Torran

by Leslie Chase

  The human is still there, I thought dimly as I heard her speak. My hand gripped her wrist, holding on tight. That’s good.

  Whatever she said, I missed it. But not Arvid’s reply.

  “If he dies, you die,” he snarled, and the human whimpered. Anger flared in me at that, burning in my blood. I tried to speak but the darkness closed around me again.

  The next thing I knew, strong hands lifted and carried me. The slightest jolt sent searing pain through me, as though someone had touched a hot poker to my wound. My eyes wouldn’t open, and though I heard voices around me, I couldn’t make out the words. Let me sleep, I tried to say, but no sound came out.

  After an excruciating journey, they lowered me onto a soft mattress. The relief as I stopped moving was immense, and I settled back into my healing trance.

  Some time later, I had no idea how long, I woke to feel gentle hands on my skin. Cool water bathed me, and a soft voice soothed in a language I didn’t know.

  My eyes flickered open for a moment and I saw the human female above me. Frightened but beautiful, she sang something quietly to herself as she cleaned my wound. A smile settled on my face and I relaxed back into the trance.

  Everything was going to be alright.

  A strange feeling woke me, like a warm rubbery sponge dragged across my face. My eyes opened to see a small mammal licking me, a ball of golden fluff that blocked my field of vision. A faint shimmer marked the creature as a hologram, but a forcefield gave it enough reality to touch me.

  An odd but not unpleasant sensation, one which I did not have time for. I tried to sit, dislodging the virtual animal, only for a wave of dizziness to push me back into the bed. The fur ball bounced up onto my chest, licking my face enthusiastically again.

  Generating the creature was a waste of computer cycles, but I couldn’t help smiling. There was something endearing about the hologram, whatever its purpose.

  “Get off,” I said, cursing how weak my voice sounded. However long I’d been out it hadn’t been enough time to recover from being shot.

  “You’re awake,” someone said in strongly accented Galtrade. I looked around, pushing the animal aside feebly, to see the human female who’d shot me watching warily from the far side of the room.

  Room? Yes, I was no longer on the forest floor. Inside somewhere, a small room built to human scale — the bed I lay on wasn’t quite long enough, and the ceiling looked painfully low. There were posters on the wall, slogans in a language I didn’t recognize and primitive equipment that might be medical.

  The door was shut, leaving me and the human alone together. My weapons and other gear sat on a table by the bed, and she stood as far away from them as possible.

  In the bright electric light she looked frightened and pale. Her hands twitched as she backed against the wall, gaze darting from me to the door and back. This was the first chance I’d had to look at a human properly.

  Small. Soft. Weak. No threat to a prytheen warrior. But there was something about her, a determination hidden beneath her fear, that made me certain she shouldn’t be underestimated. And more than that, she was beautiful. Her pale skin looked soft, with curves I ached to run my hands over concealed under her jumpsuit. Pink skin rather than the blue of my people, exotic and tempting. I felt my body stir at the sight of her and growled, trying to contain a response I wasn’t well enough to act on.

  This isn’t the time or place, I told myself. Information, that’s what I need, not a female.

  “How long have I been out?” I asked.

  “Three days,” she answered. Her accent was awful but at least we could communicate. That was a good start.

  I tried to sit up, slower this time, and managed to prop myself against the wall. The room swam around me and I groaned at the effort. Three days hadn’t been enough time for the healing trance to fix my injury, not by a long way.

  I focused on the human female, steadying myself as I looked at her. Oddly, her presence made me feel better — though I couldn’t forget that she was the one who’d put me in this position.

  Her pale face flushed as I watched her, and she looked away. Her blush was delightful and I smiled despite myself. Not wanting to frighten her, I looked away with difficulty.

  “My name is Torran,” I told her, speaking slowly and trying to keep my pain from showing in my voice. I doubted that I’d been successful. “What is yours?”

  “Lisa,” she said. Her gaze darted up to me, a complicated mix of emotions crossing her face too fast for me to follow.

