by Renard, Loki
Faith followed him up a small flight of stairs to an elevated round room containing a control panel presumably used for flying the vessel, and beyond it, a great panel of windows through which she found herself confronted by the universe. She looked out at the star-laden sky and was blown away by the vastness of the display. She was surrounded by stars, and by a depth of darkness that fell into infinity when she got close to the window and looked down. “Wow!”
“It never ceases to provide wonder,” Serkan said. “This view is the reason why these long voyages are bearable.”
“This is worth being kidnapped from Earth,” Faith exclaimed. “I mean. Really.” She turned to look at him with wide, excited eyes. “Where are we going to go? We could go anywhere. How many other kinds of aliens are there? Can we go to a bar?”
“We are not going to a bar,” Serkan said firmly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get something from the galley.”
Faith sat by the window in a low bench seat covered with a slick, padded material that was soft and comfortable and watched the universe go by. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in a slow prickle as it came over her once and for all that this was real. She truly was nowhere near Earth anymore. She was adrift in space.
That meant everything she’d done back on Earth. All her little sins and crimes, and more important, the people looking for her because of them—it was all gone. She had made a perfect escape, and Faith couldn’t help the smile spreading over her face as that particular realization set in. Her final days on Earth had been increasingly desperate. Rough men had been looking for her with a tenacity that far outstripped anything law enforcement brought to bear. They had been so damn angry and so damn violent. If it had not been for Serkan finding her… a little shudder went through her body. It really didn’t bear thinking about.
“Enjoying the view?” Serkan returned with a tray containing two plates full of something that smelled like food. Faith was starving. She’d hardly managed to eat at all while on the run. There hadn’t been much time to stop for groceries and everything she’d put in her body for the past week had been from a service station, food more alien to the natural human diet than anything Serkan could provide, she was pretty sure of that.
“Hopefully this is not too strange for you,” he said. “These are greens and…”
He stopped explaining as Faith began to eat without further inquiry. Who cared what it was, it was food and it was being given to her by someone who was too cautious and careful to give her anything that might be remotely dangerous.
She ate until it was physically impossible for her to eat anymore, then sat back against the window, the eternal skies serving as a wondrous backdrop to her impending indigestion.
“You must have been hungry,” Serkan noted.
“I haven’t eaten terribly well lately,” Faith said. “My lifestyle doesn’t allow for leisurely afternoons in the kitchen. I tend to eat on the run, if at all.”
“Your life must have been hard,” he said, settling in across from her. He had barely touched his food, she noticed. Maybe he was not as hungry as he had claimed to be.
“I don’t know,” Faith shrugged. “I guess. Life is always hard, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes more than others,” Serkan said. “How long have you been a thief?”
There it was. The question he was most fascinated by. She could see it in his eyes. Judgment and curiosity in equal measure. She doubted he could understand any of her experiences, but at least he was trying.
“For as long as I’ve been alive. It’s how I survive. When I started I stole food to eat. I had to look after myself, you know? And then later… I stole cash to keep a roof over my head. But they know where my apartment is now, so that’s burned.” She shrugged. “We don’t all have the luxury of being super advanced aliens with our very own space shuttles who can just run off into deep space when things get difficult.”
“We haven’t all earned the privilege, that is certain,” Serkan replied.
“You earned this privilege, huh? You did something to deserve this shiny spaceship?”
“I did many things,” he said without telling her anything at all. “I’m afraid that this will likely be my last journey.”
“Why?”
“Because of you,” he said. “Because of the decisions I made and continue to make regarding you. The authorities will not be pleased.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Faith said. “I never worried about pleasing authorities.”
“And you ended up unconscious in a forest,” Serkan reminded her. “Besides, it is not about pleasing anyone. The rules I follow… and the rules I enforce, for that matter, are for the greater good. I follow them because I know cause leads to effect. I know that my actions, however small, matter.”
“But you took me,” she reminded him. “You took me and you weren’t supposed to. Your rules said I should die in the dirt.”
“As have so many creatures before you and will so many after,” Serkan said heavily. “Yes. I made an exception. An exception which has broken the rule. And there will be consequences for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I intend to report this incident to the council…”
“Are you fucking stupid?” Faith interrupted him.
Serkan looked at her with a dour expression. “Perhaps you’d care to rephrase that question.”
“No, I mean, that’s fucking stupid.” Faith emphasized the words with wild gestures of her hands. “You did something wrong. Okay. Fine. Whatever. It happens. You don’t tell on yourself! You see if you can get away with it. I bet you can. Nobody is going to miss me.”
“Perhaps, but there are few humans off Earth,” Serkan said. “You will be noticed wherever you go—especially given your criminal proclivities. I do not intend to become a liar to explain your presence.”
“Oh, well, great. And then you’ll get thrown into alien jail and what will happen to me?”
“I doubt I will be imprisoned.” He looked at her, his expression grave. “As for your precise fate, I cannot say.”
