Alien Redeemed

by Marie Dry

  “No warrior would blame his breeder for not having children,” Zaar said. He looked at his warrior instead of Srinisisa.

  “I do not need small warriors,” the warrior standing so straight behind Srinisisa said. Sarah believed him.

  Srinisisa lifted her chin. “I had no choice, I had to help them.”

  “Your reason does not matter to me. You betrayed the Zyrgin Empire. You will die,” Zaar said.

  Sarah frowned at him. Surely that was too harsh, but she’d keep quiet like she promised. But afterward she’d convince him to show Srinisisa some mercy.

  Srinisisa lowered her head and nodded, something tragic in her quiet acceptance. Still, she hadn’t said anything that would let Sarah trust Srinisisa again. Maybe, if she’d not been in that cell, Cornelius wouldn’t have killed Zorian. And that was on Srinisisa.

  The warrior stepped forward. “I am entitled by law to take my breeder’s punishment. I will die in her place.”

  Srninisisa jumped up. “No,” she screamed. For the first time her reactions rang true.

  Zaar drew his sword and Sarah latched onto his arm. “Please don’t kill him,” Sarah begged.

  “Kill me, my Zyrgin, but please spare my warrior,” Srinisisa screamed. She fell to her knees.

  “No, he dies,” Zaar said.

  “I will tell you everything, but please spare my warrior.”

  “Talk—if you leave anything out, he dies.” He didn’t seem to feel Sarah’s hand on his arm. If he wanted to swing that sword, she wasn’t strong enough to stop him.

  “At first, I only wanted sanctuary, but then last month, they said they would poison my family. That if things went wrong and I told the truth, they would have their agent on Zyrgin kill my warrior after they dealt with my family on my home world,” Srinisisa babbled. “Please spare him—take my life instead.”

  Sarah didn’t know if she should believe her. The only honest emotion she noted in Srinisisa was her love for her warrior.

  Zaar stared down at Srinisisa, showing even less emotion than normal. “I want the name of the Zyrgin agent.”

  Srinisisa stared up at him and then rattled off a name. “Coralinda said he’s watching me and if I didn’t do as they said, he’d kill my warrior.”

  After a long, tense silence, he turned to the warrior who stood tall and straight next to Srinisisa, his hand on her shoulder. That supportive touch from a warrior, who belonged to a race that revered honor, told her how much he cared for Srinisisa.

  Zaar and Srinisisa’s warrior grunted at each other. Then Zaar stood and grunted; she’d come to learn that meant he was talking into some kind of device she couldn’t see.

  When they’d finished, Zaar turned to Srinisisa. “Your warrior will be responsible for you. Any treasonous behaviour from you, and he will be executed.”

  “I will not fail him.” Her lips trembled. “My family?” Maybe her family was threatened. If Zorian hadn’t died, Sarah would’ve been more sympathetic.

  “Their agent on Zyrgin has been arrested a few minutes ago,” Zaar said. Sarah wouldn’t want to be that agent right now.

  Zaar took Sarah’s arm and they walked to the door.

  “Forgive me, parena,” Srinisisa said softly.

  Sarah turned and stared at the woman who’d pretended to be her friend. She trusted Zaar and the warriors he trusted with her life, but never again would she trust this woman. “I forgive you,” she said. This she could give her.

  They left and walked back to their quarters. Sarah had wanted to be outside, to explore so badly, but now she just wanted to be safe in her home.

  “I don’t believe most of what she said and I don’t know if it’s because she brought me coffee and smiled sweetly at me while she drugged me. Or because she put me in a basket and walked out with me without blinking an eye.”

  “She will not have another chance to betray us,” Zaar promised.

  “I feel sorry for your warrior,” she said. Something occurred to her. “It won’t harm his career will it?”

  “No, he is a good warrior.”

  They reached their apartment and she sighed with relief when they were safely inside.

  “You have to eat now,” Zaar said. He seated her at the table and went to the door and took their plates from the guard.