  “What happened?” I asked, needing to understand. Her gaze hardened as she bit her lip, and I saw both anger and fear in her eyes before she looked away.

  “Your people attacked us, took us prisoner,” she said. “Arvid says this is their place now, that we are theirs. Yours too, I suppose. And I’m to tend your wounds since I…”

  She trailed off, perhaps not wanting to remind me that she’d shot me. As though I could forget such a thing. I grunted and tried to think clearly. What she’d told me made sense, but it wasn’t exactly good news. Conquering a lesser race was against our Code and breaking it left a bad taste in my mouth. On the other hand, what were we supposed to do? The humans’ technology worked and ours did not: we needed their colony.

  Still, part of me regretted leading Arvid here. If I’d chosen a different course I would never have heard the high-pitched sound of the humans’ defenses, never tracked them to their home. Perhaps, had I gone another way, we’d have found other prytheen instead of the humans.

  What’s past is done, I told myself. Move forward, not back. We’d found humans, and that was that. But from the fear in the human’s expression, I doubted that Arvid was handling the situation well. With a growl, I tried to stand. I got half-way off the bed before my knees gave way, and I barely caught myself. Hauling myself back onto the bed, I lay back and took a deep, frustrated breath.

  Fine. If I couldn’t go see Arvid, he would have to come to me.

  “Tell Arvid I am awake.”

  She hesitated. My jaw tightened and I brimmed with anger. Anger at Arvid rather than her. She tried to kill me; why do I care if she’s afraid?

  “I will not let him hurt you,” I promised when she didn’t move. It didn’t seem to convince her, so I growled. “Must I fetch him myself?”

  With a grunt of effort I began to pull myself to my feet again. That spurred her into action — she put her hand on my chest and pushed me back down, a worried look on her face.

  The touch of her hand on my bare skin sent a strange sensation through me. As though a pulse of fire burned along my nerves. Not painful. The reverse, in fact. I nearly didn’t hear her speak over my surprise at the sensation.

  What is this feeling?

  “I will fetch him,” she said, stumbling over her words. “Don’t… you just stay put. Yes?”

  I nodded. That was all I’d been asking for, though part of me didn’t want her to leave my presence. Sinking back into the soft mattress, I shut my eyes. Just for a moment.

  The door slamming open shocked me back to consciousness. I grabbed for a knife before remembering it wasn’t at my belt.

  “Torran, you live!” Arvid strode into the small room, voice booming loud enough to make me wince. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

  “I have had good care,” I said, stretching a little and wincing. “Though I will need longer to recuperate.”

  “The little human’s been doing her best. No wonder: I told her she lives only as long as you do.” Arvid laughed and I hid my angry response.

  “She did fine work for an alien,” I told him. “Now what?”

  Arvid’s grin faded. “That’s not an easy question. It seems that we’re trapped here, all of us — the human ship is a wreck too. And it’s in the hands of a human captain. Zaren’s dead.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to take that in. The leader who’d taken us on this doomed attack, the Alpha-Captain who’d gotten us stranded here, was dead? My instinct was
to applaud, but without him to hold the Silver Band together we were certain to fall into infighting and chaos.

  Arvid laid out what had happened at the Wandering Star quickly, and it was as bad as I’d feared. Zaren dead, Auric ruling along with the human captain. The Silver Band dissolving into squabbling clans around the planet. No one had heard from Terasi, my Alpha-Captain, and it wasn’t even clear she was on Crashland.

  I hoped that she wasn’t. Someone had to lead whatever remained of the Silver Band outside of this accursed system, and better her than most. But it left me with no one to turn to for advice or leadership.

  “Still, we’re well situated,” Arvid finished with forced cheer. “These humans have a good thing going — plentiful hunting, good shelter, the beginnings of a farm. And now we have them to do the work for us while you and Dessus recover from your wounds.”

  My lips twitched. Enslaving the humans to work the farm they’d set up? There was no honor in that. But I wasn’t in a position to challenge Arvid for leadership of our tiny clan, and if Dessus and Tarva backed him, there was nothing I could do. Not until I had healed, at least.

