by Marie Dry
“Do you consider yourself more human than Zyrgin?” Zorlof acted more human than any of the warriors born on Earth. It was an interesting development in one who contained such power.
Zorlof sighed, again sounding very human.
Zorlof slowly lowered the laser. “I’m Zyrgin, but I don’t want to rule your empire.”
Zaar didn’t relax his guard. His own power would’ve driven him to challenge the Zyrgin all those centuries ago, if his closest blood hadn’t come to kill him. That instinct, that drove Zyrgins, hissed at him to kill Zorlof before his powers developed. Before he became too strong to kill. “You do not feel the instinct that drives you to challenge and kill me?” he asked.
Zorlof shrugged and again it was a very human gesture. Zaar wasn’t fooled. This young one wasn’t as uncaring as he pretended to be. “Yes, I feel it, but I refuse to be ruled by it. You are my grandfather. Killing you would be wrong.”
Zaar grabbed the newly third-change warrior and lifted him. “I will allow you to leave in this ship Zacar had built for you. Know this, if you return or if I find you in a galaxy I rule, I will kill you.” There was no way around it. The Zyrgin Empire wasn’t big enough to hold them both.
Zorlof held his gaze. “I will come to visit my mother.”
Zaar thought of what Sarah would say.
Zaar returned to Zyrgin and used the two hours it would take Zorlof to get back to Earth to discuss their new duties with the scars.
When he materialized in Zacar’s home, he found Natalie clutching Zorlof. She turned when Zaar appeared.
“Are you going to kill my son?” Natalie asked and stood in front of Zorlof, as if her frail human body could protect him. Zacar stepped forward, half in front of Natalie, who held onto Zorlof with a desperate grip.
“We will come to an agreement,” Zaar said. Pride for his son and grandson surged through him. Along with the word parena, he’d decree that instead of closest blood, in future they would talk about a grandfather and father and sons.
“What kind of agreement?” Zacar asked.
For the first time it struck him that Zacar had to choose between his son and his father. Strange how much worse it seemed when you used those human words to describe blood bonds. No Zyrgin should have to kill his father and his grandson in one lifetime.
“You cannot stay,” he said.
Zorlof stiffened and Zaar knew he’d hoped for some way to be able to stay. “Why not?” Natalie asked.
He ignored Natalie, as was proper, and addressed Zorlof. But he spoke Standard Galactic so that Natalie could understand. “Normally a Zyrgin takes over the rule after the death, the normal death of the ruling Zyrgin. But when two Zyrgins, with such powers as ours, are alive at the same time, they will be driven by the instinct to fight to the death.”
“I see,” Zorlof said and he looked painfully young.
“What is your destination?” he asked Zorlof.
“I’m going to enter a stable wormhole and travel beyond the unclaimed galaxies.” Again, he heard the loneliness in that young voice. It was a good thing Sarah wasn’t here. She’d have insisted that Zorlof stay. And that was impossible.
Zaar didn’t make the mistake of relaxing his guard. He kept Zorlof in his sights. “And what will you do once you reach your destination?”
Cold eyes, Zyrgin eyes stared into his. “I will become The Zyrgin of the unknown galaxies. They will pay tribute to me.”
Zaar didn’t doubt Zorlof’s ability to conquer another galaxy by himself. Before Sarah, he would’ve envied Zorlof the adventure, the challenge. But Sarah, her soft body, the way she looked at him, as if he was the handsomest male in the universe, the way she fought for his scarred warriors, tried to help all the breeders, was better than any adventure. No, he didn’t want to travel alone to another galaxy to conquer it.
“If you stay on your side of the unclaimed galaxies, I will allow you to live. You even think of entering my territory after you leave, and I will kill you.”
Again, Zorlof didn’t back down. Zaar felt the barest hint of new power coming off him. “I will come to see my mother.”
“You would risk your life for her?”
“She is my mother,” Zorlof said.
Natalie wiped away tears.
“Have you gained your abilities yet?” he asked Zorlof.
“No.”
