by Lara LaRue
She was overly quiet after that, and I felt the need to press. I was missing something, and I needed answers. There was too much I didn’t understand.
“Why was he angry with me?” I asked. She held her head down and toyed with her fingers and then heaved a sigh. “What is it?”
“You speak so rash against something that is held sacred here.” She began and then got up. “I’m going to get dinner. Something hot should do you some good.” She went toward what I believed to be the kitchen, so I followed her.
“Geneva, I really appreciate your generosity, but there’s something I need more than food right now,” I told her. “From the minute I was taken to Sekkol, I’ve felt like I was in the way. Why is everyone angry at me?”
“You are very impatient,” she said. “And not very knowledgeable either. I have never understood humans.” Then she sucked in a deep breath, like she was about to say a lot. “My son is angry at you because you are openly rejecting an imprint.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I told her.
“Here on Jupiter, each person is only given one chance at love. Just one. Usually, it is the man who imprints on a woman. At that moment, when he recognizes her, their souls connect. After that point, he can love no other or be with any other unless he is willing to risk living an unhappy life. The love never goes unrequited,” she explained and then turned to look at me for apparent effect, or to get an idea of what I was feeling. “Even if the woman doesn’t understand right away.”
“But none of this is my fault,” I replied.
“Neither is it his,” she added. “Imprinting on you can only lead to negative consequences for Master Sekkol. By rejecting him, you may have condemned him twice.”
The weight of what she just said rested heavily on me, and I slouched under its influence. It was now very clear we were both victims of the same laws, though he had chosen to bear the brunt of it.
“But he didn’t return to Anon because of me. He went back to save Brom,” I said, hoping to rid myself of some of the blame.
Geneva smiled and then leaned over to take my hand in hers. They were warm and soft, and I looked down at them, still marveling at how surreal my current existence was.
“Think about it,” she said. “Why was Brom captured in the first place?”
She was right. Brom had been the one helping me all along, helping us, before he was taken. Sekkol’s decision to go back was a noble one, though he was forced. His purchasing me had set in motion a series of things that got knocked over by that first domino.
“He isn’t just out there fighting to save Brom.” She continued.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked.
“He is out there fighting for love. Maybe you should do the same for him,” she said and then rose once more.
“How?” I asked. “I don’t know this place. I don’t belong here.”
“I don’t know how to answer that.” She stopped without turning around.
I didn’t either, so she kept walking, and suddenly I was hungry. But this time, it was for more than food, as my heart started searching for ways to save him. My love life back on Earth was nonexistent, though it was something I desired, but that just didn’t take root. It was odd that love had found me on a strange planet and with the most unlikely of persons.
“As far as people go,” the woman said, “he is not such a bad choice.”
Then I was left alone with my thoughts that were making more noise than Roan had earlier. But it was now that I finally understood. They were slaves to love and whomever it chose for them, and Sekkol was going to be punished for it. Jupiter was, after all, a cruel place.
I sighed and went after Gideon’s mother, only now starting to feel the rumbling of my stomach. I was starving, and if I was going to go to war, I’d need ammunition.
Chapter 19 / Sekkol
“So what now?” Gideon asked as we crossed the city line.
“Same plan as before. We get Brom,” I replied and then circled overhead. “Where do they have him?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be so easy, especially since Commander Styx saw you enter the city,” Gideon replied.
“It will be. They want me,” I replied and then shot forward and settled my hovercraft before Commander Styx. “Where is he?” I asked the commander.
He grinned, but he gave me no answer. “Take him in,” he said to the men gathered around him.
“You will do no such thing,” I snarled and glared at them. They froze in their steps, unsure of what to do next.
“Go!” Commander Styx barked, but none dared move against me. He looked over his shoulder at them, and then his eyes turned to me and were now as red as blood. “I gave you a command,” he said to them.
I watched as they looked amongst themselves and shuffled about until two of them stepped from the group and advanced toward me.
I pulled my weapon from its sheath and held it at my side. “I will not refrain from using this,” I warned them. I was not intent on having a verbal battle or an optical showdown with Commander Styx. I owed him no allegiance, and he would not deter me now. The men knew the level of my seriousness and would come no closer. “I am going to speak with my father.”
“But that’s exactly where my men would be taking you,” Styx replied.
“That is not necessary,” I said and lifted the hovercraft once more. “I know where to find him.”
I could feel his eyes staring holes in my back, but that was nothing new. The two of us were not friends, nor were we ever on polite terms; he hated me as I hated him, and as the days went by, I discovered new heights to that emotion. I represented something he could never be. I was to be the next ruler of Jupiter, and it bothered him tremendously that I kept rejecting something he so desperately wanted.
That desire for power was spread along the branches of the family tree, as his sister Nala had tried on more than one occasion to get me to wed her. She had deceived me once into thinking she was carrying my child and only lately had tried to blackmail me into marrying her yet again by holding my secret love for Keira as ransom. Styx had taken my rejection of her personally, and he was desperate to find a way to get rid of me. Keira provided him with the perfect weapon.
