, that made him feel for these creatures. It was dangerous to feel, so he kept his mouth closed and all six of his eyes on his work.
Erusha was the head of their department on the ship and ran the lab where Nuzal spent most of his time. The influx of human captives kept them busy. Detailed logs and medical records of the humans were meticulously maintained in the hopes that they might discover something useful.
Like a more natural way to reproduce, perhaps?
Long ago, further back than any of them could remember now, the Grutex had been forced to resort to artificial incubation. Not only had the few females on board the ship become infertile, so too had the majority of their males. Whatever had caused this mutation remained a mystery, but the Grutex Kaia, their leader, no longer seemed focused on curing them.
They had discovered the planet the humans called Earth a few generations ago. His memory of the event was patchy, but he could remember the thrill of finding something untouched. As far as Nuzal knew, they had been the first to come upon the world and the first to take the humans.
It had started with only a handful, just enough to understand their species, but that was all he could recall. Like the others, the reproductive process had slowly begun to eat away at Nuzal’s memories.
“You have the latest data from our last batch of testing?” Erusha asked.
“I do, sir.” He tried his best to hide the annoyance he felt at having to defer to someone else, but Nuzal had to remind himself that he was no longer the warrior he had been in his previous lives. The power and authority he had once wielded were no longer his.
While he understood the need to test, to gain knowledge, Nuzal couldn’t understand how the Grutex could hope to remain “perfect” if they were already attempting to breed with another species. Especially one that they had treated as little more than livestock for as long as they had been in contact with them.
In past generations, this would have been unheard of, and yet the superiors and scientists all acted as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.
Nuzal wished, not for the first time, that he retained more of his memories. There was no doubt in his mind these lost moments in their history would have helped to better understand the reason they had strayed from their quest for purity.
As if the other male could hear Nuzal’s thoughts, he stopped and spun around to face him. “Save your musings for later, Nuzal. We are going there to report our data, nothing more. I don’t need the Kaia up our tails, sticking his face into things he knows nothing of.”
“Of course, sir.”
They moved into the inner section of the ship, the place where all of the major decisions were made, where those motivated to lead congregated to battle for supremacy.
As much as he had wished as a youngling to be seen as worthy of participating in the warrior sect, Nuzal was grateful for the quiet of his lab anytime he found it necessary to travel here.
So much for being more than mindless killing machines, he thought to himself as a fight broke out nearby.
Warriors rushed forward, cheering on the males as they clawed at one another. Had he been like that when he was a warrior? Had he been little more than a vessel for mindless anger and violence?
Nuzal wanted to believe that he would have never started an altercation without a damn good reason. There had been rumors recently, whispers among the medical and scientific sections that the warriors were being given injections. Some theorized that this caused them to become far more brutal than he had ever remembered being, but he couldn’t afford to entertain whispers.
“Brutes,” Erusha sneered as they stepped around the onlookers. “Take a good look, Nuzal. This is what we are becoming. Without the humans, this is our future.”
The sickening crack of an exoskeleton made Nuzal wince as he turned his head away and followed after Erusha. He knew the male didn’t agree with most of the genetic modifications the Grutex had been subjected to, but he never voiced his reasons. Nuzal was sure the threat of execution and delayed rebirth was enough to keep his mouth shut.
Four armed warriors stood outside the door of the Kaia’s office, their eyes narrowing on Erusha and Nuzal as they approached.
“Present for confirmation,” the largest of them rumbled.
Nuzal turned his arm over and waited as the warrior passed the scanner over his wrist before moving on to Erusha. The device chimed twice, and they were waved inside as the doors opened.
He had made trips to this sector before, but Nuzal had never been privy to any of the meetings with the Kaia himself. As the head of the military might, the Kaia ruled supreme, and not even the council could overturn his decisions. The Grutex in question was massive, with six dark red eyes that roamed over them as they stepped inside. His black xines wriggled for a moment before settling against the scarred exoskeleton.
The Kaia leaned forward in his chair, watching them from behind a long metal desk covered in souvenirs of his battles and small trinkets given as gifts from “allies.” In truth, the Grutex had no friends. The Tachin, the insect-like aliens whose homeworld they were currently orbiting, were as close to friends as they would likely ever get.
In the corner of the room, pressed up against the smooth wall, a human female shivered. Her yellow hair was pulled back away from her slender face, and her dark brown eyes tracked Nuzal and Erusha as they approached the desk. The black leather collar fastened around her throat was the only thing she wore.