He was lying and Zaar would’ve done the same. Zyrgins born with extraordinary abilities rarely developed the same powers.
“Master your abilities. It used to be the Zyrgin was the strongest among us. He would be stronger and faster than the other warriors. I suspect it is the centuries of genetic manipulation that has caused the supernatural powers to appear in some Zyrgins. My ability manifested after my second change. It took me more than a century to master it.” He’d had to train himself not to appear at any place he thought of.
Zorlof shrugged. “So, you’re slow. I don’t care.”
He should kill Zorlof right now for challenging him, not appreciating the leniency he was showing by talking to him. He extended his claws. “I can still kill you.”
Zorlof extended his claws, as well. “You could kill me or I might get lucky and get in a death blow.”
“Please,” Natalie whispered.
Zaar felt a surge of pride for this blood of his blood. His grandson. He didn’t want to kill his closest blood again. He was becoming a weak, sentimental Zyrgin.
“You will request permission every time you enter my territory. If I find you here without permission you die.” He deliberately spoke in Standard Galactic. Natalie drew in a sharp breath.
“The same goes for you. You want to come into my territory, you get permission first,” Zorlof said. Too young and too human to know not to push, he smirked and added, “Grandpa.”
Zaar moved, immobilized Zorlof, and held him with his claws at his neck. “Do not for one moment think you can take defeat me. Conquer a galaxy before you hand me ultimatums.” He might not want to kill Zorlof, but that didn’t mean he’d take insolence from him.
Zorlof held absolutely still. Those cold Zyrgin eyes looking for a weakness to exploit.
Natalie moaned and he heard Zacar draw his sword; still Zorlof didn’t show any fear, simply waited for an opening to strike. Zaar felt such pride in his blood. He’d produced true. He pushed Zorlof back. “You may spend the day with…your parents.”
The next day, he materialized in the sleek new ship Zacar had built for his son. Zorlof had to leave, but Zaar wanted to send this blood of his blood on his way, armed with knowledge.
Again, Zorlof turned to face him, a laser weapon in his hand.
“Steer clear of the travelers. Those purple pests are hard to kill.” He forced himself to say the rest. “If they dispute a territory you want to claim, let them have it.” He’d like to wipe them out of the universe, but apart from the fact that the travelers had managed to keep the location of their planet hidden, their technology was far more advanced. Their origins shrouded in mystery. They were the only race the Zyrgin Empire couldn’t conquer. Yet.
Zorlof nodded, that strange bobbing motion with his head that all his warriors on Earth had adopted.
Zaar smiled. The smile Sarah called frightening. “If you can find a way to get your hands on their technology, you can build a truly great empire.” He’d tried for years, without success, to get his hands on anything created by the travelers.
Zorlof shrugged. “I will rule, with or without their technology.”
There was nothing more to say.
Zaar returned—one moment he was on the ship and the next he was back on Zyrgin. He’d never been able to understand how he managed it in scientific terms. He thought of it and it happened.
28
Sarah added another stitch to the knitting needle, the clicking sounds they made soothing. It had been wonderful to talk to Natalie and Julia, but now she missed them and Earth so much her chest ached. And yet if she had the choice, she wouldn’t go back. Maybe for a visit,
but not permanently.
Knitting was something the women here didn’t know, though they did similar work with odd-looking pins and silk. She’d promised to knit them parena-style sweaters and the orders were piling up. At first she’d thought to train one of the other women to knit, but that didn’t help her get all the orders out. She now had six women working busily in their homes to produce the new parena-style fashion. Sarah’s business was growing at a rate she found difficult to cope with.
A loud banging sounded before the door opened. Sarah smiled—she still didn’t know if he did it to tease her. She lowered her knitting, watched as Zaar entered and started to pace. He didn’t press his forehead against hers and that was a bad sign.
“Is something wrong? Are the Aurelians up to something?”
“They are always up to something.” He snorted. “It is a good way to describe their actions, but they do not bother me.” A flashed fang. “I bother them.”
