Fallen from the Stars

by Tiffany Roberts

  He released a soft grunt. “Halora was colonized by humans over three hundred and fifty years ago.”

  Theo narrowed her eyes. More than three hundred and fifty years? There was no way the IDC didn’t know about this place. Halora should have been either a thriving colony or totally abandoned by now. It didn’t make any sense.

  “Kane, are you sure there is nothing on file about this?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Kane said, sounding perplexed for once instead of smug.

  “The IDC came first,” Vasil said, “and while they were here, they created my kind. A few decades later, they left and never returned.”

  Theo raised her hands, palms out. “Hold up. So when you say they created you—”

  “They had a lab where they combined characteristics from different creatures. They used…octopus, is what Arkon said. And human.”

  Human.

  She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted, and jaw slack.

  He’s part human, she sent through her neural link with Kane.

  “Human DNA doesn’t necessarily make him human,” Kane replied, sounding oddly unconvinced.

  He said his kind mated with humans, Theo replied.

  “And…we don’t know what the term means to him. It likely just means sexual intercourse. The likelihood of humans and these creatures being able to reproduce—”

  “Can you have babies with humans?” Theo blurted out.

  Vasil recoiled, eyes going wide. His mouth opened as though he meant to speak, but no sound emerged.

  “That’s a yes,” Theo declared. “Holy fuck.”

  She spun away, running a hand through her hair. The IDC had been modifying humans for a long time — they’d eradicated most disease, given people longer lifespans, and made everyone generally more resilient — but that was a far cry from creating a new species!

  What had the IDC been thinking? It’s like they’d been playing God!

  “I did not say yes!” Vasil said.

  “You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.” Theo plopped back down on the seat. “Oh, man. They broke so many laws.”

  “Yes, they did,” Kane said through the speaker, “which means you need to think about this very carefully, Theo.”

  “No shit. If this is why there’s no information about this planet, that means they were trying to hide what they did.”

  “And now we are aware of it.” Kane’s words were punctuated by heavy silence.

  “No,” Theo said after a while. “No, they wouldn’t do anything to us for that, Kane. This stuff happened hundreds of years ago.”

  “They must never know about this,” Vasil said, leaning through the doorway. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “You were telling me the truth when you said you have no means of communicating with them, were you not?”

  “Like I said, if we had the means, we’d be waiting to be picked up right now.” She bent forward and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Why? Why would they go through the trouble and risk of creating you and then just leave?”

  He inhaled deeply. Her eyes dipped to his chest of their own accord, sliding over his large, sculpted muscles.

  “Because there was a war. Out there,” Vasil said, turning his head as though to indicate the sky — but not before she caught his gaze falter.

  “Given his suggested time frame, it could’ve been the Fringeworld Rebellion,” said Kane.

  The Fringeworld Rebellion was ancient history, and she’d never attended school. All she knew about it was that a whole mess of planets on the edges of IDC territory had joined forces to rebel against the Interstellar Defense Coalition back in the early days. They’d lost. History wasn’t a necessary subject when your only job was to make sure the ship’s engine didn’t explode.

  “There’s an and, isn’t there, Vasil?” Theo asked.

  Vasil nodded and met her eyes again. “And around the same time, my people rose up against the humans and killed many of them.”

  Theo dropped her left hand, holding it just over the pistol propped against the side of her seat. “You might want to expand upon that before I draw my own conclusions.”

  His gaze flicked briefly to the weapon. If he was afraid, it didn’t show in his expression; the silver of his eyes was a hard, cold gray in this light, like the hull of an old battlecruiser. She knew he was fast, and though she was sure of her aim, he was close enough that she’d only get off a single shot if she was lucky.

  Something told her that wouldn’t be enough.

  “I should not tell you any of this,” he said, his tone measured and even. “You are one of them.”

  “And you just told me your people slaughtered a bunch of humans. If you were looking to gain my trust, that is definitely not the way to go.”

  “It is the truth. Can I trust you with the rest of it?”

  Theo picked up the pistol and rested it in her lap without looking away from him. “You should be glad I haven’t shot you yet.”

  “You have the gun, Theo, but you do not have the advantage here,” Kane said in her mind.

  I know that, she sent through the neural link, but he needs to know I’m not going to cower when he says shit like that. It’s not like I have much of a choice, either. I’m just…setting some boundaries.

  Vasil’s jaw muscles bulged, and his features tightened. Theo knew he was conflicted, but she guessed he wasn’t concerned about the possibility of taking a gunshot; the stakes, at least to him, were greater than that. She’d seen that sort of look too often during her youth to fool herself into thinking he was afraid of her.

  “My people were kept as slaves,” he said through pointed teeth. Theo’s eyes widened. “We were used as tools, as subjects for experiments, and our intelligence and free will were ignored. They designed us to be controlled both in action and number, but they underestimated us. Their cruelty and indifference sparked something in my ancestors that drove us to revolt.”

  “Oh.” She stared at him, lips parted, shocked by what she’d just heard. The IDC had done that? They’d created a whole new species using human DNA just to be used as slaves? As horrible as it was to hear that his people had killed humans, she honestly couldn’t blame them if what he’d just told her was true.