  He took my silence for agreement and bulled on. “There are other survivors. We will regroup eventually, but for now we must consolidate our position. And that means leaving no doubt what happens if one of the humans raises a hand against us, Torran.”

  I saw where this was going and glared up at him. “She is my prey, Arvid, not yours to do with as you please.”

  “Sundered Space, Torran, I know that.” Arvid’s impatience showed through. “She shot you, you get to deal with her. Now you’re conscious, we can proceed with the execution.”

  I bared my teeth and glared at him, fingers tensing and claws sliding from their sheathes. Arvid might be healthy and armed but my instincts didn’t care about those details.

  Why does it matter so much? She shot me, what do I care if she lives or dies?

  It made no sense. It didn’t have to. I just knew that I would kill anyone who laid a finger on her.

  “No,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm. If I let out my anger, I didn’t know how far I’d go. “Without her help I wouldn’t have survived this far. I owe her for that.”

  “You owe her for the gut wound that nearly killed you, Torran.” Arvid spoke slowly, carefully. The room felt too small for the two of us, and we both knew that if a fight broke out, it would be a disaster — he kept his hands clear of his weapons, unthreatening. “We cannot let the humans think they can attack us and live. There are more of them than us, and both you and Dessus still need to heal. Tarva and I can’t keep the others under watch constantly.”

  I growled but forced my hands to relax. Killing Arvid wouldn’t help me, or Lisa, or anyone else. And in my present state I doubted I’d survive a fight with him either.

  But that didn’t mean I’d give in. “She lives. You’ve acknowledged that she’s my prey, Arvid, and this is my decision. If any of the other humans are stupid enough to think it gives them leave to attack a prytheen, we’ll soon teach them better.”

  Arvid snorted at that, and I knew what he thought. If the humans rose up against us as one, then the two healthy prytheen warriors might not be enough to put them down. Well, that’s his problem to deal with, I thought. He’s the one who wanted to conquer.

  “If you claim her, then I can’t argue,” he said after a long, heavy pause. “The Code backs you on this, I know. But it means you have to keep her in line. She’s your responsibility.”

  Unhappy but willing to go along with it. That was the best I’d been able to hope for out of this exchange. I nodded, not entirely happy myself. A compromise.

  Tension left Arvid’s shoulders and I relaxed back into the bed.

  “I don’t envy our leaders,” he said, smiling a little. “Juggling problems like this every day must wear on a man. I’m glad I won’t be in charge here for long, Torran.”

  “How’s that? Who else can take over?” I knew Tarva didn’t want the job any more than I did, and Dessus made a better follower than a leader. Of the four of us, Arvid was the closest thing to a leader.

  “I told you there are other survivors,” he said. “Dessus managed to get one of our transmitters working, powered by the humans’ communicator, and we’ve found friends. Some of Zaren’s clan are nearby and we need their numbers. This place gives us wealth enough to buy our way in near the top, whoever ends up as the clan’s Alpha-Captain now that Zaren’s gone into the dark.”

  I groaned. The clan that had led us on this fool’s attack? But the sheer relief in Arvid’s eyes at the thought of no longer being in charge made one thing clear — he wasn’t going to be the boss any longer than he had to.

  And I wasn’t up to challenging him for the position, not yet. Perhaps by the time our new ‘friends’ arrived, I’d be on my feet and able to take charge.

  Or perhaps they would prove more reasonable than their dead leader had been. I could hope, though it didn’t seem likely.

  “Let me rest and heal,” I told Arvid. “I’d rather be up and around by the time Zaren’s people arrive.”

  He nodded and turned to leave. As soon as he was out of the room, I realized how much the conversation had taken out of me. My wound burned and keeping my eyes open was impossible. The healing trance wouldn’t be enough to deal with this, and I had to hope that the humans’ primitive technology could help me fight off whatever infection was setting in.

