by Marie Dry
Sarah eyed her empty plate, then shrugged. She couldn’t work up any distaste. “I’d prefer an apple, but I’ve eaten worse. Is it found on other planets in this galaxy?”
“No, the spiders only live in our caves.”
Sarah watched him rise and come around the table to help her out of her chair. She tried to stay put, but he pulled her up without any effort and steered her to the door. “You will come with me.”
“Where are we going?” A small part, a very small part of her feared he was taking her to the Wise One. Or the basement. She dug in her heels but he didn’t even notice. “Tell me where we’re going? I’m not going to see those poor tortured men again.”
“We will walk outside. Human breeders need to be walked regularly.”
Sarah followed him to the door, resisting the urge to tell him she wasn’t his dog. “If you promised to kill those men and end their misery, this walk would be much more pleasant.”
Sarah wanted to be outside so much she ached. She missed the open spaces in Montana—that epic skyline. She wanted to see blue sky and trees and breathe the fresh Montana air. What would this alien landscape be like? She’d seen it only briefly when they arrived. Then there had been so many new impressions to contend with. “Will I be okay dressed like this?” She motioned to her jeans.
His gaze slid over her, like a hot brand. “Yes.”
She shouldn’t be this affected by the way he looked at her. Not while they still had to deal with the torture issue.
They left their room and the door closed behind them. He turned toward the dead end and grunted at the wall. The door slid open and abruptly they left the gleaming, silver, high-tech corridor behind. In front of them a maze of rocky tunnels appeared. Unlike the silver corridor they stood in, it was only dimly lit. Strange chirping sounds echoed from deep inside. Sarah sidled closer to Zaar.
“How do I get the door to open if I’m on my own?” Not that she had any plan to go into these tunnels alone.
“You will never come here alone.”
Her back stiffened, became ramrod straight, whatever a ramrod was. “Why not? The custom of keeping women trapped inside their homes needs to change.” Sarah pressed her lips together and continued, “How would they start businesses, keep up friendships, do the shopping?”
“They do not need any of that—they have their warriors.”
She motioned to the jagged walls around them. “You are right at home in here with that archaic attitude.” They took a left turn and she tried to remember how many turns they took. “What if there’s a fire and I have to run out and I can’t access the door and I’m trapped?”
“The sensors will tell me there is a fire and I will come to rescue you.”
He had an answer for everything. “What if the Aurelians attack us and I have to come in here to hide?”
He looked down at her and she had no trouble reading that look. “The Aurelians do not have the courage to attack us.”
“Well, what if a giant race from the unknown galaxy invades us?”
Again that look. “I would hope they would prove to be a worthy enemy and give my warriors many battles.”
“But what if—”
She gasped and stumbled back. “What is that?”
Huge spiders sat in cubby holes in the brown rock. Like the spiders on Earth, they had eight eyes, but they were enormous. And hairy. If she stood next to one, she was sure it would reach her middle. Or higher.
Sarah scurried behind Zaar. “I should’ve known by the size of their eggs that they’d be this big.” Her knees threatened to buckle and she clung to Zaar.
“They are harmless,” he said.
“It might know I’ve been eating its eggs,” she whispered.
A spider skittered forward and eight baleful eyes settled on her. She clutched Zaar’s jacket so tight her knuckles turned white, and made sure he was between her and the spider.
He turned to look down at her. “It was a different spider,” he said, deadpan.
Keeping a wary eye on the spiders, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “Really?”
“Yes.” He took her arm and led her deeper down the rocky tunnel.
“Are you sure this leads outside?” She walked closer to Zaar, hoping his silver uniform would draw the spiders’ attention away from her.
“Yes.”
The spiders stayed placid and Sarah relaxed. She studied the next cubicle. Another spider crouched among something that gleamed white in the dull light. “What are those balls around him? It doesn’t look like eggs?”
“It is spider silk.”
A spark of interest stirred. She stepped closer, but kept a wary eye on the spider. It chirped, but didn’t make any aggressive moves. “What do you do with it?”
“Before we discovered jinz izwe, it was used to make ropes.”
Of course they’d use it for something warriorlike. “It has no other application?” She could think of several uses off the top of her head. Scarves, dresses, sexy underwear—her head was almost spinning with all the ideas.
“No.”
“I think I could weave with it.” She eyed the ball. “Do you think it will bite if I took some of the silk?” She stretched out her hand, but jerked it back when the spider chirped.
Zaar reached out and grabbed a ball of silk. “If they bite you, I will kill them.” He handed her the silk. “You do not have to fear anything on this planet. I will kill any person or animal that try to harm you.”
She smiled up at him. “I know I’m safe with you. When I see Zyrgins, I’m always reminded that it was your warriors that saved me.” She smoothed out the wrinkle on the shoulder of his uniform. “But Zaar, you don’t always have to kill the things that threaten you.” Or torture them.
She cradled her precious bundle and changed the subject. “You’re all spoiled with the metal stuff you make everything from. I could weave this into cloth with a manual loom.”