“Sekkol, is that you?” Thorax’s voice came over the device on my hovercraft. He was the last of the four-man squad I headed and was presumably concerned about my current affairs.
“Yes, Thorax,” I replied.
“Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice more of a reprimand now than concern. Gideon had apparently briefed him.
“I couldn’t let Brom suffer for my actions,” I said.
“He wouldn’t be suffering your consequences. He was willing to die for his own,” Thorax said.
“It was all on my account,” I told him. “Where is he?”
“They have him over at The Pike,” he explained. “They figured that’s where you would go.” There was a long pause as the hovercraft glided toward my doom. “What do you suppose will happen now?” he asked.
We were usually the ones meting out punishment to guilty parties. It was strange for them to see me in this position, and I knew it troubled them.
“Don’t worry about me,” I assured, speaking to both him and Gideon. “I will get Brom. Then you can go back to your regular duties like none of this happened.”
“Except it did,” Gideon said, and I caught his gaze as I turned to my right.
Just then, I saw the outline of The Great Pike, and I was not obliged to have either of them caught in a trap. I handpicked the Enforcers; it would give the commander great pleasure to make his own squad and be the all-powerful ruler of the guards.
“This is where you stop,” I said to them as I approached the steps. “I appreciate all your help, but I have to do this alone.” They were about to argue, but I held up my hands and commanded their silence. They nodded then and turned their hovercrafts around. I watched until they were a distance away before I leveled th
e hovercraft and hopped off.
As soon as I entered the large doors that led down the long passageway, I felt two hands clamp down on my arms, on either side. I saw they were two of the royal guards posted there, who had clearly been given instructions to take me in at first sight. I struggled against them, but they were trained arms, and I was caught unaware.
“Sekkol, you have been found in contempt of law twenty-eight, subsection four, which states that any and all association with humans that exceed their role as—” one of the guards started reciting.
“I know what it says,” I spat. “Take me to my father!” I shouted as I writhed.
“The Tribunal requires your presence,” the guard said this time as they pulled me along.
“Let me go to my father!” I shouted even louder, my voice filling the passageway.
A door opened on the right a few steps away, and my father came out. “Release him,” he told the guards.
They nodded, pulled their hands back, and locked them behind their backs. Then they retreated and resumed their position at the door.
“Come,” he said to me and went back into the room.
I shrugged my shoulder and straightened my clothes before I followed after him. Entering the room, I closed the door behind me.
“Sit,” he commanded, and I looked at him oddly as he spoke to me in a tone I was unfamiliar with. He remained standing as I obeyed him, and he locked his fingers behind him. He was staring at the monitor on the wall, and I only now realized it displayed my childhood days, each one flitting by as he relived them again. Then he stopped on one, where I was just being taught how to ride the hovercraft.
“Do you remember this day?” he asked. “I had dreamt so long of that moment, when you would become a man and I would teach you these things. You were such a fast learner.” I didn’t respond, and I heard him sigh loudly.
“Father, there is something I have to say.” I began and then stood.
“No, there is not.” He stopped me. “When I felt you had imprinted, I was excited you would finally take your place here. To find out you imprinted on a human…” He trailed off and then turned to look at me. The disappointment in his eyes was profound, and for the first time in a long time, I felt I was the one who had done something wrong. Except I didn’t.
“Father, how could I have known that was even possible?” I asked. “And how can I possibly go back from this?”
“There have only been speculations.” He began again. “I saw the change in your appearance some time ago, and I recognized it immediately as evidence that you had imprinted, but you denied it then. You need only deny it once more to the Tribunal and be done with this.”
Be done with this? I felt as if I were a child again; I always did when I was in his overbearing presence. “How can I do such a thing? You know I will never be able to imprint again.” What he was saying made no sense and was not something I was remotely willing to consider.
“No matter,” he said. “You can just choose a woman to be with, and she can bear you heirs. You cannot be with this human. No human has ever assumed leadership of Jupiter.”
“Then I won’t be ruler of Jupiter. We can live a simple life—”
“My son will not live a simple life just because of one human!” he barked. “You will do as I ask.”
I stood there listening to him preside over my life, and it was at that moment the decision was made for me.
“You’ve always taught me to be strong and to stand up for my beliefs, to never cower and to never back down. Jupiter demands a leader it can respect, not a coward who hides behind the laws when it suits him, but one who is bold enough to stand even against it. I cannot deny her, nor will I settle for anyone else.”
“Sekkol, this is insane,” my father pleaded.
“I have made my decision,” I told him.
“Then I am afraid there is nothing I can do,” he said and then he walked out. After he did, the guards showed up, ready to take me away.