  “How do they know when to have the food ready?”

  “Superior Zyrgin knowledge,” he said and placed the plates on the table and sat down.

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “Does it bother you that I don’t cook? I’ve never been any good in the kitchen.”

  “No, I have synthesizers and warriors to provide food.” His eyes gleamed. “Having a parena that produces better silk than the Aurlians is much better.”

  Sarah smiled down at her plate. She had a lot of plans for the spider silk he kept bringing her. “I’m glad to eat spider eggs again, but I wouldn’t mind some variety.” She picked up a purple fruit. “Do you think maybe I’ve acclimated enough that I can eat this without throwing up?”

  “Maybe try a small piece,” he said and cut off a minute bite and fed it to her.

  Sarah smiled and licked his finger before swallowing. The fruit fell like a rock into her stomach. “Nope, it’s spider eggs for me.”

  Sarah looked at his bloody meat and for one moment, she wanted it, craved it. She blinked and the sensation was gone.

  Zaar suddenly extended his arm with a graceful motion and opened his hand. “You do not have to try and eat Zyrgin fruit. Or only spider eggs. Have an apple instead.”

  Sarah stared at the large, red apple in his hand that shined like a polished gem. “A real apple?” She breathed, half convinced she was hallucinating.

  “Yes.”

  She reached out and stroked her fingers down the side of the luscious fruit he still held in his hand. “My father brought home apples once. They say that there was a time that you could buy apples in all the shops and market places.” She shrugged. “They’re scarce now. I don’t know of anyone that had one in years.”

  Sarah took the apple from him and just held it for a while. She took a small bite, loving the crunchy sound it made; sensation exploded on her tongue; sweet and tarty flavors mixed on her tongue, the texture crisp, her eyes closed from the sheer pleasure of tasting an apple at last. “It’s even better than I thought it’d be.” She opened her eyes and his blazed red crimson at her. Her body quickened.

  “You did not eat the apples your father brought home?”

  “No, they were for him and my stepmother, but my mouth had watered watching her eat it.”

  He growled something, but she was too busy taking another bigger bite to worry about it. Again, that lovely crunching sound when she tore out a chunk of apple. “Where did you get this? Did a supply ship bring it?” She knew it was greedy, but she was going to ask him if he could bring in more apples with the next supply ship going to Earth. It would be worth the wait.

  “I consulted with Zacar, who consulted with his breeder, and she said that planting an orchard would be the best. That was done and you now have an apple orchard.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open, the apple in her frozen hand in front of her mouth. She swallowed. “You planted an apple orchard for me? But how did you get the trees here?” She looked at the apple in her hand. “How did you get it to carry apples so soon?” She didn’t even think he’d paid attention to her when she told him about wanting an apple.

  “Superior Zyrgin technology,” he said, as if planting an apple orchid on an alien planet was nothing extraordinary.

  Sarah laughed. “Please show me.”

  “Eat your apple first.”

  She savored the apple, taking small bites and chewing slowly, enjoying the burst of taste on her tongue. He watched her beneath lazy eyes, his fangs gleaming through his lips. When she’d finished, Zaar made quick work of his meat and went to go to the bathroom. He walked with that exaggerated slow step he used when they were alone. She smiled; he didn’t realize but every now and then he�
�d forget and he’d be a blur or he’d disappear and reappear in a different place in the room.

  She watched him thoughtfully and abruptly stood. It was time to put a stop to this. “Zaar?”

  He turned to face her. “Yes, my breeder.”

  Sarah walked up to him, reached up to draw his head down, and kissed him. A delicious open-mouthed kiss. The taste of raw meat lingered in his mouth and she must be going crazy, because she loved the taste. She’d meant to make a statement and had been determined to endure the strange taste of the Zyrgin meat. Instead she savored it.