“What’s wrong?” She sucked in a breath. “It’s those awful plants, isn’t it?” His warriors had found them on most of the planets. They’d erected forcefields that killed the plants.
He turned and paced in the opposite direction. “We found evidence that the plants that originated from the unknown galaxies are sent here for a deliberate invasion.”
“You mean there are people in the unknown galaxies, sending those plants to harm us?”
“Yes, they would do more than harm us. Unchecked, they will multiply and overrun a planet. Within three years, the planet they infested will be uninhabitable for humanoid species.”
Sarah held her hand to her chest. She’d hoped the patrols would keep those awful plants from causing harm. “That’s horrific—what are you going to do?”
“I have asked for volunteers to conquer the planets in the unknown galaxies.” There was something in his voice she couldn’t pin down. But the hair on her body stood upright.
Sarah put away her knitting and stood. “Are you afraid they will be killed?”
Zaar came to her and pulled her close. “They are my closest blood—they all volunteered.”
His sons. Those Zyrgins she hadn’t even met because they were stationed on planets too far for them to come to Zyrgin often. “Why does it have to be them? I’d think you’d want to keep them safe.” She held up her hand when he swung to face her. “I know, I know, they’re warriors and strong and you have honor. Whatever. Why are you sending them? You can just insist other warriors go?”
“They are from my blood—they could be strong enough to survive the plants in the unknown galaxies.”
“What if there’s thousands of those acid plants on the planets there?” Nightmare images of acid burning through copper-green flesh flashed through her mind.
“They will conquer or die,” he said bleakly.
Sarah rubbed her stomach. It would be awful to die alone on an alien planet, their last memory of the pain of acid wounds. “Do you have to conquer the unknown galaxies? Couldn’t you just make sure none of the plants end up here?”
He swung to face her. “No Zyrgin warrior would―”
His gaze fell to her hand rubbing her stomach. This pregnancy was progressing a lot faster than it should and she’d give anything to speak to a human doctor. “Are you well?”
She shrugged. “My back aches a bit and he’s moving around like crazy in here, but I’m all right.”
He grunted and she knew she was about to have another odd doctor’s visit where the poor man didn’t dare get close to her while Zaar growled at him the whole time.
“When are they leaving?” she asked to get him away from the subject of her health.
“I have sent them to their deaths.”
Sarah blinked. “They’ve gone already?”
“Yes. They left this morning. I cannot delay them—the plants are getting more and more aggressive.”
She smoothed out the crease in the shoulder of his uniform and then cupped his cheek. “You don’t know that they are going to their death. If I know one thing about you Zyrgins, it’s that you are strong. They will conquer those nasty plants, you’ll see.”
He drew her into his arms and shuddered. “They are my…sons.”
“They’ll be all right.” Sarah smiled up at him. “They have your blood and that means they’re too stubborn not to survive, my fierce warrior.”
“I am your parenadorz, your leader, your Zyrgin.”
She smiled and traced the ridge on his head. “Why don’t I call you my darling?”
He kissed her. “You will call me Zaar. But my darling is acceptable.”
“It is time for third meal,” he told her.
Sarah licked her lips. She’d been aware of a gnawing hunger for the last hour. “Lead on—I’m so hungry I could eat an ox.”
She sat down at the table and Zaar went to get their food at the door and brought it over to the table. She only ate meat now and from the way his eyes flashed, she knew Zaar loved cutting it for her and feeding her.
Today, although she enjoyed her food as usual, something was preying on her mind. Every time the doctor came, he and Zaar stood talking and she knew something bothered them. Whenever she asked, he’d say her small warrior was all right. But she knew something was wrong. “Zaar?”
“Yes.”
“What is really wrong with my baby?”
“The small warrior is not developing as it should. We are concerned it will be born without a mind.”
Sarah could feel the blood drain out of her face. The room spun around her and she saw Zaar’s lips move, but she couldn’t hear him. Her baby was in trouble.