“Kaia,” Erusha muttered as he inclined his head.
Nuzal kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to look at the male in front of them. He had an awful habit of giving his feelings away, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he had been the one chosen to come along today.
If he showed even a modicum of the anger he felt over the way this little human female was being treated, he would be viewed as a challenger and subject to a brutal beating from the Kaia that no one would object to. Even though the Grutex were expected to mate these aliens, to breed them, they were in no way encouraged to actually feel for them.
“Erus
ha. You have a data report for me?”
“Of course, sir.”
Nuzal heard the ping of the file he had uploaded earlier as it was sent directly to the Kaia’s comm. A grunt from behind the desk had his jaw clenching with anxiety.
“There have been no successful matings?” the Kaia asked, his voice laced with a deadly chill.
“None,” Erusha confirmed.
“This is unacceptable, Erusha! How many humans do we have on board this vessel and none of them are causing a reaction among the warriors?” Something heavy, most likely a fist, slammed against the metal desk, making the little female whimper.
“The warriors are not the only Grutex on the ship––” Erusha began.
“They are the only males I wish to see bred and you would do well to follow those orders.” Before Erusha could speak, the chirp of a transmission sounded from the holocomm. “Stay,” he barked when they moved to leave. “It will only take a moment.” Nuzal glanced up to see him swipe a clawed finger across the pad, bringing the image of the younger warrior to life. “Raou. What is it?”
“The Venium have arrived on Earth. Xuvri was on his hunt when one of their males attacked him.”
“Did he live?”
“He did, but his injuries are severe,” Raou reported.
Nuzal remembered Xuvri from his time in the breeding program. The male had successfully bred his human female more than once, but none of the pregnancies had made it to term. He couldn’t remember what had become of her, but if the warrior was participating in the hunt again, it didn’t bode well.
“Have him healed and back to his hunt as soon as possible. We need every warrior ready.”
“Yes, sir, and the Venium?” Raou asked.
“Find him,” the Kaia growled before ending the transmission. There was a moment of silence before things began to fly off the desk and crash into the walls and floor. “Venium scum!” The female in the corner began to cry, tugging on the chain attached to her collar. “Quiet!” he bellowed, rushing at her. With nothing more than a flick of the Kaia’s wrist, the chain snapped and he yanked the female from the corner. She stumbled on wobbly legs, falling to the floor in a trembling mass. “Fix this one! She does nothing but sob and cower. Send a replacement, something sturdy.”
Erusha jerked his head toward her, and Nuzal gathered up the nude female as she continued to cry. He struggled not to let his mask of indifference slip and to tamp down the snarl that threatened to rip through his chest. How could the Kaia treat any being with such disdain?
They are animals, Nuzal. He repeated the lie to himself over and over, hoping if he said it enough, he might actually believe it one day. As soon as they were dismissed, Erusha rushed him out the door, grumbling under his breath about the instability of leadership.
“Kill me, please.” Nuzal’s eyes jerked down to the human in his arms. “I don’t want to be fixed.” She cried against his chest. “Just kill me. End it.”
Her soft plea tore at his heart, but he stomped down his emotions. He couldn’t do what she was asking him. From the fear in her voice, Nuzal guessed that she knew what the Kaia had meant by “fix.”
He wanted her modified, changed into something less human and more Grutex. Although the tests showed this did nothing to encourage the bond or increase the chances of reproduction, the Kaia had requested this many times for the females who had the misfortune of catching his eye.
“I’m sorry,” he told her quietly. “I really am.”
Chapter 4
Jun
There was an alien in her house. An attractive, half-dressed alien, but an alien all the same. You’re almost as bad as Amanda, Junafer. What was she supposed to do with him now that she had gotten him here?
Jun narrowed her eyes at the creature who stood in her living room. His massive stature and deadly claws should have intimidated her, but Brin didn’t scare Jun. He made her feel a lot of things when he looked at her, but fear was not one of them.
She’d spent the last couple nights at Amanda’s to make sure she wasn’t leaving her friend with the alien equivalent of Ted Bundy. Humans didn’t have a monopoly on serial killers, right?
Jun spent most of the first night sitting up, waiting for the big alien to make his move, but he’d been nothing other than helpful and patient. While she wanted to protect her friend, Jun also realized she couldn’t make all of Amanda’s decisions for her. If she wanted to bring a strange alien into her home, what could she really do to stop her?
You’re one to talk.
