Araman's Aria

by Suzanne Embree

  “Perhaps.” Araman agreed looking down at her not disguising his amusement. His hand reached for her waist. “Commander, grab the grips please.” He instructed as Araman stole a kiss from her inviting lips when Santari turned his back.

  “Great.” Santari said as he turned around to see the embracing couple. “Just great. I’m going to be stuck in paradise with Beauty and the Beast.” He grimaced before clearing his throat loudly. “Ahem.”

  Brea stepped out of Araman’s arms blushing as Santari dropped the grips at Araman’s feet.

  “I realize that you two are anxious to begin your little Terrian honeymoon but as we will be traveling in small spaces together, would you please refrain from mauling each other in my presence.”

  “Is that all, Commander?” Araman asked not amused. Santari still smirking nodded. “I suggest to you grab our grips and lead on to the lift please.”

  Santari snapped his heels together and lifted his knee in an exaggerated march to the three steps to the luggage. He bent with a wink to Brea and grabbed the handle of one while tucking the other under his arm.

  “This way to the beach.” Santari bent for his as the lift doors opened.

  Brea looked hesitantly at the lift as Araman gave her a slight push into it. She looked around at the smooth walls melting into the floor in a seamless line. She stood between the two men feeling imprisoned.

  “Where does this take us?” Brea asked feeling dwarfed.

  “To the flight decks where our luxury transport flyer will take us to our tropical paradise. Only don’t eat the on board meal, stick with the peanuts.” Santari made a face making her laugh.

  “What is this place like?” Brea looked up to Araman flush from her laughing. Her eyes were sparkling like a gem stone caught in the sun.

  “It is a planet, Lyra, that was made just for you,” Araman whispered. Tingles shot through her veins from the caress of the words against her ear. A blush rose in her cheeks as she looked away.

  “Now I asked you two, to cut that out.” Santari reminded them. “Its going to be hard enough as it is.”

  “No pun intended?” Araman shot at him.

  A snort came from Brea. Her eyes widened at the shock of the men’s looks and immediately dropped her gaze. She covered her nose with her hands trying to hide her mortified face. The sound of rumbling deep laughter echoed around her as the men roared.

  They were still chuckling at her reaction of the jest towards Santari when the lift stopped. They both led Brea off with grins as a private stepped forward to take their luggage to Araman’s flyer. Santari gladly handed the grips over as the private let out a shrill whistle.

  A cart with four seats and luggage rack was driven over to meet them. Santari handed him the disk with the authorization codes to leave the convoy. The private threw the luggage without any regard into the rack, gave a curt nod before turning abruptly around and walked away.

  The driver gave a slow salute of the head as Araman guided Brea into a seat behind Santari. He hopped in beside his concubine just as the driver started up the cart. The small vehicle carried them past large flying vessels.

  They were all the same arrow shaped with a highly polished exterior. The wings of the ships resembled sharpened blades extending out from the sides. Each had men working above and below the black gleaming flyers. Brea wondered why they seemed in such a hurry as tools could be heard ticking and knocking.

  “This is your personal flyer?” Santari glanced up at the silver triple winged vessel. “Me thinks, his import belies the size of his manhood.” He leaned his reddish brown head towards Brea.

  Araman got out of the parking cart and glanced over to his commander.

  “Me thinks it under estimates.” He helped Brea out of the vehicle while Santari went around the back and grabbed the luggage.

  Brea stared up at the three layers of metal coming to meet in the middle of the nose of the vessel wondering where the entrance to the beast was. It was much larger than the others lined up beside its fluid edges.

  “Compliments of General Herse.” Araman took Brea’s grip from Santari and led the way to a set of stairs uncurling from the underbelly of the ship.

  “I think the General likes you Commandant.” Santari’s head bobbed around as though his neck was rubber. “This is some machine.” He waited for Brea to climb the stairs. He noted she did so gingerly.

  “Worried Brea?” Santari asked.

  “A little. I do not like this space travel.” She told him taking the extended hand at the top.

  “In a couple of hours, we will be on the sandy beaches of Orpheaus Six.” Araman encased her hand with his. “Where you will have your feet firmly planted on the ground.” He promised.

  An underling arrived to greet them. Two others followed and when the rigid young man snapped his fingers they reached for the luggage from Santari.

  “And this one.” Araman handed the pink case to the young man. He blinked at it and then back to the Commandant.

  “Your concubine carries her own,” the private informed Araman matter-of-factly with an air of disdain towards the Commandant’s concubine.

  Brea dropped her head to the floor taking her hand from Araman’s hold to her own. The remark reminded her of her place. She had almost forgotten to others she was only an object; another servant. She reached for the case but withdrew under the Commandant’s icy glare.

  Araman’s anger erupted up at the sight of his concubine retreating into herself. He faced the underling with a pulsating jaw. His fist clenched.

  Santari looked over from Brea in time to watch the Commandant’s hand grip the orderly around the neck and then slam him up against the wall. The other orderly turned white at Araman’s fury.

  “I’ll take it Sir.” He stepped up shaking.

  “No.” Araman spoke too calmly for Santari’s liking. “He will take it.”