Abruptly she heard again, “It is only a slight concern. Normally our small warriors inherit no characteristics of their mothers. Our small warrior has many human characteristics,” Zaar said.
“Promise me you won’t keep anything from me. I want to know, even if it is bad news.”
He hesitated, then he came around and drew her up into his arms. “I promise.”
29
Months later Sarah lay tired but happy and held out her hands. The birth had been easier than she’d thought it would be. “Give him to me, doctor,” she said. Zaar had left her side when the doctor took her child, with the promise to give him to her as soon as he’d been cleaned and checked.
She sat up a little. The doctor ran a scanner over a small, green wriggling body lying on a silver slab opposite to the one she lay on. Zaar stood next to the doctor and something in the way they grunted at each other bothered her.
“Is something wrong with my baby?” Cold fingers clamped over her heart and squeezed.
Zaar turned to her. “The doctor found some unusual readings.”
“What kind of unusual readings?” If they didn’t tell her what was going on she was going to scream and kick and punch—she’d hurt them no matter how tough they were—until they told her what was happening.
“The doctor will be finished soon.”
“Give me my baby. Now!” Her eyes widened in sheer horror. “What are you doing?” she screamed.
Everything happened at once. The scars ran into the room, swords drawn. Zaar roared at them. Sarah was only vaguely aware of all this. Her horrified gaze was glued to the doctor who carried her baby by the feet, which he held clamped between a thumb and a forefinger.
She leaned forward and took her baby and carefully righted him and held him close against her chest. She stared down at him and her eyes widened. Her—it was a little girl.
The scars took one last look at her and then left the room with obvious reluctance. They’d been diligent in their duties as her guard. To Zaar’s chagrin.
Zaar seemed a bit dazed and that wasn’t a state she thought to ever see him in. “It is a small—” He stopped and tried again. “It is a small female.”
“I thought you couldn’t have girls.”
The doctor bowed low. “The prophecy has come true—the Zyrgin has regained his honor,” he said reverently.
Zaar sta
red down at Sarah with such blazing love in his eyes, she blinked back tears. She looked down at her baby. Dark eyes stared up at her from a human face. “Oh Zaar, she has your musculature and green-and-copper skin.” She traced the little head. “And she has a ridge,” she said, delighted. “You are my beautiful little girl,” she whispered.
“I will protect her—I will not allow anyone to demand she die,” Zaar said suddenly.
“What? Why would anyone demand that?” Sarah cried out and the scars stormed into the room again.
Zaar roared and Sarah stared down at her baby to hide her smile. No one was going to hurt her baby with Zaar and her scars around. There was no reason to harm her—she was perfect. The scars left again and Zaar turned toward her.
He gently traced their baby’s ridge with his big forefinger. “She is the first female born in centuries, but she is also weak and her brain―”
Cold fear clamped down on her heart. And fierce determination. It didn’t matter what they said was wrong with her, she’d love her baby. “What about her brain?”
He stared down at their daughter. “It is brain-damaged.”
“Brain-damaged? Are you sure?” Dread settled in her stomach. She stared down at her baby peacefully sleeping in her arms.
“She cannot walk and shows no ability to speak. We tried several times and she did not react.” His finger moved to her cheek, traced her lips. “She was also born without teeth.”
Sarah felt hope. She’d laugh out loud if what she suspected was true. “Doctor, do you know anything about human babies?”
The doctor kept a respectful distance. “No, it was not necessary—our small warriors are always born Zyrgin.”
“This is not a small warrior. She might look like a Zyrgin, but she’s like a human baby. I don’t think she’s brain-damaged.” She smiled up at Zaar. “Humans are born without teeth. It grows in after a while.”
He bared his teeth. “That is truly re—”
“What?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Truly remarkable.”
She looked around and frowned. “I need a baby blanket.” Throughout her pregnancy, Zaar had impressed upon her that she would give birth to a small warrior. That she shouldn’t knit baby blankets and clothes for him. She’d secretly knitted some blankets and clothes she’d hidden among her stuff. At least her daughter wouldn’t go naked.