He went to the spider’s nest, and she held her breath while he picked up more balls of silk that he handed to her. It was soft. She picked out the thread—fine with a beautiful sheen. The material she can weave with the silk would shimmer in the light. “Does the Aurelian silk come from spiders, as well?”
“No, they have worms the size of Earth snakes.”
Sarah shuddered at the thought.
“You know, with silk of this quality, we can produce cloths that are even better than the Aurelian’s.”
He looked down at her, his eyes swirling all those mesmerising colors. “I would reward you with much wealth if you produce silk of such quality.”
“I’ll get right on it,” she said. Only half joking. She wasn’t fooled—he just wanted to best the Aurelians.
They kept walking, past the spiders who chirped lazily at them, until eventually sunlight gleamed through a thin crack in the rock in front of them. Her heartbeat sped up and she almost ran toward the dusty-looking sunlight. Fresh air, sunlight. She was starved for sunlight.
Brown light hit her as they emerged onto a brown rock that burned her through her shoes. A desolate landscape stretched out before her. She and Zaar stood high up on the mountain. It seemed as if they were the only people on a deserted planet. In front of them a rocky mountain sloped down in a steep decline. Sarah breathed in the fresh air and turned her face up to the suns. It was glorious, after all the months of being cooped up; the sun on her skin felt like the touch of a lover.
Sarah walked forward carefully and looked around. Brown as far as the eye can see. Not even a hint of green or color. “Is there anything growing here?” She motioned to the brown, rocky landscape and stumbled when small rocks slid away beneath her feet.
He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. “There are several hardy plants that grow in the crevices and we have started to introduce more vegetation once native to this planet.”
Sarah turned, to take in as much as she could of this savagely beautiful landscape. “I thought you’d terraformed the planet.”
“We terraformed only the necessary areas of Zyrgin. We prefer to leave most of it in its natural state.”
“Why?” She couldn’t fathom wanting to live in a place with brown rocks as far as the eye could see. Montana may have suffered from deforestation, but it had a lot of green. A lot of that thanks to Natalie. “You could turn it into a paradise with your technology.”
“This has been our home for millions of centuries. This landscape suits us.”
Sarah nodded. It did suit him. There was a primitive air about him, but also something isolated and self-contained. “Was it always like this—so barren?” So utterly barren and lonely.
“No, this was a water-rich planet millions of years ago.” He pulled her back when she would’ve stepped on a loose rock.
“That’s—”
Something that didn’t seem natural to the landscape caught her gaze. Sarah stared up at the top of the mountain, to their right. A warrior stood, unmoving, the harsh Zyrgin sun beating down on his bare head.
She pointed up. “Is that a Wise One? I thought they all wore those odd caps.”
Zaar stopped and looked up at the lone warrior. He turned and led her away, until they couldn’t see the lonely figure anymore. His hand was warm on her upper arm and she sucked in a breath when his fingers grazed the side of her breast. He kept moving, not giving any indication that he was aware of the intimate touch.
She’d given up on an answer when he said, “Zazon is a warrior. He holds vigil for his breeder.”
“Is she praying up there?” It always surprised her—the patience these warriors could show their women sometimes. She could see why there hadn’t been a revolt from the women. Their possessiveness and downright cavemen ways were offset by such unexpected caring and dedication.
“No, she died. He guards her tomb,” he said with absolutely no emotion.
She ached for that lonely figure holding vigil for a woman that would never again speak to him, touch him. “That’s so sad. How long has he been up there?” And why wasn’t Zaar holding vigil at his first wife’s grave?
“Five years.”
She rubbed a hand over her chest. That warrior missing his wife so much he couldn’t even leave her alone in death. Her heart ached for the warrior. He must’ve loved his wife a lot to guard her even in death. “Couldn’t you send him on a mission that will take his mind off his grief?” She couldn’t bear the thought of the warrior suffering.
“He finds comfort to be near her.”
“Why aren’t you holding vigil at the grave of your first wife?” She tried to step away from him, but his hand tightened on her arm.
“I sent her body back to Aurelia.” His tone clearly said the discussion was closed. “I would never hold vigil for her.” He spat out the last words.
“Oh.” Sarah didn’t have the courage to ask him all the questions burning on her tongue. Would he stand vigil for her? Would he even miss her if she died before him? She didn’t want him to ever be that alone. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but she also didn’t want him to send her body back to Earth and get on with his life. To settle down with a breeder who’d be happy to stay inside all the time. One who could do the first knowing with him. Sarah shook off the morbid thoughts and motioned around them. “I’d like to explore a bit.”
Zaar released her arm. “Stay close to me—this ground is treacherous.”
Sarah nodded and carefully stepped down the mountain. Something—some bright smear against the brown rock caught her eye. “What’s that?” She carefully inched her way down, holding onto large rocks, until she could see what made such a bright splash of color in this brown landscape. Zaar kept pace with her. Unlike her, he stepped down the slope easily, as if he took a stroll down a corridor.
Between two large boulders, a small, yellow flower grew in a pitiful amount of soil. It stood proud, as if trying to reach up to the brown sky. Sarah crouched down and stretched out her hand to stroke the velvety-looking petal. She would be like this flower that thrived, that grew in these harsh conditions and even tried to reach for the sun.