  Santari relaxed. At least his Commandant would allow this one to live until the duration of the journey to the sleeping quarters. He gave an encouraging smile to Brea who was staring wide-eyed at Araman at his reaction.

  “If you think the General whom you work for has that same opinion, you are sadly mistaken.” Araman growled. He threw the orderly to the ground. “Now pick it up and carry it if you value any miserable worth of your life.” He ordered. Araman’s jaw was clenched watching the young man struggling for air, scrambled for the case. He knew he should feel some remorse.

  “Yes.” Santari mocked. “Blue is definitely his color.” He turned to the underling who greeted them. “You might want to let the others know, that the Commandant and his commander will not tolerate disrespect towards the woman we escort.” He said in a very serious, threatening tone. “You might add that the Commander is not so inclined as the Commandant to let someone live with such blatant disrespect.”

  “Yes. Sir.” The private gave a curt tight nod and whipped around. “This way Commandant.” He started moving not caring if the others were following.

  The two men stood on either side of Brea as they were led down out of the stock bay and into the internal workings of the ship. Curious glances from the crewmembers they encountered were met with the burning glare of Santari and an ice cold one from Araman as they were led down a short hall into the lift.

  The lift moved upwards for five seconds before the doors opened into a lounge area. The large oval portal offered a view of the lead ship’s bay doors. The overstuffed chairs promised a comfortable trip sitting in front of the rounded window. The young orderlies put the grips by the lift doors.

  “The bar is to the left. Fruits and snack trays are in the fridge underneath the counter. Enjoy you trips Sirs.” The two bolted for the opening held by the lead private as he spoke. There was a look of relief on the young faces as the lift doors glided shut.

  Santari headed for the bar for a much-needed drink.

  “Make it two.” Araman ordered.

  “Three please?” A soft voice spoke up from behind Araman. He turned
around to meet Brea’s eyes. “If that is permitted Commandant.”

  Something inside of Araman snapped at her use of his title and not his name. He hadn’t realized the anger showed in the icy stare he gave her. He only knew she shrank back from him. Araman silently cursed the orderly and his big mouth.

  “I’m reporting in with Herse.” The Commandant took his black mood into the lift leaving Santari to entertain Brea. He needed the distance from her cinnamon scent churning his insides prompting his behavior to act like an ancient Olean troglodyte still living in caves.

  “That is the first time I’ve watched him fight the urge to yell.” Santari commented after Araman was safely behind closed doors. “Do not worry about him Brea, come sit up here and talk to me.” Santari was holding a drink mixer up and shaking it in rhythmic motions from side to side.

  She stepped over and slid onto the smooth stool as Santari was pouring the frothy drink into tumblers. “I have no idea what these are called but they are good.” He handed out the glasses and raised his up. “Furlough has officially begun.” He gestured towards the bay doors outside the flyer opening.

  The ship slowly moved out of the doors. Two red Beams guided the flyer out into the open where the engines roared to life. Brea felt nothing when the lights of the stars streamlined into one as the flyer jumped into sonic drive.

  Brea took a sip of her drink. She coughed slightly as it burned its way down. It settled into the pit of her stomach. She could taste the fruity aftertaste of the mix.

  “Brea,” Santari said watching her set her drink down. She looked up at him expectantly. “There are those of us in the military because we lack the thought for farming or industries. There are many good things about Olean and those are the reasons we are here. To protect our world but we are also the ones trying to change archaic laws that were set in place to recover a dying race. We are no longer in threat of ruination.

  Marriage to a concubine was finally legalized fifty years ago. Progression of our cause is slow but hopeful.”

  Brea absorbed Santari’s explanation. “I understand. No world is perfect. Even Shinwa has its problems.” She took another sip. A thoughtful expression came over her face.

  Her pale green eyes glittered gold as she stared out the window into the cold darkness. “I wonder about this Terrian world the Commandant seems to like yet the women he dislikes.” Brea’s gaze turned back to Santari.

  “Terra is a beautiful world. It has terrain that changes from mountains to flat lands. Thick heavy rainforests, fields of wheat and its cities are fun.” He winked at her. “Terrian culture is very complex due to the diversity of it. There are people like you and me. There are sub-cultures and within those are rank and class. Living there is a nightmare of do’s and don’ts.”

  “Was it always so?” Brea asked thinking her world had never changed. But to her world, change meant danger to a fragile people.

  “No.” Santari shook his head. “At one time the world was at the brink of suicide. Factions killing other factions, nations ignoring the rules of war and engaging in world domination. Even their sciences contradicted each other. The entire world was chaotic.”

  “What happened?”

  “That’s rather interesting. You see in the Ancient Terrian history, a dominating force called the Romans who were brought down by their own doing. They used a metal called lead to make tubes to carry their drinking water. The water became poisoned and pretty much killed off the society. Domination became survival.

  Two millenniums later, a plague hit the entire world except for only a few nations. These nations closed their borders under the advisement of the United Nations Medical Agency. They were the ones to rebuild Terra.

