by Renard, Loki
I feel heat inside me, not the sore kind of heat which makes my bottom sting, a heat which warms and fills my chest and stomach. I am lighter, suddenly. I am safer. I am freer and also more contained. Everything about being with this massive alien male is confusing to me, but Reaper leads me through with surprising compassion for his kind.
“Do you feel better?” He asks me the question gently.
I nod, unable to form good words.
“I know it’s hard living on this little ship. I know you want to explore, and I know you need to move about more than you can here, but we can’t risk you being spotted if we dock anywhere. We can barely risk ourselves being spotted.”
“Why can’t we all wear skin suits like the ones you made to come to Earth?”
“We could, but you would have to be very obedient. You would have to follow my every order, immediately. To fail to do so would be dangerous for us all.”
“I promise I will,” I say, sniffling. “I really, really promise.”
“In that case, I’m going to trust you,” he says. “I’m going to take you with me out to see Tarkan, and all three of us will discuss what happens next. I’m not going to tell you this will be easy, One. It’s going to be frightening for you. There is a very big, very hostile army hunting the three of us.”
“I’m used to hiding. I know how to survive.”
“That’s true,” he admits. “But the rules are different out here than they were on Earth. It’s a different kind of hiding, and you have to learn it quickly. There will be no second chances.”
Reaper
“I’m bringing One into our discussions. She’s part of this. She deserves to hear what we have to say, and she needs to learn as much as she can about everything that’s going on.”
Tarkan looks at me with a smirk, and I know he thinks One is getting under my skin. Maybe she is. No, she definitely is. But having spanked her bottom and listened to her, I’ve come to the conclusion it is good and right that she is under my skin. My heart is under my skin too, and that is where she lives.
“We still going to breed her?”
My jaw drops. He literally couldn’t have said anything worse at this moment, bringing up the fundamental argument that set all these events in motion.
“What?” One looks at me in confusion. I glower at Tarkan. This is a subject that could happily never have come up again, but he has the tact of a bulldozer.
Now I am going to have to explain what he is talking about, because I know she’s not going to stop asking.
“When we first found you, we talked about generating human sperm so you could bear offspring, but that is not going to work now. Any genetic material we might have found was vaporized…
“… into a million space puppies.”
“Would you stop telling her that her planet has been turned into dogs?” I could kill Tarkan.
“Humans love dogs. It is literally the only thing the species ever agreed on.”
“I don’t think I want an offspring,” One muses. “But I would like a puppy made of Earth.”
I am surprised to hear her say that. “You mean you don’t want a baby? A little version of yourself who will grow up to be a man or a woman?”
She thinks about that for a second. “Erm… no.”
“But there are so few humans left. You’re the only one.”
“And then after I had that one, it would be the only one,” she looks at me, suddenly solemn. “I have had a very hard life,” she says in that soft little human voice which is so adorable, and makes what she is saying that much more tragic. “I don’t want to make someone else have a very hard life too. I want to live my life. With you.”
Tarkan is giving me his patented I told you so, expression which makes me want to throw something heavy at him, but this isn’t about him. This is about One.
She doesn’t want any offspring. Tarkan mentioned the possibility when I first brought the notion of reproduction up with him. I thought it was my duty to make her genetic line continue. I didn’t consider that she might actually truly not want that.
“Please, don’t breed me.”
“Okay,” I say. “I won’t.”
And that is that. My grand plan for creating a new race of humans ends because it is not what this human, the one I love, wants. I don’t know if that is cosmically correct. The reproductive imperative is strong, but One is more than a potential portal for people to be born through. She is the woman I love, a woman who has had very few choices in her life, has seen little, and suffered much. I would cut my own limbs off before causing her any more pain.
“There. See.” Tarkan smirks. “I know people.”
“Yeah. You know people,” I snort. “You think you know everything.”
“I know what we’re going to do next too,” he smiles.
“Oh?”
“We’re going to get One a puppy.”
“YES!”
It’s not me who exclaims that loudly, it’s One, who is beaming with the kind of excitement that not even I can resist.
“Fine,” I say. “Set a course for puppies.”
Chapter Fifteen - Boss Fight
One
That’s how I ended up sitting in the lap of a nine foot tall horned monstrosity, zooming through the universe, looking for a puppy spawned by the energy released when Earth was destroyed. This is not the way I thought my life would turn out, but truthfully, I never thought my life would turn out at all.
My life expectancy on the planet was only a matter of a few more months, maybe years if I was truly unfortunate, but with Reaper I could live forever. These aliens have ways of navigating time which frees them from entropy. I don’t know what all those words mean, but they’ve been rattling around my head ever since Reaper explained how things worked to me.
I can’t wait to explore the universe with him. I don’t care about the army chasing us. My entire life has been lived against the odds. I know how to survive. Thanks to Reaper, I have learned what love is. It is something that wraps around you, insulates you from the world outside, something that makes you safe even when you're not, something that gives life meaning more than mere survival.
“Oh, FUCK!”
Tarkan swears suddenly and very loudly.
I feel Reaper stiffen under me, but not in the good way.