Brin moved around the space, bending down to study pictures of her family and the religious knickknacks she had brought with her when she moved from the Philippines. He ran the pads of his fingers gently over the earrings that had belonged to her lola before tracing the face of her statue of the Virgin Mary.
“What is this?” Brin asked, reaching out to touch the necklace resting in its box on the table.
“Don’t touch!”
She lunged forward, grabbing his wrist. His blue eyes searched her face, and she felt her heart pound furiously within her chest as heat crept up her neck.
“I’m sorry,” Jun murmured. “It’s something my lolo—my grandpa—made a long time ago. He was a fisherman, and this came from one of the sharks he caught while he was out in his boat.” She looked down at the necklace and smiled, remembering the man she loved so much. “This one was passed down to my papa and one day, when he is older and has proven himself, it will be my privilege to pass it to my little brother.” There was no doubt in her mind she would get the chance. John took his studies seriously and worked hard for their family. “There is a belief we have back home that it’s bad luck for anyone other than the owner to touch it, so even though I’m its guardian right now, I’ve never actually touched it.”
When he did nothing but blink down at her, Jun shifted self-consciously. She knew most of these beliefs seemed ridiculous to people here and she shouldn’t be surprised to find that even an alien thought their superstitions were a little crazy.
“Just silliness,” she muttered before pulling her hand from his arm, but the warmth of his fingers wrapping around her wrist made her pause.
“Why is it silly?” he asked. When she only shrugged, Brin curled a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up until she was staring into his face.
God help her, but when he looked at her like that, Jun felt some sort of awareness spring to life within her. Scars littered the dark gray skin of his upper body, and as she took him in, the stripes on his shoulders, arms, and face that Oshen had called his fushori began to glow softly.
“Most of the people I’ve met here don’t believe in superstitions. They think it’s crazy, but it’s what I’ve grown up with.” When she tugged her hand away and pulled back, Brin let her go without complaint.
“Oshen and I once painted our ears red for days before our trials because his gia told us it would bring us luck. The stuff we used stained our skin for a month after.” His soft laugh drifted over her. “Your tradition is not silly. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
The lump that formed in her throat with his words made it difficult to swallow, but she smiled gratefully. He bent to inspect the necklace, keeping his hands behind his back this time.
“You said this was from a shark?”
“Yes.”
“I think sharks may be one of my favorite animals from your planet. There were so many varieties in the database.”
Ah, yes, she had almost forgotten about that. The fact that the Grutex had not only been collecting humans, but also information on them and everything concerning Earth, didn’t sit well. To top it off, the monstrous invaders had obviously been sharing their findings with other alien species, drawing more attention than she liked to their little corner of the universe.
“I think I’d like to try swimming with them.”
The statement had her brow rising, and she turned to him with a grin. “They have made so many movies about why you should not wa
nt to swim with sharks.”
“You would never swim with them?”
“Never.” She laughed. “Besides, I can’t swim.”
Brin’s laugh died on his tongue, and his mouth slowly dropped open. “You can’t swim?”
“Nope.”
“You said your grandsire was a fisherman, that he went out on boats. I assume this means you lived near a body of water and yet you can’t swim?”
Jun shrugged as she reached for the blanket draped across the arm of the sectional. He wasn’t the first person to find this strange, and she doubted very much that he would be the last. “I’ve swam in pools, but you won’t catch me in the ocean.”
“Why not?”
“Where I’m from, we have horrible typhoons. They destroy homes, flood entire cities, kill people. We live on the beach, and I’ve watched the sea churn and become violent so many times. I’ve seen what it could do to people who were caught up in it and so I prefer to not give it the chance to take me.”
“If you were to learn to swim, wouldn’t it be helpful?” Brin asked, stepping closer.
“Being a strong swimmer in a situation like that won’t save your life.” Before she could stop herself, Jun reached up to trace the ridges of his gills. “Humans aren’t as lucky as the Venium. If we’re pulled under, we drown.”
A soft growl rumbled up Brin’s chest, and when she realized she was still touching him she jerked her hand away, retreating toward the other side of the room.
“I need to get my things together. I think it’s still dark enough outside that we can get back to Amanda and Oshen before the neighbors are out and about.” She waved at the dark sectional. “You can sit. I won’t be long.”
Without another glance to distract herself, Jun darted down the short hallway into the master bedroom. Like the rest of her house, it was small, but cozy and it served its purpose. She eyed her bed with its pile of soft pillows and blankets and wished she could climb in and shut off for just a few minutes. She was physically and mentally exhausted from the last few days.