A petal moved, not blowing in the wind, but curling up in a deliberate eerie move, as if it wanted to circle her finger.
The air around her changed and Sarah shivered; this harsh landscape suddenly felt menacing: the suns not so warm on her skin, the rock beneath her suddenly not burning through her clothes. The other velvet, soft petals moved as if they too wanted to get closer to her outstretched hand. She frowned. “There’s something strange about this plant.” Zaar hissed at the same time she jerked her fingers back before a petal could wrap around her. All its petals opened and the flower trembled.
Sarah was airborne before she could draw her next breath. The white balls of silk scattered all over the rocks. Something flashed past her, just missing her. “What was that?” she screamed and latched onto Zaar.
Zaar carefully set her down, or tried to, but she held on for dear life. Her arms and legs clamped around him. “Is it moving?” she shrieked, not caring how she sounded. The way the plant jumped from rock to rock was eerie and unnatural. As if the plant was something not created by nature. “Plants don’t jump like animals.’
He materialized a silver object, that reminded her of ray guns in the movies, and incinerated the plant. The plant tried to dodge the bright blue ray and made an unearthly sound, almost like a human shriek, when Zaar hit it.
“What was that?” Her cheeks burning, she unhooked her legs from around his waist and lifted her arms from his shoulders.
“It was a warrior plant. I will take you back,” he said and with a firm grip on her arm, steered her back inside the tunnels. This time she barely noticed the spiders, their chirping barely registered. Compared to that flower, the spiders looked almost cuddly.
“What do you mean warrior plant? Do they go to war?”
“I mean a plant that can kill a Zyrgin warrior.” He steered her through the tunnels with grim purpose.
If the plant could kill a Zyrgin, she wouldn’t stand a chance. “Is that why you don’t want me going out alone?”
“No, it is our custom for breeders to stay in their dwellings unless they have their warriors with them. This is the first time any of the warrior plants have been spotted on Zyrgin.”
She turned to face him when the doors to the room closed behind them. “There are more of them? What are you going to do?”
“It is warrior business.”
Sarah threw up her hands. “I’m getting fed up with that excuse. Have you ever thought how much better your relationship with your women would be if you guys just talked about things like that flower? Or anything that happened during your day. You’d be so much closer,” she said.
A quick searching look from him. “No I never thought like that.”
He stepped forward and pressed his forehead against her. “You want to be closer to me?” Obviously that thought pleased him.
“Yes, but not if everything will come from me. I’d want a warrior who talked to me, who didn’t keep me locked up inside. I want to share everything, the good and the bad.” Their breaths mingled, their foreheads pressing together.
He stepped back. “You may come with me. If there is danger, jump on me again.”
Sarah blushed, but couldn’t stop her lips from curling up the tiniest bit. Then she remembered the way that freaky plant had jumped and clutched her arms around herself. For a Zyrgin to call a plant a warrior, it had to be seriously bad. There’d been a sense of evil intent about that flower. That was the best way to describe it.
He took her arm. “I did not want you anywhere near the plants. They are dangerous,” he said as he steered her to the door. “We dealt with the plants before. They are deadly.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise to stay close to you the whole time.”
Sarah looked around her, uneasy. “How do you know one of them won’t creep in here?”
“This room is airtight.” They walked through more silver corridor
s until they reached a large, silver cavern with several spaceships. She still wouldn’t be able to find her way back to their room. She stopped and looked up at him. “We forgot the silk balls outside.” She’d been so scared, all she’d thought of was getting away from that plant creature.
“I will have more delivered to our quarters.”
He steered her toward a smallish spaceship and they walked up the ramp. “We’re flying?”
“Yes. We are going to another planet.”
Dazed, she followed him inside and Zaar sat at the controls with Sarah next to him. “So we’re going to another planet? Just like that?” The same as if she’d driven to visit her friends.
“Of course, how else will I talk to the scientists?” He motioned to the back. “I brought the incinerated remains of the warrior plant.”
“Of course,” she agreed ironically and settled in to enjoy the trip. They rose into the air and as they moved, the silver walls around her changed until they all became transparent. Her stomach quivered, but didn’t embarrass her. They rose vertically out of the cavern and then suddenly shot toward the sky. Sarah said a quick prayer. She opened her eyes and her breath caught. Flying through space in such a small craft felt risky; if Zaar wasn’t with her, she’d have had a panic attack. She could see endless black space interspersed with bright objects in the distance. Planets?
She twisted and turned to look at everything around them and Zaar patiently answered all her questions.
At last they approached a planet that looked small compared to Zyrgin. He landed the craft inside another big hanger and they exited the ramp. She’d half expected to see warriors at attention or an honor guard. But the place was deserted. They walked through more silver tunnels until they came to a room that could only be a laboratory. Typically Zyrgin, everything was made of jinz izwe.
A Zyrgin with a silver coat, that looked a lot like a doctor’s coat, turned to face them. Zaar started grating in Zyrgin before she even had time to properly take in her surroundings. The room had long, sterile tables and what looked like formulations running on the walls. Zaar didn’t introduce her and she explored while he and the other Zyrgin talked.
