by Leslie Chase
I wanted to argue, but the more I listened to the storm, the less I wanted to be out in it. And being trapped here with Ronan had a few advantages…
God dammit, my traitorous body didn’t want to let me stay angry with him. Just the thought of collapsing back into his bed distracted me, left me short of breath and flustered. It was enough to infuriate me all over again. Looking at him didn’t help — Ronan hadn’t bothered to dress, and his naked body looked too damned good to resist.
Fuck it. If the weather was going to trap us down here, I had no reason not to enjoy it.
13
Ronan
According to Athena, two days passed before the storm ended. Inside the buried chamber, the AI’s internal clock was the only way to track the passage of time.
We made the most of our time together, exploring each other’s bodies and enjoying each moment fate gave us together. What we’d find when we continued, whether we’d get the flier to work again after the flood — those were questions for later, questions I put aside to focus on my khara.
At long last I touched her, joined with her, claimed her — and it was beyond any pleasure I’d imagined. My heart was lighter for it. We spent days in each other’s arms, recovering from our injuries and waiting for a chance to continue.
The storm ended with unnerving suddenness. One moment the distant sound of rain and wind, the next silence. Silence broken almost immediately by birdsong.
Becca grinned at me as she dressed for the first time since I’d pulled her clothes from her. She didn’t even seem to mind that I’d damaged several of the unfamiliar fastenings. I watched her squirm into her clothes with interest; it was a shame to cover her beautiful body and hide those curves from view, but watching the process was enjoyable.
I looked forward to undressing her again at the first opportunity.
When she’d finished, she took her turn watching me dress. With clothes between us, we didn’t feel quite as close as we had — but the khara bond was complete now, and we were joined. Nothing would keep us apart.
It was still a bitter-sweet moment as we stepped from the building that had sheltered us and out into the rain-soaked temple complex beyond.
The wildlife had recovered from the storm faster than us, and the forest around us was alive with sounds. I pulled on the survival pack and hefted the spear, wondering if we’d run into any more predators. They should have plenty of easier prey to distract them now, I hoped.
Perhaps we’d even be lucky, and I’d catch some prey of my own. While mixing Becca’s rations with mine was a lot tastier than either alone, I hungered for something fresh. Hunting would wait until we’d found our target, though.
“I should carry the pack,” Becca said. I laughed and shook my head.
“No, little one, I am stronger,” I reminded her. “If you try, you will slow us down.”
She made an annoyed noise but didn’t argue. Good. The sooner we finished our mission the better — that, we both agreed on.
Once we returned to the Joint Colony, we had our entire future ahead of us. It was hard to concentrate on the here and now with that prize hanging in front of me, waiting to be claimed. All too easy to lose myself in daydreams of showing Becca the stars and miss a vital hint of approaching danger.
I would not allow myself to endanger my khara that way.
The hot sun pounded down on the stonework of the temple, water evaporating quickly under its rays. Below us, the torrent carrying the runoff from the mountains had lowered to a shallow stream. Somewhere downstream our flier would be stranded on the muddy banks of the drying river, and I could only hope that it hadn’t been carried too far.
If we were lucky, the flier would need a lot of work before it took off safely. Unlucky, and it would never fly again. I took a deep breath and turned away, forcing myself to ignore that problem for now.
“Where to now?” I asked to distract myself.
Becca turned, hands on her hips. The adorable look of concentration on her face fed my urge to pick her up and carry her right back to bed where we belonged.
“The signal came from this area,” she said after a pause. “And this is the oldest building, so I think our target is here. Somewhere.”
I looked at the red stone, heavily worn and pitted. Yes, it looked older than the rest — I still needed to get used to the idea that things on a planet were exposed to weather, but now Becca had pointed it out it was obvious. The smaller pyramids were less worn.
“It is not inside,” I said, looking up the steep steps that led up the side of the building and resigning myself. “Up there?”
Becca grimaced. “I don’t like it any more than you do, big fellow, but I don’t see any other openings.”
With that, she stepped onto the stairs and started scrambling up them. The steps were too high for her human legs, uncomfortable even for me, but together we made our way up.
It was slow going, and more than once I considered picking Becca up and carrying her. Each time, I rejected the idea for two reasons. First, this way I had more freedom of movement if something attacked us. Climbing faster would be good, but not at the expense of Becca’s safety.
Second, she wanted to do this herself and I refused to deny her that pleasure. This part of the mission was more hers than mine, and I would not take it from her.
There was a third reason, I realized as I looked back at her. Becca’s eyes were locked on me, a beautiful blush spreading across her cheeks, and I smiled. She enjoyed watching me as much as I did her.
And I enjoyed being watched by her. It made me want to take her again, right here, though the high stairs of the temple would not make the most comfortable place for it. That didn’t matter.
Anywhere, everywhere, I didn’t care. I would have my khara. The only reason I stopped myself was that it wouldn’t be safe. Distracted by her, anything might get close to us.
Becca knew that as well as I did. Her blush deepening, she tore her eyes from me and muttered something under her breath. Folding her arms across her chest, she looked up at the climb ahead.