“What’s wrong?”
“Scythkin fleet just came into range. They’re tracking us.”
I feel the tension in the ship reach a level that makes my heart thrash in my chest, but neither Reaper or Tarkan are reacting to it. They have both become eerily calm. I think that might be what is making me panic most of all. The Scythkin are our enemies, set on destroying us. If they’ve found us, then how can there be escape?
“We knew this would happen one day,” Reaper says. “It may as well be today. We passed a planet not an hour ago. Head for it.”
“It’s all lava and volcanoes,” Tarkan objects. “We can’t land the ship there.”
“I didn’t say land the ship. I said head for the planet.”
Tarkan follows the order. I’m expecting there to be more activity after that, but there isn’t. No big space chase. No weapons fired. No declarations of combat. There’s just a smooth steady flight toward a red ball which grows bigger and bigger with every passing moment. Reaper orders a probe sent out to capture images of it and soon we are looking at a landscape that makes the world I left behind and my little sand cave seem verdant by comparison.
“The surface of the entire planet is covered in active lava, which is pouring from the coronets of thousands of volcanoes,” Tarkan says.
“The air is full of volcano smoke,” I say, seeing as we seem to be sharing observations of a planet nothing could ever survive on.
“It’s a new planet,” Reaper explains. “They spend many thousands of years cooling.”
“So why did we come here? We can’t live here, or hide here, or…”
“We don’t need to live or hide. We're no
t staying, and we’re not running. We’re waiting. You see, that volcano smoke, as you called it, that’s highly reactive. If they come to get us here, which I think they will, they will have to do it physically. Any weapons discharge would detonate the atmosphere and incinerate each and every vessel in it.”
“Reaper…” Tarkan’s voice has an odd tone. He sounds almost worried, but Tarkan never sounds worried. He is the reckless one who doesn’t care about consequences, the battle hardened hunter to Reaper’s cool calm commander.
“I want you to keep the ship in orbit on the dark side of the planet. I will go out and speak with the fleet.”
“I’m picking up twelve ships. That could mean over a thousand warriors. You can’t face them alone.”
“We have separated from the Scythkin. That means we’re at war. And I don’t intend to draw it out forever. I intend to stand today in battle, and I intend to win.”
“But there’s only two of us…”
“I intend to win,” Reaper says, emphasis on the I part of the sentence. “You keep One safe. If this goes wrong, if I go down, then you get her out of here.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Don’t I have a say in this?”
“NO.” The word comes from both of them at the same time.
Reaper stands up, sets me down on my feet and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I couldn't fight for Earth, but I am going to fight for you.”
I trust him. Reaper is too smart and too strong to be doing something stupid, even if Tarkan keeps suggesting that he is.
“The ground is literally lava,” Tarkan insists. “You’re going to burn your ass off. Let’s just run.”
“We need to make an impression, Tarkan. We need to show them that coming after us is painful. They think we’re fugitives. But we’re not. They broke their own laws when they destroyed Earth. They are the criminals. And I’m going to punish them.”
He says those last words in a deep growl which makes the sensitive parts between my thighs vibrate. He’s not afraid. He’s determined.
“Try and find somewhere the ground has cooled enough to stand on.”
“There’s a patch in the polar north. Less than a mile in diameter, surface temperature is 323 Kelvin.”
“Good. Drop me there.”
“Drop you there?”
“You heard me, Tarkan. For once, do as you’re told. Then I want you to hide. Run if you have to. At any and all cost, keep her safe.”
Tarkan nods. He’s not happy about it, but he doesn’t seem inclined to disobey Reaper again. I have gathered by overhearing conversations I wasn’t necessarily supposed to hear, that Tarkan had something to do with what happened with Earth. Reaper has kept it from me, thinking I’d hate Tarkan, maybe. But I wouldn’t hate him, even if he was the one who destroyed it, which I know he wasn’t. Tarkan is impetuous, and jealous and he never obeys Reaper. That might be why I understand him. He’s like a big, fanged, horned brother.
Reaper kisses me deeply, thoroughly and pats my bottom gently. “I love you,” he says just before he turns to leave. There’s something so utterly unceremonious about the entire occasion. He’s going to sacrifice himself. He may not survive this. Twelve massive ships full of brutal aliens against one Scythkin alone? I don’t see how he will win. And yet he’s walking out the door as if this is nothing, as if he’s just going out to get some supplies.
There are tears in my eyes threatening to blur my vision entirely. I reach up to brush them out. I have to see him as he walks away. I want my last vision of him to be something I can remember, because I have a feeling this may be the last time. I don’t understand how one warrior can go against a fleet of ships which have technology capable of destroying planets in the blink of an eye.
“I love you,” I call to him, just as he steps out of my line of sight.
“I love you always,” he rumbles back. He can barely speak, his fangs are fully extended, his body gleams with sharp bladed edges and the promise of death to be dealt.
I want to run after him, beg him not to go, but I stop myself. This is not the time to throw a tantrum. There is too much at stake.
* * *
“I do not like this,” Tarkan mutters under his breath as we retreat to the control room to see what is happening below via the eye of the probe.