  Who was she to judge, anyway? Theo wasn’t innocent. There was blood on her hands, too.

  She could easily recall the feelings of helplessness, fear, and rage from her youth.

  “That…defies logic,” Kane said through the console speaker. “Why violate interstellar laws and create a new species to use as slaves when the IDC had access to all sorts of equipment that could’ve done any necessary work? Even then, robotics were advanced enough to fulfill almost any role, and the IDC hasn’t been opposed to using prisoners for labor in the past.”

  “That doesn’t make it right, Kane,” Theo said, frowning at the console.

  “I didn’t say it was right, only that I doubt its veracity.”

  “I do not know that word,” Vasil said, brows falling low.

  “He thinks you’re lying,” Theo said.

  “My honesty is being questioned by a computer that lives like a parasite inside a human?”

  “Kane is not a parasite.” She glared at Vasil, pressing her lips together.

  “Perhaps you should use that pistol,” Kane said.

  Vasil clamped his hands over the hatch frame and leaned close, teeth bared. A low, rumbling growl rose from his chest. The pod groaned; how much force was he exerting?

  Heart fluttering, Theo raised the pistol and aimed at his chest, but he didn’t so much as glance at it. For the first time, she was truly afraid of him. “You’re really pushing the benefit of the doubt to its limits, kraken. You are the unknown entity, here. I’ve been with Kane a long time. I trust him.”

  “And you, human, are alive because of me,” Vasil snarled. Theo’s eyes rounded further as a red tint overcame his skin. “How long do you think you would survive this world without my help? I chose to help you at r
isk to myself without a second thought but sharing this information with you risks everyone I know and care about.

  “Fire your gun. If you do not kill me with the first shot, I will end you. I do not want to harm you, Theodora. Do not make yourself my enemy.”

  Theo stared at him, skin tingling with fear, chest rising and falling rapidly with shallow breaths. She tightened her grip on the pistol but did not pull the trigger. A faint tremor ran through her arm.

  “I was wrong, Theo. Put it down,” Kane whispered in her mind. She’d never heard fear in his voice before now.

  Keeping her gaze locked with Vasil’s, she slowly lowered her weapon and placed it on the floor. She raised her empty hands, showing the kraken her palms, before settling them in her lap.

  “I didn’t call you here to threaten you or your people,” Theo said, struggling to keep her voice calm and steady. “I just want to understand. I’m stuck on an alien planet with no way to get back to the life I knew, and you’re the only person who can give me any answers. I’m lost, Vasil. I’m just trying to find my footing and figure out whether or not I can trust you.”

  A strange sensation tightened her chest. Saying it out loud made her realize just how lost she was. She was stranded. Her life would never be the same again — not unless she found some way to get a message sent out into the cosmos and it happened to be received by friendly forces. The odds of that seemed abysmal at the moment.

  “I have saved your life twice.” Vasil’s voice was low. “Is that not enough for a start?”

  Well now, don’t I just feel like a shitty person?

  Cheeks heating, Theo ran her hand through her hair, tugging the loose strands to rest over her shoulder. “Yes, it is. And I’ve done a bad job thanking you for it.” She inhaled deeply, and slowly released the breath. “Is there…any chance you can take me to see the humans?”

  “I cannot.”

  Telling herself cannot was at least better than will not, Theo nodded.

  Vasil stared into her eyes for a long while, neither advancing nor retreating. The pod seemed entirely too small, even without him fully inside it, and the air was unbearably thick with tension. Theo felt self-conscious, uncomfortable, judged. She was on the verge of asking him to leave so she could rest when he finally spoke.

  “There is something on this world called halorium,” he said. “The IDC wanted it. I think it served as some sort of never-ending power source. But it interferes with human devices and makes them fail. They created us because their machines could not work near halorium.”

  Theo was silent for a time, then inclined her head. “Thank you, Vasil. For telling us.”

  Vasil nodded.

  Ahem. Kane? she pulsed through the link.

  “I should not have jumped to conclusions before you shared more of your story,” Kane said aloud. “Please accept my apologies. I did not mean to provoke you.”

  Yes, you did.

  “I am trying to do the right thing, Theodora. I’m swallowing my pride for you. If I had a throat, I’d be choking right now.”

  Theo frowned.

  Vasil’s lips fell into a frown to mirror hers.

  Theo stood and closed the small space separating her from the kraken. Up close, it was impossible not to notice how large he was. She couldn’t stop her eyes from straying over the muscles of his abdomen and chest before they finally met his gaze.

  She swallowed and extended a hand. “It’s late. Maybe we can start over tomorrow?”

  He looked at her hand, his expression shifting to something unreadable.

  She cleared her throat. “If you’re not accustomed to the gesture, you—”

  “I am familiar with it,” he said hurriedly.

  “Oh. Okay, then.” Theo began lowering her hand.

  Vasil reached forward and took her hand in his — his hand engulfed hers almost entirely, but it was surprisingly warm and gentle. She’d expected cold, slimy skin befitting a sea creature, not smooth velvet over firm muscle.

