Exiled

by RaShelle Workman

Venus’s body burned, the medicine wearing off. She resisted the urge to cough and tried to imagine herself back on Kelari, free of this awful place. Death seemed to be the answer, the only way.

  More than anything she wanted justice. For her family! Her irrihunter and the unborn baby! Instead she sat in a cell, at the mercy of this atmosphere, and these people, including Michael.

  It was obvious he felt bad about his part in capturing her. It didn’t change the fact that he’d done it. Taken her from Zaren, forced her to endure their torturous tests. Confined her to this evil, stinking place.

  Michael wanted a story. Fine, she’d give him a story. “Sure. It’s a long one.”

  He smiled. “The longer the better.”

  She took a small breath. Not that it did any good, but she needed to clear her mind. Three. Two. One. “Before kelarians existed, there were others, called gethniovians.”

  “Gethni . . . others?” He sat up, directly across from her. Crossed his legs as Venus had hers and placed his arms across his lap.

  “Yes. Back then, Kelari was full of division. Six different tribes roamed our world. The Ertherns, Winbeys, Firclees, Watrets, Monobians, and the Suraeys.”

  “Okay.”

  She stifled a giggle. They were kelarian words, but since English didn’t have duplicates, they’d have to do. “The Suraeys were the largest tribe. They also believed they deserved to rule our world. Of course, though the other tribes were smaller; they had their own reasons for thinking they should rule. Every year or so, one tribe would war against another. The biggest reason was always to conquer, but smaller reasons usually started the war. A fight for more land, insidious threats, or lies. Ridiculous reasons, really. The war that brought extinction to nearly all of the tribes and begins my story, happened over a piece of fruit.”

  She watched him raise a brow. “You’re joking?”

  “Nope. I’m not.”

  “Well, wars begin on our planet for stupid reasons, too.”

  “Oh, I know. Maybe even more than you do. See, we kelarians have been around a lot longer than humans. Our race has studied your world and its inhabitants for hundreds of thousands of years. The similarities between our planets, the idea that we look so much alike, that we have land and water similar to Earth, has kept us intrigued. You need to realize our kind make the change into immortality at the age of sixteen. Forever is a long time.” Venus waited for that information to sink in. There wasn’t any doubt Frank and possibly that scary guy, Abe, were listening. Well, let them listen. There wasn’t a thing they could do with the information.

  “Really? Tell me about an incident I wouldn’t already know—about one of our wars.”

  He’d challenged her and she accepted.

  “Okay. You know the war called The Civil War?

  He nodded.

  “The war was important and would’ve happened anyway, but it began because Jefferson Davis lost a game of poker.”

  “No it didn’t.”

  “Afraid so.” Venus chuckled quietly.

  He looked doubtful and the history lesson wasn’t getting her story anywhere. She decided against further discussion on the matter. Regardless of the fact that her father happened to be on the planet at the time, and a close, personal friend to Abraham Lincoln, and her mother, a dear friend to his wife, Mary Ann. That information didn’t need to be announced, especially not here, with a room full of listeners. They might kill her for lying instead of because she was an alien.

  Venus leaned forward and, in a whisper, said, “Let’s just say, my mom and dad were here when the war began.” He looked astonished, but she put a finger to her lips. “Another time.”

  “Count on it,” he whispered back.

  Louder, she continued, “The Watret tribe leader accused the Firclee leader of stealing a gnuff off a tree in one of his groves.”

  He slapped his forehead, which forced a giggle out of her.

  “It’s a fruit which looks like an orange, tastes like a plum and is the color of a banana. When you peel it, the fruit is the consistency of a plum, too.”

  “Gnuff is a great name for it. Your explanation was gnuff to give me a headache,” he said with a smirk.

  “Ha. Ha. Do you want me to tell you this story or not?” Venus pushed down the tickle in her throat.

  “Yes, please.”

  “K. Now, whether he actually committed the crime or not doesn’t matter. What’s important is that the course of all life on Kelari altered after that war.”

  “What happened?”

  “The Watret and Firclee tribes asked the other tribes to join them in their quest for dominance, making promises, creating secret organizations, planning assassinations and changing leaders faster than you change your underpants.”

  Michael laughed. “I change my underpants at least three times a day. You sure they were switching leaders that often?” His laugh was nice to hear.

  Venus joined in. “Well not quite that much.” Sweat covered the back of her neck. In a matter of minutes she’d gone from freezing cold to hot. She needed to get her hair up. Quickly, she spun her hair into a knot at the back of her head and tucked it in a bun. Michael’s jacket slipped. She wrapped it further around her legs and knees. It smelled of him, a hint of cigarette smoke, but mostly of earth and sun-kissed pears.

  She felt natural talking to Michael. If she had to die in this awful place, having him with her would make it better.

  She smiled again. “Finally the Watret tribe convinced three other tribes to join them. The Ertherns. The Winbeys. And the Monobians. Though it seemed the Firclee had a disadvantage, the fact was, the Suraey tribe was gigantic. They were also violent. Kind of like the Huns of your planet’s history—very large and bred to be killers.”

  Venus paused at the sound of clack-clacking. The woman had returned. She walked past Venus’s cell without even a glance in her direction, and moved on to Michael’s. In the woman’s hands were two bags. Some sort of fast food.

  “Hi, Michael. I brought you and her hamburgers and fries. Hope you like pickles?” She zinged the electric current off. Clearly, she eagerly anticipated time with Michael.

  Michael climbed off his cot and walked over. “Oh, pickles are fine.” He touched her hand as he took one of the bags from her. “Thank you for thinking of us, uh, what’s your name?”

  “Sharon,” she answered, dazzling pink stinging her cheekbones.

  “Sharon.” He said her name as though she were a decadent treat.

  Oh, he’s impressive.

  “You’re welcome, Michael. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know. I’ll be here all night.”

  “Really?” he asked with a sexy lilt.

  “Cret,” Venus whispered, trying not to remember what his mother had called him. Catherine’s words were seared into her brain. A man whore, that’s what she’d called him. He certainly had the skills.

  “Yes, your father had to go out.” She lowered her voice and Venus didn’t catch what else she said.

  Michael touched her forearm, a slight caress. Venus shivered in despair.

  What’s he doing? Is he only using me to amuse himself? Ugh. Do I really care? No!

  She now understood why she’d remained connected to him. Michael had told Cheverly he loved her, but either he didn’t mean it or he wasn’t in love with her. She wasn’t his true love. If she were, he wouldn’t be able to flirt so easily. At least Venus didn’t think so.

  After a few more whispered words, Sharon stepped on the other side of his cell and turned the electrical wall back on. Then she walked away, clack-clacking, which wore on Venus’s nerves. She tried to ignore the jealousy rising up. Frankly, Venus was irritated. She’d be dead in a day. Two at the most. Whatever feelings she had for Michael were irrelevant.

  Chapter 46

  Fast Food