by Rebel West
“Dr. Taylor?” His voice is amused. “The zebb?” He raises one eyebrow and points to the field behind us.
I start to scramble to my feet and he reaches down and just picks me up, setting me on my feet. Just like that, as if I weigh no more than a few pounds.
“Is that typical to do, here?” I adjust my hair, my arms tingling where he touched me with those strong hands.
“Bend down and worship the grass as if it contained the Goddess Sirene herself?” He smiles. “Not very typical, no.”
“Not me. You. Picking me up. Do men here pick up women, like, a lot?” My cheeks grow warm. I’m new to this planet, but I swear there’s a pure male appreciation in his eyes when he looks at me.
“Men here, and women, help each other when assistance is required.” He smiles.
“But if you were out in public with someone else, say. Like, your brother. And he was on the ground. Would you pick him up?”
“If my brother were on the ground, it would be because I put him there with my fists.” He grins and raises both hands. “We engage in a sport called Bakkari. It’s similar to what you call boxing. I usually beat him.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I blow out a breath, certain now that he’s teasing me. But why? Is he flirting, or just doing what he said—trying to make me comfortable?
“Then you should say what you mean. It makes things far simpler. Come, let’s see the zebb, because we have a tight schedule to keep.”
I frown, but follow his lead to the field. There are no fences or gates, and the zebb appear to have many square miles of fields and forest to enjoy. He walks right up to one of the creatures, and reaches out to touch its flank.
“It’s a real live unicorn,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Can I touch it? Do I need to let it smell me, first?” I extend my hand.
“Talk to her softly,” he says, “in a gentle voice. Tell her she’s pretty. The zebb like a soft voice.”
“But I don’t speak her language.” I reach out. “Hey, pretty girl,” I croon. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you. I’m so excited, I can’t even say.” The purple and lavender striped fur is rough, and a little oily—kind of like a bristlier horse. But the mane, oh! The mane flows like silk and is as soft as the grass.
I step closer. “Can I touch her horn?”
The long silver horn extends out from the creature’s forehead, and her large eyes, beautiful soulful eyes, blink.
“No, I’d not. Wait until you know her better. She’ll let you know when you can.”
“How? How will she do that?”
He smiles. “You’ll have to come back out here and find out.”
“Will I get that chance?” I move closer, murmur again to the zebb, and plant a kiss on its side. “You’re gorgeous,” I say. “You’ve been in all my dreams when I was a girl, did you know that? I’m from a different planet, and I dreamed of you. Is that crazy?”
The animal turns to look at me, its large purple eyes intent, curious. “I love you,” I tell the animal, and I mean it. What a fantastic creature! How can you not love something so magnificent? The animal makes a little noise, sort of a whinny, and I swear it sounds pleased.
Then the animal makes a new sound, one of distress, and shakes, her whole body racked with tremors.
I step back, hand to my mouth, eyes wide. “Did I do something?” I turn to Lock, hands out. “What’s wrong?” I look back at the creature. “What is it?”
The animal stops trembling, but her leg quivers once, and again.
Lock sighs. “Some of the animals have been falling ill. The animal scientists have relocated them here, close to the research facility, to study and help. I don’t know the details.”
“Are they going to be okay?” A sudden panic suffuses me at the thought of this fantastic creature being sick.
Lock’s voice is taut. “I certainly expect so. But it had not been my top priority.”
“Of course, you’re concerned with matters of state. I understand.” I stroke the animal again. “I hope the researchers can help them heal soon.” The animal leans into my hand, as if grateful for the touch.
I turn to Lock. “You have no idea how many little girls on Earth would literally die if they knew there were unicorns here. Oh, my God. You could get so many tourists. I can’t even imagine.”
“Luminar is not currently interested in tourism.” His voice is curt. “Nor is Earth. We are not at that point in our negotiations.”
“Yes, I know. We’re just starting the bare bones of the science exchange program. I’m just saying. Even if it’s a hundred years from now. All the Earth girls are going to be so crazy excited. You won’t be able to imagine it.”
* * *
Back in the pod, he tells me about Luminar’s history of civil wars and peace. The way they had learned to rely on solar energy instead of fossil fuels. About his nephew, a small child who has a mischievous streak and likes to tease his parents by downloading new languages onto his learning chip and speaking to them in tongues they cannot understand. How his sister is lucky to have even one child, as reproduction rates are falling lately - again. How researchers think they might need assistance from Earth, because it may be due to radiation from their thinning atmosphere.
What I find most fascinating is his personal conviction that it is only by combining powers, sharing resources, that both humans and Luminarians will be successful in setting up their planets to survive hundreds of thousands of years into the future. That even the very survival of our species might depend on us joining forces in unique ways.
“I couldn’t agree more!” I lean forward to touch his leg, needing to communicate how important this is to me, too. “I feel it in my bones.” I pull back, but meet his eyes. “There are parts of my planet that are so broken.”
Is it political folly to tell the near-ruler of another world that yours is a mess? Surely he already knows. “You know of the Villages? Even President Matumba, leader of the United North America, can’t or won’t fix it. And he’s the best one we’ve had in decades. Maybe a century.”