All the way to Anon, I had thought seeing my father would have made things different for me. After all, he was the Lord Magnus, Supreme Ruler, who had the power to overturn any decision made by the Tribunal or any other court. This outcome was not what I had in mind. My only consolation was seeing Brom being led to the door as I was taken in the opposite direction.
Chapter 19 / Keira
It felt odd waking up in a strange place. My eyes fluttered, and I wiped the sleep from them with the back of my hand before stirring under the covers. Instantly, my mind found Sekkol, and I wondered at the outcome of his return to Anon.
The customs on Jupiter were still strange to me, but I had to acknowledge their nobility and respect for their system. I sucked in a deep breath and slid from under the satin fabric. My body felt rested, but my mind remained tormented as I staggered to the bathroom Geneva had introduced to me last night.
She had given me my own accommodations, which proved to be even more comfortable than my apartment on Earth. Still, I missed the leather sofa bed with the quilted throw that I fell asleep under almost every night while watching TV; the dark curtains at the windows, securing me from the world; the kitchen that was mostly devoid of life and all activity, displaying neat rows of pots and pans that fit nicely with the other decorative items that never got used; and the ice cream and leftover pizza that would likely be rotten by now. This place, this world, was nothing like the one I knew, but it was fast becoming the only reality I had.
Ever since I got here, I’d been trying to find a way to get back to Earth, which included playing the helpless victim to the alien who had taken me and made me “his.” I lost that game the minute I started enjoying his company, though I fought hard to hide the budding emotions. Now, and perhaps because of Roan’s reaction to my words or his mother’s explanation of what imprinting does to a person, I had grown more sympathetic. Now I wanted to know more, to be a part of this, and to feel things the way they did. But most of all, I wanted to do it with Sekkol.
“How did you rest?” Geneva asked as soon as I emerged from the room.
“Okay, I guess,” I replied as I tried to stifle a yawn. “Did Gideon come back?” He was my only link to any development with Sekkol.
“No, he did not,” Geneva replied and then rested the cup she’d been sipping from in the palm of her other hand. The act itself seemed so proper she could have easily been the queen of Buckingham Palace. She sat in an upright posture, her hair smoothed back and her countenance as royalty. It was hard not to be impressed by her appearance.
“Oh,” I said, and my gaze wandered to the walls and then to the plant before she arrested my attention again.
“I know you are concerned,” she said, “despite your words. But I’m sure he is fine.”
“How can you be certain?” I asked and then stood. I could feel my chest heaving at the same moment I wondered at the strange feelings suddenly overwhelming me. I clamped my hand onto my chest that had started to feel constricted, and then my breathing began to slowly come out in short gasps.
“Are you all right?” Geneva asked as she sprang to her feet and set the cup on the side table.
“Yes,” I said and then bent over, grabbing my knees in the act for support. “I’m not sure,” I finally admitted. I felt almost faint, and immediately, I recognized the feelings as the same ones that had overcome me after my parents’ accident. I was having an anxiety attack.
I went back to the cushioned seating and sat down, and she sat next to me, worry easing itself into her posture.
“Would you like some water? Or air?” she asked, touching my hand.
I could feel my heart thudding against the inner wall of my chest, and my palms grew clammy against my knee. I closed my eyes as I waited for the sensation to come to an end. She asked me again, and this time, I nodded and then stood. As I headed for the door, I felt heavier than I was a few moments ago. Maybe the air would do me some good.
Geneva got up and followed me out, and I observed the
neighbors’ reactions to me being there. The ones who paid any attention nodded, and the others kept going, like my presence wasn’t unusual.
The air was warm, and the ground moved under my feet. The streets weren’t like Anon, with the solid clay-like matter, but loose, like sand. The people wore high-necked outfits, equipped with something that looked like nose masks.
“Do you have sandstorms here?” I asked Geneva. She was moving at my pace, keeping her gaze on me.
“Hmm.” She smiled. “You have odd expressions on Earth,” she said. “I think I know what you mean, though. The wind can get quite rough out here at times, and that’s why the houses are so close; it protects us from the desert rage.”
“Desert rage?” I asked. And she said our expressions were strange.
“What you call sandstorms,” she replied.
“Does it ever rain?” I asked, shielding my eyes as I looked up at the sky. The sun was creeping to the center, signifying it was close to midday. The thudding in my heart continued, but I knew from experience that if I distracted myself enough, it would subside.
“About once or twice every month,” she replied.
“What?” I asked. “That often?”
“Yes,” she replied. “It is very hot here, and the heat attracts the rain.”
It seemed every time I got something figured out about Jupiter, another oddity presented itself. We went along the street, and I noticed everything looked almost identical. It reminded me of an area in Queens, New York, I had visited before, rows of buildings in an apartment complex that were only distinguishable by the number of the building. Were the numbers to be removed, one could easily mistake one for the other. Except here, there weren’t numbers, but symbols and carvings on the doors.
“Where did Roan go?” I asked. I wasn’t really interested, but it was something else to talk about.