“Oh,” Faith nodded, her hands still performing wheeling motions as she waved them about. “You don’t know what will happen to me? Will they return me to Earth?”
“Difficult to say,” he said. “Your removal has caused a disturbance. Your return would likely cause a greater one, as you are now aware of those who watch the planet…”
“So they would let me go?”
“Unlikely.”
“So, what would they do to me?”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look, but did not respond.
“Nothing good, huh,” Faith shrugged. “Sounds right. In my experience, authorities exist to hurt people. They control everyone and help no one.”
“Our authorities are not that way inclined, but they will take the greater good into consideration, which may not be ideal for you specifically.” His eyes narrowed a little as he thought, and it occurred to Faith that Serkan may never have had to consider making his own mind up before.
“You don’t have to follow the law, just because it’s the law,” she said. “You can do whatever you want.”
“There are consequences.”
“Yeah, and you know what? The consequence of following the law would have been me dying. You tore my ass up for doing the same thing you did.”
“I saved your life.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He seemed surprised by the question.
“Yeah, why? You didn’t know me. I was just a stranger to you. I was just some little bug-like creature on the planet you were watching. Why would you break with your law abiding behavior and rescue me?”
“I do not know that I can explain it in a way which will make sense in a wider context,” Serkan said. “Observers see many painful things. Some too painful to bear. Many return from observing Earth and refuse to go back. It is not always a pleasant place, your planet.”
“Tell me about it,�
� Faith snorted.
“Inventive little monkeys with the occasional streak of sadism which takes the breath away,” he mused. “Some observers become hardened to it. They see humans, you, as little more than basic creatures. Undomesticated, untrainable proto-beings.”
“Well, those observers sound like dicks,” Faith said bluntly.
“I was not expecting to see you in the forest,” Serkan continued. “We rarely, if ever, encounter humans directly. I suppose, when I found you lying there, I saw how very similar you are to me. You were beautiful and vulnerable. You needed help. A different, less evolved species, yes, but in pain and suffering. I wanted to alleviate that suffering—and then events overtook me, as they tend do to when one does not follow the law.”
“It’s hard to hate you for busting my butt when you say nice things,” Faith said, tempted to blush at his description of her as beautiful. “But maybe you did follow the law.”
“I assure you, I did not.”
“Maybe you followed a bigger law. A law not to let others suffer. Like I followed a bigger law when I started stealing. A law that said I shouldn’t let myself starve.”
Serkan smiled. “I think we will go to the council,” he said. “And I think we will make our case there. You have a talent for bending the truth in a way which is almost charming.”
“But…”
“I have faith in the rule of law,” he said. “And I have faith in my people’s ability to deal true justice. But more than any of that, I have faith in your ability to convince someone that black is white and night is day. You are a scoundrel, Faith, but I think they will like you.”
Faith did not like the idea of being at the mercy of Serkan’s council. Her experience with the law had been harsh and unpleasant. She shut her mouth and figured that she was just going to have to find a way to escape him before he could take her before the council. He could be judged if he liked. She intended to continue avoiding the consequences Serkan seemed to think were inevitable.
“There’s no need to pout,” he said. “I didn’t allow any harm to come to you on Earth; I will not allow any to come to you on my home planet.”
Chapter Five
Faith wasn’t sure she trusted Serkan. She didn’t trust anyone, so it wasn’t necessarily a problem specific to the great hulking alien who had captured her and taken her lightyears across the galaxy. It didn’t help that he hadn’t told her almost anything about his civilization, or what would happen when they got there. No matter how many questions she asked him, the answer was always the same: wait and see.
It had taken an indeterminate amount of time to arrive, she really didn’t know how long without day and night cycles, but she’d slept several times before Serkan informed her that the ship had docked and that they would be waiting to speak to the council on board before she was allowed off. They were in a period of quarantine, so he said.
“You could say anything,” she pointed out after he answered her questions for the umpteenth time. “You might be about to turn me into ham… human burgers.”
He gave a long-suffering sigh. “Do you think I would have waited this long to do that?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe your species likes fresh human burgers. Maybe you’re going to offer me to your council like some kind of appetizer.”
Serkan gave her a look that indicated he didn’t find her musings cute at all. He’d gotten very tense over the past hour or so, probably because he was worried about being in trouble himself. He struck her as a man who had never broken the rules before and didn’t know what to do now that he had.
“Who’s in more trouble,” she baited him. “Me, or you?”
“Now is not the time for your impertinent questions, Faith.”
“There might not be any more time for me,” Faith pointed out. “Now might be my only time.”
“You are overly dramatic,” he intoned.
“I’m underly dramatic, for a woman who is on another planet waiting to be judged by an alien entity. I should be screaming and crying and begging for my life.”
“That would be tedious for us both,” Serkan remarked. He could be so deadpan, and sometimes she didn’t know if he was being funny or serious.