  He deepened the kiss and her feet left the ground. At last they broke apart and she put her hands on his cheeks. “You don’t have to rush to take a shower every time you want to come near me, or brush your teeth.” She frowned. “Well, of course you want to brush your teeth, but you can kiss me, even if you haven’t brushed since the morning.”

  He set her down and leaned his forehead against hers. “I am honored to have a breeder like you.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Now please show me my apple orchard.”

  They left their rooms and turned left and stopped in front of the wall that looked like a dead end. “The door will open if you press your palm against it. Whenever you go to your orchard on your own, follow the arrows.” Bright jinz izwe arrows pointed the way.

  They went through the back tunnels and she eyed the spiders, but after evil plants and traitors, they didn’t scare her half as much. Still, she wouldn’t want to be alone in here. She clung to Zaar’s hand. She didn’t think he realized how naturally he held her hand now.

  After several twists and turns, they reached a huge cavern. Sarah stopped and stared. A large dome dominated the center of the cave. At first, she thought it was made from glass, but it pulsed softly over the green patch. Inside the dome, there was fertile soil that provided nourishment to the trees and light that imitated sunlight shining down on trees that bloomed with red and green apples.

  “Okay, I admit it, Zyrgin technology is superior to any other in the universe.” She turned to him, held his hand to her chest. “Oh Zaar, this is the best present anyone has ever given me.”

  He gently pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.“The trees could grow outside, but it would expose you. I doubt anyone would dare try to harm you again, but I will not give my enemies another chance to take you.”

  She touched her stomach. “I agree, our son will be a strong warrior one day. But until then, I will do nothing to risk him.”

  “You can enter through the shield. It will not harm you or our small warrior.”

  Sarah walked through the barrier while he stood outside, watching her every move. It felt as if something sucked at her and then she was through. This was unreal. She walked in her own orchard with at least thirty trees that carried enough apples to last her a year. She’d dreamed so long about tasting even one. “Can I give some of it to the other women?”

  “Yes.” Zaar leaned against the cave wall and patiently waited while she walked around the orchard, touching the bark of the trees, the smooth leaves and gleaming red and green apples. She picked a few apples and then walked through the shield again. “I’m ready to go home. Thank you, Zaar, I love this.”

  He took the apples and she noticed he didn’t make them disappear, but carried them in a bag he produced out of thin air. He took her hand with his free one and they returned to their quarters.

  “Are the wounded warriors all right?” It had been worrying her ever since she woke. Did their wounds pain them? Were they treated well?

  “They are not your concern.”

  She frowned up at him. “Of course I’m concerned about them—they were so brave and strong, but when that awful Aurelian burned them with the acid from the plants, they were more upset over the scars than the awful torture and pain they endured.” Guilt ate at her. “When Cornelius threatened me, and said the warriors could take the torture for me, I objected.” She bent her head, shame warming her cheeks. “I should’ve protested more.”

  He lifted her chin with his rough forefinger. “You have to accept that any Zyrgin warrior would die to protect you.”

  “But I don’t want anyone to die for me.” She placed her hands over his and they barely covered his knuckles and half of the top of his hand. “It was so awful. Cornelius burned one of the warriors and the acid went into his skin—it destroyed his eye through the closed lid. He didn’t scream, just sort of grunted, but the sound of the acid burning him, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She shuddered. “I don’t want anyone ever again to be tortured for me.” She stared up at him, his face hazy through her tears. “They must hate me.”

  “They do not hate you. You cannot understand the privilege a warrior feels to protect a breeder.”

  “It’s not a privilege to have your eye burned in its socket, your hand deformed with acid, your ear burned off,” she said bitterly.

  “Yes, my breeder. Even that is a privilege. I can assure you, all my warriors feel pride in the fact that you came back with only bruises that will heal.” His eyes narrowed. Sarah knew he was thinking of Cornelius, probably wanted to kill him all over again. Right this moment, she’d help him.

  “Where are the warriors now? Are they all right. Could your medical people heal them? Maybe I can help them find women.”