Lock nods. “Your politicians are weak and greedy at this point in time. They do need help.”
“Earth politicians won’t want to accept help from outsiders, not at first. But maybe the knowledge can trickle in, and affect people by osmosis.” I laugh, but he’s solemn, watching me. “Trick of psychology, I don’t know. But it’s not just that. We need minerals from your planet, but also the things you can’t hold. New technologies.”
Lock leans forward. “We had some issues like that, Cali, like your strife, but it was, in your time measurements, over five hundred years ago. Now we are more peaceful, although the rebels…” His eyes drift past me to the countryside, and his fists clench. “We have clashes in the Northern Territories, where the agricultural communities are being stirred up against the monarchy by rebel missionaries. They call themselves missionaries.” He twists his lip. “They are against progress and against sharing with Earth. They stage demonstrations in the cities, in Thore. They are getting violent.”
“We have clashes all the time in our world, these days.” I touch my cheek. “It’s depressing. Every time I get excited about a new invention, something in the medical field, I look up and it’s just a drop in the bucket. Not even a bucket. A drop in a raging inferno, a drop that gets vaporized instantly and doesn’t even make it to the blaze. No matter how hard I work, no matter how many ways I come up with to extend life or cure diseases, there are other forces fighting to obliterate life, and they’re working harder than I ever can. It’s like I don’t make a difference anymore.”
Lock touches my hand, and I look down, realizing my fist is clenched so tightly that my nails dig into my skin. I laugh a little and release my grip, and we both look at the even row of half-moons embedded into my skin.
Lock picks up my hand and the spark that shoots to my chest makes me gasp. When I meet his eyes, I think he feels it, too; he has a look on his face, uncertain,
but full of hunger, that startles me.
“I’m sure you make a difference,” he says, letting go of my fingers. “That’s why we asked for you. You specifically. You’re the best on your world at what you do.” The words are simple, but the heat in his voice indicates that this is not an idle compliment.
I flush. “I am. And that’s part of what terrifies me. If I’m the best neurologist, and I can’t make positive changes on Earth, measureable ones that matter, how in the hell are we going to move forward, and not fall into utter destruction? If the other bests in their fields are lost like I am, tiny dots in the sky, how can we ever fix things?” I clench both hands together. “I think we need something new. Something to inspire us. We’ve lost religion on Earth, for the most part. We need a new icon, a hope for the future. Something exciting, the knowledge that things can improve.”
“And what will that be?” He leans forward, his eyes intent on mine.
“I don’t know. I just know that we need something.”
* * *
Back in my room, he sits on the wide window ledge. With his legs partly spread, his powerful thighs are mesmerizing. I force myself to look at his face as he speaks. “Do you feel like you are starting to understand anything about this world?”
“Of course.” He doesn’t say it like a challenge, but I feel one in the words. “Thank you for showing me around today.”
“What did you learn? What did you see?” His eyes scan me. He crosses his arms and his muscles stand out, highlighted by the position.
“Well.” I blink, cross my arms, too, and look out the grand window at the buildings, the flowing hills, toward the direction where I think we saw the zebb. “What did I learn? Well, that your world has amazing architecture. So modern, yet so ancient, at once. That you focus on tech and medicine. That your society is very advanced. That your animals are so amazing and so pretty.” I pause.
He lets out a sigh and stands. “No.”
Chapter Seven
“No?” I furrow my brow. “Those things aren’t so?”
“They are so.” His voice is curt. “But that’s all surface. What else did you see? Think.”
I look up at his face. “What do you mean, exactly?”
“At the core.” He grabs one fist with the other palm. “What did you see below that?” Without waiting for me to answer, he gives the reply. “Ah, but you can’t, can you. It’s only been one sun. A few segs. How could anyone grasp a culture, a world in that time? One can’t do it in a lifetime.” He turns and paces the chamber.
I blink. “Well, I learned—you have a sense of humor. Honor. Care for your people.” I pull details from other things he’d told me while we were riding in the pod. “You’ve said that women are equal in society when it comes to work and jobs, although they, ah, in personal relationships, it’s different, although you didn’t elaborate on that. “ I cough and add, “You care to right wrongs and fix diseases. Is that what you mean?”
“A bit.” He sighs again.
I put a hand to my chest and tap. “But you’re right. There’s no way I could learn the soul of a place from one day. Just the briefest knowledge.” I choose my words carefully. “On the way back from the zebb, you mentioned the rebellion group, and when you did it, you were… tense. I gather that it’s a bigger deal than anyone on Earth knows. Is that correct?” I hold my breath. “We know that you have rebels here who are against the current monarchy and who don’t want humans visiting. But are they, maybe, a bigger threat than you’ve told us?”
When he meets my eyes, I know that I hit on the truth, and it makes me feel nauseated. I’ve only been here a day and I’m in love with the place. The thought of rebels hoping to destroy what exists here? It’s unthinkable.
“Yes,” he says slowly. “The rebel group has been gaining force, and the fact that humans are visiting is their call to action. They are stirring up anti-human and anti-monarchy sentiment in the conservative part of the population that wants us to stay isolated. I’m afraid it might lead to a larger clash.”