“What do you think we’ll find when we reach the top?” she asked, trying to distract us both. I played along, needing to occupy my mind with something, anything, other than burying myself in my beloved again. The pull of my khara’s body was almost too great to resist.
“Hard to say. A monitoring station, perhaps? Whatever the Taveshi used to drain our batteries must have targeting sensors. It could even be the control station for the system’s defenses. That would be ideal.”
If we could switch it off, then my fighter might be repairable. I could recharge the batteries, take Becca, and head for the stars. My hands tightened on the spear haft at that thought, and I tried to control my optimism.
Would Becca even want to leave with me? I remembered her terror in the flier, and that was inside the atmosphere of a planet. That put a cold dagger through the heart of my hopes.
“Why would they put that on a planet, though?” Becca asked, reasonably. The controls were probably hidden in a satellite somewhere in the dark of the outer system, but I refused to give up on the possibility.
“There are a dozen possible reasons. Building here means they don’t have the space constraints they’d have on a spaceship, and a buried facility can use the planet’s surface as armor. Or it might not be that at all.”
“Maybe it’s some noble’s private getaway?” Becca asked. “They’re an empire, that means they have nobles, doesn’t it?”
I frowned. “No one knows. The Taveshi defend their privacy ferociously, and they’ve owned this part of space since before we prytheen made it off our homeworld. I don’t even know what they look like, let alone the structure of their society. This whole planet might be a noble’s hunting ground or nature preserve or something, it’s true. It makes as much sense as any other theory.”
Becca brightened at that. “In that case there’ll be someone to talk to, a caretaker or something.”
“O
n the top of the pyramid? I doubt it, unless it’s an AI like your Athena,” I said, nodding at the hologram bird. Its head swiveled to face me, eyes wide, and I smiled. The little ball of feathers had grown on me. “Or it might be mothballed completely.”
“No, someone’s broadcasting something,” Becca said, sounding stubborn.
“That could just be an automated landing guide,” I said, and regretting it as I saw her face fall. Hurriedly I continued. “It’s functioning, whatever it is. We’ll be able to use it to contact someone. I promised you I’d get you to your destination, and I will.”
Becca looked half dubious, half frightened by the possibility, and started to climb again. I set off too, taking the lead. I wanted this mission to work out as much as she did. Maybe more — if it allowed us to switch off the suppression field, I’d be free to fly again.
Oddly, that wasn’t as pleasant a thought as it had been before. Oh, I still longed for the rush of flight, for the black embrace of the sky beyond the atmosphere, the thrill of a space battle.
But if it meant leaving Becca behind… no. I refused to let myself consider that possibility. Whatever happened, I’d find a way to bring her with me to the stars.
I remembered the terror on her face while we’d flown, though, and my heart sank. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to fly. She feared it. How could I even think about forcing that on her?
Yet she had managed once before at least. I had to know how, and why.
“How did you come to be in space, if you fear flying so much?” I asked.
Becca sighed and pushed her hand through her hair. “It wasn’t easy, but I can do it if I have to. You don’t know what it’s like on Earth now — I won the colony lottery and it was the only chance for someone in my family to get off Earth.”
Her voice was monotone, her gaze fixed on our destination. I’d seen that dead-eyed look on the faces of warriors reliving the horrors of war, and seeing it on the face of my khara tore at my heart. There was nothing I could do, no one to punish for hurting her.
“My parents, my friends, everyone helped me get ready,” she said. “They gave me strength, and they were so pleased that someone got to go to space. All I had to do was grit my teeth and make it into the stasis pod, and then I’d be fine. One horrible experience, one flight. Once I made it to Arcadia I’d be safe. I’d never need to leave the ground again.”
“And then you woke on Crashland,” I said, reaching for her hand. I wasn’t sure that she’d accept comfort from me, but she clung to me like a drowning sailor to a life raft.
“Yeah,” she said, still not looking at me. Her breathing came a little more steadily though, and I hoped that was a good sign. “I woke here and at best I’ll have to go through all that again. Or I’ll be stuck here on this miserable planet, and I’ll have gone through the flight for nothing.”
Her grip tightened, almost painful. I kept mine gentle, reassuring, but my heart filled with anger. Impotent, useless anger. Rage at the alpha who’d led us in the attack on the humans, but he was dead, killed by Auric.
I cannot avenge the harm done to my khara, I told myself. That doesn’t mean I can’t atone for my part in it.
Swallowing the anger, I gently touched her cheek, turning her head to look at me. Tears rolled down her face and she blinked quickly, trying to turn away.
No. I needed her to see my sincerity.
“You are my khara, and I will not let you suffer,” I promised, voice low and strong. A shiver ran through her. “I will keep you safe from all harm, I swear it. I will take you to your new home, and if you never want to leave the planet’s surface again, I will stay there with you.”
A little gasp escaped her at that. At least she understood the magnitude of what I was promising her. But she pulled back, shook her head.
“I can’t ask that from you, Ronan,” she said. “You need to fly.”
“I need you safe. That matters more,” I told her. She laughed shakily.
“This khara thing is nonsense, but if it was true do you think I’d be able to let you give up the flight you love?” Her voice broke at that and she turned away, shoulders shaking. “Damn it.”