  Zaar hesitated to answer and dread settled in her stomach. It must be bad if he didn’t want to tell her about it. “They will never find breeders now.”

  She frowned up at him. “Why not?”

  He stood taller. “Females will think them ugly to look at.” Pride in every word.

  “I want to see them,” she demanded.

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  She opened her eyes wide and stared up at him, put her hands on his chest.

  “Please, Zaar.”

  “They would not want to see you.”

  “I don’t believe that. We formed a bond in that jail cell. I have to know that they’re all right. Maybe they’d like to see that I’m all right. Please, I have to see for myself that they’re all right.”

  He hesitated and her heartbeat sped up. He was considering it.

  “Tell me why being scarred is such a terrible thing for a warrior. Surely they get scars in all those battles you’re always fighting in.”

  “Centuries ago, with genetic manipulation and combined with the superior genes of a warrior, we ensured that a warrior did not scar easily. It became a symbol of pride. The mark of a good warrior is the ability to leave a mark on the enemy, but to never be scarred himself.”

  This was awful. Even worse than she’d thought. “And that horrible man left marks on them.”

  “No breeder would want them now. We are different from the races we rule. Their women think us ugly and primitive and brutal with our eyes changing color and claws like that of animals.”

  He was so arrogant all the time—did he believe himself ugly? Sarah rose on tiptoes and cupped his jaw in her hands. “You are the handsomest male I’ve ever met. To me you’re beautiful and if you were scarred in battle, I’d still want you.”

  His gaze blazed with emotion. “I did not want to have another breeder. But you used magic tricks on me. From the first time I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful female in the universe and the most intruiging. I had to return to see what interesting thing you will do next.”

  He kissed her and she forgot about everything but him. When they came up for air at last, she leaned her head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.

  “I want to see the warriors,” she said again.

  He hesitated. “They choose to live in seclusion now.”

  “Tough, I’m their parena and they’d better see me.” She thought about the months after she’d left the camps. If she still suffered from PTSD, what did they go through? She doubted PTSD was even a condition they acknowledged.

  He stared down at her for a long time. “I will t
ake you to them,” he said, when she’d convinced herself that he’d refuse. She suddenly didn’t feel up to the task she’d set for herself. What if she was doing the wrong thing? Who was she to interfere in their ways?

  He took her back into the mountain and past their quarters and through several twists and turns, until they stopped in front of another endless silver wall. She still couldn’t make out any seams in the wall, but it parted to reveal a large, silver room devoid of any furniture.

  In the raider camp, she’d seen many horrifying things. But seeing the five horrifically scarred warriors sit on a bare floor with their swords in front of them was like a punch to the gut. They sat proud and straight, and still she thought them tragic and lonely.

  They got to their feet and saluted Zaar, but didn’t look at Sarah. She didn’t take offence, knew by now that it was a sign of respect. It was considered the height of rudeness to look at another man’s breeder.

  Sarah bit her lip, her knees feeling weak. Maybe this was not such a good idea. What could she possibly say to them? She was just a seamstress from a small town. Calling her a parena didn’t magically transform her into an empress who knew how to handle these sorts of situations. She looked at them, really looked at them, and the words tumbled out of her mouth. “I have scars, as well.”

  They all froze in place, their eyes locking on her, then returned to stare in front of them. She’d hoped the doctor could heal them. Natalie had told her once that they burned their wounds with a flame and it healed without leaving a scar. What kind of acid did those plants bleed that it would leave scars on these tough warriors? How could mere plants do so much harm when they were immune to most other weapons? It was almost as if those plants had been created specifically to destroy Zyrgins.

  “I was very afraid when they put me in that cell on Aurelia,” she said softly. “You probably don’t know this, but when I was still on Earth, I was sold into raider camps where I was hurt terribly.” She swallowed. She really didn’t want to talk about that. But for these warriors she would. “That’s where I got my scars.”