“That... I’m sorry.” I bite my lip. “We have groups like that on Earth, too, the ones who think we should have nothing to do with Luminar except bomb it.” Then I blanch. “I mean, God, I don’t agree. And they don’t even have the capability to do it if they really wanted to, of course, and they’re just full of hot air, and they’re a small group, even if they’re vocal, so there’s no way they could ever—”
He lifts one hand. “My brother is ill.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t expect this. “I hope he feels better soon?” I wind my hands together.
Lock barks out a laugh. “Better soon. Yes.” He turns and gazes out the window. “Can I trust you in the future to obey the rules we’ve set up for you, in the NDA and here at the palace? My rules?”
“Yes. I already apologized for—”
“The apology is nothing without the action. Will your actions back it up?”
“Yes.”
He approaches me until he’s close as before. He looks into my eyes, as if checking, then nods. “My brother, the crown prince, is not just ill. He is very ill. He may die.”
“Oh, God.” I put a hand to my mouth. “But, oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Yes. Thank you. This is the reason you are here.”
“I’m a researcher, not a personal physician.” My mind races, trying to understand.
“We’ve had the best doctors here on Luminar working with him for hects now—months, as you call them—and he is still worsening. Our best neurologists. Nobody knows what to do. We decided to reach out to the best on Earth, discreetly. You’re our last hope.” His mouth twists into a grimace. “It’s risky to bring you here and there is only a small chance that a human doctor could diagnose and fix what a Luminarian couldn’t. But I’ll try anything.”
“You think it’s a neurological illness?” I automatically start cataloguing possibilities.
He nods. “You can see for yourself when you meet him and examine him later on. But yes, we do.”
“His symptoms?”
“Muscular twitches and jerks, involuntary fasciculations, to use Earth terminology. A stutter. Dizziness and impaired vision. And the worst…” He hesitates. “Moments of impaired judgement.”
“Okay.” I wait for him to continue.
“The public… we can’t hide this much longer. But we need him to be whole. We need him.” His voice grows impassioned. “Right now with the political situation we’re in on Luminar, we can’t lose our prince.”
“No.”
“Our enemies, if they get word of this, will use it as political fodder to support the rebels and suggest overthrowing the monarchy. We’re worried that they’ll use it as an example of why the monarchy should be dissolved. They’ve already floated rumors about monarchical inbreeding and how there are genetic susceptibilities in the royal line. It’s not true. At least, it never was.”
He frowns. “We can’t have anything right now to upset the status quo, because this rebellion is gaining strength and we can’t afford that, with the squabbles to the north and with our need to protect barriers and… engage in this new relationship with Earth. We need to be strong and united as a country. Any dissent needs to be stamped out.”
“So you think that the rebels will use his illness, if they find out about it, to slander the whole royal family?” The possibilities are disturbing.
“I know they will. They’re tried such things before with lies. If they know of an actual illness?” He shakes his head. “I’m concerned they’ll gain more credence and followers. I don’t need this. We can’t waste time on suppressing a rebellion when we could be solving issues that affect Luminarian health and lives. And even if it wasn’t about that—he’s my brother.”
“I understand.” I swallow, this new information combining with the things I’ve learned in my studies back on Earth. Nobody there knows how serious the rebellion on Luminar really is. “I—I am not an expert on the Luminarian body, but I
have studied Luminarian anatomy and physiology from the books and manuals available through the exchange. And I am Earth’s top neurologist in research. I’ve done clinical studies and research. I will be glad to help in any way I can.” A simultaneous burst of adrenaline and terror surges through me, and I stand tall. “Tell me what I can do.”
“I will not get my hopes up, or put unrealistic expectations on you.” His voice is not unkind, but still, I stiffen. He runs a large hand through his dark blue hair. “But like I said. We’ll try anything.”
“So I’m your local crackpot psychic called in to locate the missing runaway,” I mutter, taking a deep breath.
“What?”
“An Earth reference. Last resort, even if it makes no sense. Just to say you tried.”
“Yes.”
“Well, try I will. I’m here.”
“I need you to grasp the gravity of this whole situation. You see? It’s no light matter. This is life and death. Not just for him, but possibly for our political situation and regime. The rebels are against human interactions, and also against genetic research and some modern technology as well, calling it invasive and intrusive. They are calling for less government interference in daily existence. And they’re getting violent.
“Maxxon has a way with words and the citizens love him. Losing him at this point would be a drastic setback. I don’t want to get into a situation where I need to use the guards to enforce order; our society will lose trust if that happens. We need Maxxon to stay healthy so he can allay the fears of our citizens as we increase interactions with humans.”
“I do understand now. I didn’t, before. I’d like to meet your brother and see what I can learn.” I can’t promise that I’ll figure things out, even if I hope I will with all of my heart.
“Then let’s go.” He offers his arm. The gesture is now familiar, and again, spires of desire launch just from touching his strong muscled forearm. He clenches up slightly when I touch him, then relaxes—is he feeling the sparks, too? I shoot a glance at his face and find him looking right at me.