  5

  Lisa

  The sickbay door slid shut behind me and I leaned against the wall, glad to be out of there. The small room felt crowded when Torran was unconscious — as soon as he’d stirred, I’d felt trapped with him.

  Oddly, it wasn’t an entirely unwelcome feeling. We were too close together, there wasn’t enough space, and I should have been terrified of him. An alien warrior I’d shot, and plenty of weapons if he wanted revenge.

  Not that he’d need them. Even injured he seemed strong enough to do whatever he wanted if he got his hands on me.

  My cheeks heated at the thought and I frowned, banishing an image of those powerful blue hands pulling me close. What the hell, Lisa? Is this some kind of Stockholm syndrome bullshit?

  Torran was undeniably sexy, with a muscular body that put every human I’d ever seen to shame. I swallowed and shook my head, trying to focus on what he and Arvid were saying rather than drifting into ridiculous flights of fancy. Even if I’d actually been interested in him, I’d shot him.

  The two aliens spoke loudly enough that I could hear most of what they said, but it didn’t help. My Galtrade wasn’t bad and since our capture I’d been working hard to improve along with my fellow humans — being able to understand our alien overlords made everything easier. It helped that Galtrade was designed to be easy to learn.

  But the language the prytheen spoke amongst themselves was different, harder to grasp, and they didn’t try to teach it to us. I sighed, giving up on eavesdropping.

  Either they’ll decide to kill you now or not, I told myself. There’s nothing I can do about it. Might as well take the chance to see the others.

  I pushed away from the wall, turning my back on the tiny sickbay. On Arcadia there would have been flying ambulances to take the seriously injured to the Wandering Star for treatment, but here on Crashland who knew if we’d ever have a luxury like that?

  Outside, our small farm had taken shape. Trees cut down and rolled aside, the resulting space planted with crops. Not enough to feed us all, of course. Clearing that much forest would take time — but it was a good start.

  Hard work, though, and the other colonists were doing the backbreaking labor of getting it set up. Even with modern tools, cutting down and mulching up the trees to free the soil for crops was hard going. Mr. Carrington insisted he was still in charge, of course, though he left the Dietrichs to do most of the technical work. When I emerged from the pod the others gathered by a fallen tree, Maria Dietrich setting up the nanotech that would consume the stump whil
e the Carrington boys moved the log to the side.

  I looked past them into the woods, wondering if I should just walk into them and hope I found somewhere better. But that would be suicide — aside from the fact that I had no supplies for a journey, the Crashland’s predators would eat me alive. One of the first things Arvid had done to establish his control was disable the ultrasound speakers on our wristbands. I’d have no protection from predators, even if the prytheen didn’t hunt me down.

  Mr. Carrington spotted me standing in the pod’s doorway and coughed to get my attention.

  “I see you’ve decided to join us, Lisa,” he said. “Perhaps you can pull your weight for once. Your brother is worse than useless.”

  My pulse quickened at that and I barely restrained my urge to snap back at him. His style of ‘leadership’ only inspired anger in me, especially when it looked like he’d done no work himself. Of all the humans out here, he was the only one who’d kept clean and tidy.

  The remaining two prytheen watched with amused interest as he glared at me and I restrained my impulse to shout back. We humans had to stick together, I told myself, but that wasn’t always easy.

  “I can’t work out here and tend the sickbay,” I pointed out as reasonably as I could manage, trying for a smile and hoping it didn’t come across as hostile as I felt. Carrington snorted but I pressed on. “What do you think the aliens will do if the one we injured dies? Do you think they’ll just be angry at me?”

  “Why not?” Carrington asked, venom in his voice. “You’re the one who shot him.”

  “She’s right, Mr. Carrington,” Maria said, not taking her eyes off her computer interface. The holographic monkey sat on the offending tree stump, directing the nanites as they worked their way into the wood. “We’re all better off if he lives.”

  Carrington muttered something under his breath, and I knew I hadn’t heard the last of his complaints. But for now he shut up, turning to direct the boys as they stripped branches from the fallen tree. Those would be fed into the matter processor and used to make nutrient paste.