  After many years of research they had discovered that there were several reasons as to what caused the plague. Chemicals in the food they used during the manufacturing eventually poisoned their societies. More chemicals were poured into the earth from the growing processes or disposals. The old earth scientists altered and cloned food trying to improve on nature. They also suspect the industries of the time pushed governments into using more chemicals for healing rather than the natural ingredients their world provided. They perversely banned anything natural. It was a strange concept.” Santari shook his head at the backward thinking of the old earthlings. “Lead in the water all over again, only on a global level.”

  “The countries that survived passed laws to protect their land and food from the poisons and genetic changes. With each new discovery of what caused the plague, laws were placed to avoid any one sector from ruling with dominance the powers to be. They managed to save and rebuild Terra into a fantastic planet.”

  “Then why does he hate the women so?” Brea asked.

  Santari made himself another drink. “As much as Terra is a beautiful land, the humans are the dangerous creatures of the world. Especially the women. One betrayed Araman. It was found out during a mission that our coordinates were being ambushed. Once is lucky, twice and you know, they know. Araman was nearly killed trying to save an underling.” He took a long swallow. “There was a mole in the division and Commandant could not find him. He went home early to prepare for a mission.” He poured Brea another one. “Quite by accident he discovered it was his wife who had been the Oleander Mole.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Died at her own hand,” Santari lied. He was told to stick with the official story. It was up to Araman to tell Brea the truth. A twinge of guilt flashed through his heart and quickly dissipated.

  Brea’s eyes slid to the smooth wall the lift hid behind. She understood his animosity towards the Terrian women. She looked back at Santari taking a swig of his drink. Brea sensed he lied but not to damage but to protect Araman.

  “And yet he admires the world so.” She murmured staring at her glass.

  “Terra has overcome and learned to accept differences within their own world even though they struggle with other worlds. His hope for Olean is it will accept all types of life with respect.” Santari told her.

  Brea nodded and gave a little sigh. “I hope for his sake it happens,” she wished out loud.

  Chapter Seven

  Araman stared at the screen scowling at the General’s fleshy face as he puffed on a cigar. The eyes scanned a piece of paper. An eyebrow rose has he peered out from the side of the report and looked at Araman.

  “You manhandled my orderly?” Herse asked.

  “I have already taken the liberty of apologizing to the parties involved Sir.” Araman said stiffly.

  “Hurrumph.” The paper shook. “It states it here.” A puff of smoke billowed above filling the screen. The sheet lowered and the general looked at him stuffing the cigar in his mouth.

  “Well, let’s hear it. Your side.” He drummed on the desk with his fingers impatiently.

  “The young orderly was disrespectful to my concubine. I regret to say my primal instinct got the better of me. It seems to be the effect of the Shinwa concubine on my pheromones. I tend to want to kill any male within twenty cubes of her.” His words were tight as he made his cold report. “I will accept any punishment deemed for my actions to show I am regretful of this incident.” The icy glare leveled on the large face in the viewer.

  “Consider yourself chastised. Just quit mauling the underlings. I need them alive. Dismissed.” Herse punched a pudgy finger to the console and the screen faded to the insignia of the general, two golden wings extending from the O for Olean.

  Araman let out a controlled breath. He rubbed the back of his neck thinking that one of Brea’s massages would do him a world of good. Preferably without the towel this time. The idea rolled through his mind of giving her the same pleasure she gave him.

  He turned around and left the small meeting room onto the deck of the ship. Stepping onto the lift a button on the left of him flashed. He pressed it.

  “Commander we are within twelve million cubits of Orpheaus Six. I was wondering if you would like us to drop out of sonic o
n the way in. Hyper drive will get us there within two hours rather than one.” He explained. “I thought your guests would like to see the view.”

  “Thank you, that would be most accommodating,” Araman said.

  “Better hurry sir, you don’t want to miss it either,” the friendly voice bid when he stepped off.

  “It’s Master Bates, Brea.” He heard Santari’s voice say.

  “Are you sure? In Shinwa it would be Master Batus.”

  “Yes, but it is Master Bates in Terrian.”

  Araman wondered what in the Frigg Santari was doing talking about masturbation to his concubine. He came around the bar to see the two heads crouched staring at the General’s glass cabinet.

  “And who was Master Bates?” Brea softly asked.

  “Some guy from an ancient Terrian story called Oliver Twist. The general has a thing for the post-medieval author.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Araman asked from behind startling Brea and Santari.

  “The mug.” He stepped aside and pointed to the crackled glazed piece of ancient drinking pottery with a picture of a very stout man holding up an overflowing beer stein.

  Araman straightened with a wry smile seeing the humor in his error. “Forgive me. It was a rather disturbing conversation to walk into.”

  Santari looked at him, then realizing the meaning burst out laughing. Brea looked at the two of them in disgust not knowing what to think. Her translator failed her once again. She did not understand what the meaning behind their words was nor could she see any humor.

  “Is there something else about this that is funny?” Brea asked Santari. When Santari backed off she looked to Araman. “Well?”

  “That’s your woman.” Santari pointed out flopping into an oversized chair.

  Brea looked up at him, “I am curious to know what made you laugh?” She smiled shyly up at him.

  “Master Bates sounds as our word for pleasuring ones self. It was why I was alarmed at your discussion.”