A tap at the door brought him to his feet. “Commander Serkan,” a voice on the other side said. “The council will see you now. Leave your cargo behind for the moment.”
“Cargo,” Faith snorted. “So I’m not even edible. Just a box of blankets or something.”
“Stay here and be good,” Serkan ordered. He approached the door and it opened for him, allowing him out into the alien world. Faith tried to catch a glimpse, but she saw nothing but a wall that could have existed on Earth. Again, she wondered if this was all some kind of elaborate practical joke. Was someone going to come in with a camera crew and announce she’d been punked? Probably not.
She sat in what could only be described as the waiting room to the alien world, tapping her feet impatiently. They had been there for hours and hours, she was starting to get hungry and was going to have to pee soon too. She supposed this was better than being dead in the woods, but she wasn’t sure it was any better than what jail would have been.
Serkan was acting as if he were her jailer, and as if she were a criminal. The only thing missing was the cuffs, but he didn’t exactly need them given his superior size and strength—and the fact that the ship was hermetically sealed with a circulating air system. These were the details he was prepared to share with her. She should never have told him about how she stole the chip. He had been so guarded about absolutely everything. He treated her as if she were some wily little criminal, always waiting to make off with something of value.
He wasn’t entirely wrong, but Faith didn’t like it. Her entire life had been based on the ability to fool men. This was one man who was not fooled in the slightest, and he was about to turn her over to a civilization of creatures just like him.
Would they do what customs agents did to critters that stowed away in shipments on Earth? Would she be ‘put to sleep’? It seemed like a real possibility. Faith had to admit to herself that she had been living on borrowed time ever since she’d stolen the chip. Avoiding what had started to feel like an inevitable bullet to the brain had actually become really tiring. It was funny how even fighting for one’s own life could become sort of boring after a while. At least if it was all over now, it would probably be done humanely. She might not even see it coming. Maybe that would be okay.
“Human.”
Serkan was back, his voice interrupting her strangely mundane dark thoughts. She had been so intently examining her feet that she had not detected the sliding of the wall. She searched his face for some clue of what to expect, but his expression was impassive and unreadable.
“The council will see you now,” Serkan said. “Behave yourself and mind your manners. Your fate rests in their hands. Do not lie to them. They are wiser and more powerful than you could possibly know.”
Faith took a deep breath. Her stomach had started to churn. Was this it? The end? She stood up, a tremor in her legs as she tried desperately to be brave. Maybe this was the last walk she would ever take.
“Do not be so afraid,” Serkan said. “You are in no danger.”
She didn’t believe him. As she stepped over the threshold to this new world, she saw it laid out before her like a pink and gold jewel. There was a bridge connecting Serkan’s craft to a larger construction, and the paneled walls of it were translucent enough to let her see part of the world in which she had arrived. The most obvious and startling difference was the sky. It was not blue. It was a golden hue, pale and tinged with streaks of white. Everything below it was cast in a rosy shade, the buildings constructed after the shape of petals and long leaves. This civilization looked as though it had literally bloomed from the reddish earth she could spot traces of along the floor, a pinky dust that gathered in some of the corners.
“Oh, my god,” she murmured to herself. “This really isn’t
Earth.”
“No,” he agreed. “It very much isn’t.”
“Where are we? I mean, in this world?”
“I have docked my ship at the grand council chambers,” he explained. “What you see around you is our capital city. As for the world, if you are looking for a name, it is known most often as Svari. The people here are known by the same word.”
“Nothing egocentric about that at all,” Faith murmured to herself. She stopped for a second to get a better look at the city. They were up rather high, so it was mostly laid out below them, too far down for her to get a real sense of most of it, but even from this distance, she could see that the architecture swayed a little, as if it were alive. She could see light moving about inside the buildings, very slowly, but with a meaningful, intentional pace.
“This is very strange,” she murmured.
“Probably,” Serkan agreed. “But we do not have time to stop and stare. The council are waiting.”
“Well,” Faith said as they moved on. “If I do die today, I bet I’m the first person ever to see an alien city.”
“Not quite the first,” Serkan corrected mysteriously. “And there is little risk of you perishing today,” he added, more as an afterthought.
“Oh, good, little risk,” she said sarcastically.
“Several percentage points less likely than you would be to expire if you were on Earth,” Serkan elaborated, rather grimly.
“You’re never going to let me live that whole ‘lying half dead in a forest’ thing down, are you,” Faith complained.
“Quiet,” Serkan said. “We have arrived.”
Faith found herself standing before a pair of very tall doors. Everything in the alien world was built to suit their larger frames. It made her feel like Gulliver on his travels.
“This will be easier if you are on your best behavior,” Serkan said, taking her by the hand. He was lecturing her as if she were a child, which she did not enjoy in the slightest.
“I’ll try not to blow my nose on my sleeve,” she said. “Let’s just do this, alright?”