“They’re going to shoot him in the face and then the other eleven ships will flank us from every side. We’re either going to be consumed by flames or shot into pieces.”
I let out a little whimper. He turns and looks at me. “Uh. I mean, everything is going to be fine. Absolutely fine. Reaper knows what he’s doing.”
His reassurance comes far too late. I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out and lock my eyes on the screen. There’s an image of Reaper being broadcast nearly in full scale. He is standing on the ground, a lone and lonely figure with twelve hostile Scythkin ships hovering motionless above him. They came down physically for him, just as he predicted.
“This is going to get messy.” Tarkan clears his throat and shuts the screen off.
“Turn it back on!”
“You won’t want to see what happens next.”
“Let me see! Now!”
Tarkan’s eyes narrow at me. “Listen, human. For the next few minutes in which we’re still alive, I’m in charge, so…”
I lunge over him and turn the monitor back on. I have to see this. Whatever happens, I owe it to Reaper to watch.
“You’re really very badly behaved,” Tarkan drawls, but he doesn’t turn it off again either. He wants to see what is happening as much as I do, and probably hates the sense of powerlessness just as much.
The probe allows us to see what is going on. Apparently the Scythkin have come to the same conclusion Reaper did, that any kind of detonation would incinerate everybody here.
“They could just fly away and fire down at us and we’d all burn.”
“They could,” Tarkan says. “But they won’t. They think he’s alone. They want to take him. He’s made himself bait.”
I can’t imagine what kind of army would consider a beast like Reaper bait. That’s like trying to catch a fish with a shark as far as I can tell. I don’t sense any fear in Tarkan, even though we seem to be outnumbered. I didn’t see any in Reaper either. But I’m not sure these creatures feel fear. Fear might be a human emotion they’re not burdened with.
A voice begins to emanate from the lead ship, broadcasting through the dull roaring and popping of endless lava.
“Scythkin Reaper! You will surrender immediately. The human will be confiscated. You will be sent to the front lines.”
It is a series of statements that don’t have any connection with reality. They’re telling him what he will do, and if I know anything about Reaper, it is that nobody and nothing tells him what to do.
“They’re negotiating,” Tarkan snorts. “So stupid. There is no chance he will let them go now.”
“What do you mean let them go? They’re the ones about to capture him.”
“He’s called Reaper for a reason,” Tarkan says, his eyes locked on the screen. I sense an eagerness about him. His fangs are fully extended, even though he clearly has no intention of engaging in battle himself. He is excited by this, and some of that excitement is infectious. I want to see what Reaper does, why he is so confident going up against the might of this hunting party.
“But you do all the hunting, and all the killing and all the tracking. What can Reaper do?”
“I do the tracking, and a lot of the hunting, some of the killing. What Reaper does is…” Tarkan taps some buttons and makes the image of Reaper much bigger on the screen. “Just watch.”
It’s very strange seeing the creature I love surrounded by leaping lava and flame, looking so vulnerable and yet so strong at the same time. The red hues of the light make him glow in a frightening way. I can see that he is fully engaged in his battle mode, his fangs extended, his body covered
in sharp edges, claws, and natural blades. Anything that tries to take hold of him will find itself shredded.
But they’re coming for him anyway.
When he fails to surrender, hatches open up on each of the ships and soldiers begin to rain from the sky, parachutes blossoming behind them as they tumble from the sky. There are dozens, no, hundreds of them, all raining down toward Reaper.
“They’re going to kill him!” I’m panicking now.
“No. They're not.” Tarkan is full of confidence. “I’ve never seen anybody kill Reaper.”
“How many of them are there?” I breathe the question.
“Not enough,” Tarkan replies.
I don’t see how he can hope to beat any of those massive warriors who are moving against him in such great numbers it looks as though the sky is full of dark spores.
“What are they doing?” The question escapes me before I can stop it. I am so worried for him, so convinced that I’m going to watch him die, and so proud of him at the same time. Reaper has been everything to me from the moment we met. He found me as a lost girl and through his touch and his love, he made me a woman. He has protected me at all costs. And now he is making a stand against those who want to hurt me. I owe him everything, and I feel like I have given him nothing but trouble.
“They’re going to try to overrun him, cut him into pieces, and spread those pieces across every Scythkin territory in the universe,” Tarkan muses as the soldiers get closer.
I stare at Tarkan, who has once again failed to be comforting in any way. I wish he would learn to shut up. At times like these, he’s just one big stream of terrible consciousness.
“Oh, don’t worry. It probably won’t work. Or it will. But…” he trails off as the first of the parachuting soldiers reach Reaper, coming into range of his powerful body. Reaper reaches up, plucks him from the sky by the leg and slams him against the ground with an impact that makes the enemy go immediately still. Dead. Just like that. The probe swoops in and I see the lifeless body, quickly joined by another, and then two pieces of yet another. They are dropping like flies all around Reaper’s legs and feet. He kills them so quickly and so skillfully that I don’t see it actually happening. It is like a magic trick, but instead of rabbits coming out of hats, soldiers are dying in pieces.