I put my arms around her, pulled her back to me, held her tight. For a moment she tensed in my arms, and then she relaxed. Took the comfort I offered, while I tried to think of an answer to our dilemma.
My soul ached at the idea of giving up flight, but if that was the only way to keep my khara, I would make the sacrifice gladly.
14
Becca
Ronan’s strong embrace held me, and I clung to him for dear life. Maybe I couldn’t hold him to his impulsive promise, but the fact that he’d made it, that he’d chosen to give up the stars for me — that was enough to make me cry in his arms.
My emotions were a terrible mix of joy, fear, love, and pain. I didn’t even know where to start untangling them. But in Ronan’s arms, I didn’t have to. He held me, kept me safe, made me feel better.
If I could have stayed in his arms forever, I would have. But no, that was out of the question. We stood three quarters of the way up an ancient alien temple, and we needed to reach the top before night fell. Reluctantly, I pulled back and wiped my eyes.
“Let’s find out what’s up there,” I said, clambering up the next huge step.
Ronan climbed ahead of me, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He moved with smooth, catlike grace, and the muscles of his thighs showed clear through his tight pants. I bit my lip.
No matter what else was on my mind, it was impossible not to stare at a sight like that. Damn, he looked good. Am I really fantasizing about his legs right now?
Yep. I absolutely was.
I kept my eyes on Ronan’s amazing ass and climbed. My legs ached as I dragged myself up the steep, uneven steps and the harsh sun broiled me. Sweat poured down my back, but somehow I made it to the top.
The last step came as a surprise. Ronan stepped forward rather than up, and I stumbled. Would have fallen if his strong hands hadn’t caught me and pulled me up the last step onto the square top of the building.
Before us, the mountains reached for the sky. In every other direction the jungle stretched out into the distance. The sky turned red over us as the sun dipped towards the horizon. Ronan held me close as we both looked over the world, taking in the amazing view.
But that wasn’t what we’d come here for. With a reluctant sigh I gave Ronan a squeeze and turned to examine the top of the temple we’d climbed.
“There’d better be something up here,” I muttered. “If we climbed all that way for nothing…”
Ronan laughed, a deep, gruff sound that filled my heart with joy.
“If there’s nothing here then we will enjoy the view and each other,” he said, stroking my back as he spoke. A grin tugged at my lips and my cheeks burned. I knew exactly what kind of enjoyment he had in mind.
Focus. Work first, play after, I told myself. Stepping away from him wasn’t easy, but if I stayed in touching distance we wouldn’t get anything done.
The top of the temple was red, weathered stone, and the rains had eroded any carvings long ago. In the center stood an altar, a cube about four foot on a side of black stone unlike anything I’d seen before. Polished to a mirror finish, it looked out of place here.
Frowning, I stepped closer. The altar’s edges were clean and perfect, not rounded or worn by the centuries. Was it new? Or immune to the wear and tear of time?
“Athena, please scan for signals,” I said, holding up my wristband. The tiny sensor suite in the communicator wouldn’t detect a hyperspace relay, but if this cube was an alien device it might put out some other energies.
The hologram owl launched herself at the cube, flying around it. My wristband did the real work, of course, powering up its limited sensors as far as possible and watching for anything out of the ordinary — the hologram was just a display to let me know it was working.
The results shocked me. I’d hoped that, with luck, t
here’d be some kind of local radio signal or holo-interface. I didn’t expect the cube to light up from inside, script scrolling over it as though written by an invisible fiery finger.
Stepping back with a gasp, I hit Ronan, his arms closing around me and holding me as we both stared at the unexpectedly dramatic reaction. Athena’s image blurred and then vanished, interference from the cube disrupting her hologram.
“It’s working,” Ronan whispered, his grip on me tightening. His excitement was infectious, and my moment of fear gave way to awe as I stared at the writing and tried to make it out. Shifting, twisting symbols made it hard to read.
“Something about a welcome, I think?” I said to myself.
“You can read that?” Ronan asked, and the note of wonder in his voice made me blush. I enjoyed being appreciated, especially by him, but I didn’t want to pretend to know more than I did.
“A little bit,” I said, biting my lip and frowning at the letters. “It’s a lot like Eskel script, I think, but there are differences. Maybe an obscure dialect?”
The closer I looked the more I grew sure of it. The glyphs looked strange, hard to read, and I wished that they didn’t move so much, but I managed to make out words. Phrases. The language wasn’t easy like Galtrade, or even the prytheen speech, but I’d studied it from the first moment I got interested in aliens. In some ways it was the most important language in the galaxy.
The Eskel themselves were long gone, though what had happened to them was a mystery that no one had solved yet. But they’d left their mark on history — they’d spread the hyperdrive across the galaxy, they’d helped a dozen other species into space. Examples of their writing and technology turned up everywhere. We’d even found some of their ruins on Mars, back when humans still thought we were alone in the universe.
The holographic glyphs weren’t quite Eskel. Words had shifted and changed, the writing was different in a hundred little ways. I struggled to make sense of it, my head aching as I worked on the unfamiliar structure.