  As she stared at their hands, something spread through her fingers and along her arm. Something…arousing. It heated her from the inside out, soon swirling low in her belly. The sensation was as tantalizing as it was shocking. It didn’t seem to matter that he had claws that could rip her to shreds or teeth made for tearing into meat.

  Theo snatched her hand back. She cleared her throat, retreated a couple steps, and offered him a smile. “I suppose this is goodnight.”

  For a few moments, he held his hand in the air, turned slightly as he stared at his palm. Then he shook his head as though waking from a trance. He pulled his arm back and nodded. The tube-like growths where his ears should’ve been expanded and contracted. “Yes. Goodnight.”

  Before she could say anything else, he was gone, restoring her view of the dark, star-sprinkled sky.

  Chapter 5

  The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the first thing Theo was aware of when she woke. She shifted her head, and light struck her eyelids, staining the comfortable darkness of sleep bright red. When she slitted her eyes open, she was blinded by the harsh sunlight. Groaning, she covered her face with one hand. She wasn’t sure she could get used to this; on an interstellar ship, there was no true day or night. There was only a tightly-maintained schedule. Lights went off, lights came on, shifts changed.

  But even at their worst, the lights on a ship were never this uncomfortably bright.

  Turning her face away from the pod’s opening, she lifted her hand to shield her face. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her eyes adjusted slowly to the brightness.

  “I’m in hell,” she muttered.

  “Now you know how I’ve felt all these years,” Kane said through the neural link.

  She dropped her hand to her side and glared at the open hatch. “If you’re that miserable, maybe I should trade you for an AI who actually enjoys my company.”

  “You’d be lost without me, Theodora.”

  She snorted. “I’m already lost with you.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  Smirking, she slowly sat up, tugged the blanket off her lap, and draped it over the back of the seat. She stretched her legs, arms, and back as she stood and moved to the open hatch to look outside.

  “Vasil?” she called. He made no reply, and she saw no sign of him. “Did he come by while I was sleeping?”

  “It would appear so,” Kane replied. He highlighted something at the edge of her field of view, and she turned her head to focus on it.

  Several large leaves had been laid atop the sand only a few meters from the pod, each with a pile of alien fruit atop it.

  “He brought breakfast,” she said, surprised.

  “Now we just need a long-range transmitter, and we can recommend him for a medal. He’ll be hailed as a hero.”

  “You’re in a mood this morning.” She sat down and tugged on her boots.

  Kane scoffed. “I woke with a foul taste in my mouth. Apologizing does not agree with me.”

  “You don’t have a mouth.”

  “No one is more aware of that than I.”

  Theo stood up. “Though it definitely doesn’t stop you from running it nonstop.”

  “What is our plan, Theodora? What are we going to do?”

  “First,” she said as she climbed out of the pod, “I am going to eat.”

  She dropped down into the sand and approached the fruit Vasil had left. Most of it looked at least somewhat familiar to her now — he had pointed out several edible varieties as they’d trekked through the jungle together following Theo’s near-impalement by the thorns of a sentient stick. Plucking up one what he’d called daruk nuts, Theo popped it into her mouth and bit down. The crunchy morsel broke apart between her teeth, and its salty smoothness caressed her taste buds. She closed her eyes and hummed as she chewed.

  “Maybe it’s just because the food on IDC ships tastes like crap, but I could get used to this planet if everything tastes this good,” she said.

 
; “What’s next? We haven’t discussed it, Theo, but this is a serious situation.”

  Theo’s brows fell. “You think I don’t know that? Can’t you let me enjoy a meal without bringing up the fact that I lost everything but my life over the course of a few minutes?”

  “Sorry.” The word was followed by a faint, static-like thrumming in her head.

  “What the hell was that?” she demanded, rubbing her temples with a finger and thumb.

  “I’ve exceeded my maximum number of apologies for the month. I fear I might be damaging my CPU.”

  Theo grunted and tossed a handful of nuts in her mouth. She brushed off her hands and started peeling the winefruits. “You don’t have to be such a jerk all the time, you know.”

  “I don’t try to be,” he said. “I…I put you in danger yesterday, Theo, and I need you to know I never intended for that to happen. I am sorry.”

  She stilled her hands for a moment, staring down at the purple stains on her fingers from the juice. “I know, Kane. I never once thought you did. You always have my back.”

  “Do you believe what Vasil told you? About this halorium?”

  She tossed aside half the rind and held the remaining fruit in one hand. Its natural wedges reminded her of pictures of oranges she’d seen back on Old Earth. Pressing her lips together, she tilted her head and considered what Vasil had said, studying her memory of his expression in her mind’s eye.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” she replied. “He didn’t have to tell us anything at all.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Kane was silent for a few moments. “I’m IDC property, and I’m not technically supposed to feel anything, but I’m troubled by what he said.”

  “Me too.” She climbed back into the pod, careful to hold the exposed winefruit upright. “The IDC was covering up something, and I’m pretty sure it was the kraken. I just… I don’t understand why they just left them. I mean, they had the manpower, and they could have come here and wiped the kraken out. Could’ve destroyed every trace of what they did here. Instead, they just…pretended it didn’t happen.”

  “I guess we should be grateful for that, given our current situation.”