Voland: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Warriors of Orba Book 3)

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Voland: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Warriors of Orba Book 3) Page 14

by Zara Zenia


  “What are you looking for?” One of my team shouts from behind me.

  “I don’t know yet,” I answer. “I’m still figuring things out.”

  I see something move, another being. They’re tall, slender, ethereal, and calm as they walk across the space in front of me. I see them enter one of the vehicles, then watch as it disappears around a bend.

  “What was that? I hear something.”

  I can hear the team behind me spruce themselves up and get back on their feet.

  “Is anyone hurt?” I turn around to check everyone.

  They all look themselves over before shaking their heads.

  “I’m scared,” says the youngest, Victorinth.

  “Me too,” I admit. “But we’ll be fine if we stick together.”

  We all nod at one another to show we’re in agreement.

  “But what was that?” asked Victorinth again. “What was that noise?”

  She rushes to the window and looks out. Seeing nothing, she turns back around.

  “It was a craft,” I explain.

  “Like this one?” She runs to her brother, Jarick, and clings onto him.

  “No. It looks nothing like this one. It was smaller, much smaller, and did not leave the ground,” I explain.

  “It didn’t leave the ground?” Jarick asks, bewildered. “How strange.”

  I can see him churn the idea around in his mind, the cogs of his brain whirring as he tries to figure it out.

  “Then how did it move?” he finally asks.

  “With wheels on the ground.”

  “Like… What the primitives used back in the olden years?” He’s aghast.

  “Yes, something like that.” I look solemnly to the ground. “But never mind that. We have to formulate a plan for ourselves.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Ethazol says, stepping forward. “We can’t stay here forever, we’re a sitting target.”

  “Always the sensible one,” I smile at him.

  Walking back over to the window, I look out once more for signs of danger. Every now and again, the beings pass by, but they don’t so much as look over at us. It confuses me.

  “I don’t think anyone can see us. Not the craft, anyway. It appears the body work done before takeoff works here too.”

  “You mean the diversion worked?” Jarick asks.

  “Yeah,” I keep my sight outside the craft. “We’re safe for now, I hope.”

  I’m so busy being lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice the human getting closer and closer until it’s too late. It’s striding purposely right to us, as though it doesn’t know we’re here. He’s walking briskly, so briskly in fact that it's only a few breaths until he’s right at the window.

  “Look!” I shout at the crew.

  They all huddle around the window and gasp as they see him approach, closer and closer until…

  “Argh!”

  We hear him yell. He’s walked right into our craft, his face crumpling against the metal fragments of our broken ship. He pulls away hurt. There’s a red substance coming out the center of his face. It trickles down into his mouth and covers his teeth.

  We all remain silent as we try to figure out what has happened. The human looks to be in a state of shock. He tries to walk again but once again he hits the window.

  “What the hell?” We hear him say.

  He takes a couple steps to the side and tries to walk again. Yet, just like before, he walks into the craft. He takes another couple steps to the side and repeats and still, he can’t get anywhere. I watch as a look comes over his face. It’s a look of terror, one that shows his ideas of reality tearing at the seams.

  “I almost feel as though I want to go out there and help him,” I say as I see him fail over and over again to get to where he’s going.

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Ethazol claps a hand to my shoulder. “We are in enough trouble,” he explains. “No use in complicating things.”

  Yet we watch enraptured for a long while as the man attempts to get around the ship. At one point, we watch him stop for a little while. He looks exhausted and just stands still, looking down at his body. It’s then that he places a hand on his gut and then examines his fingers.

  “Oh my god…” We can hear him muttering through the walls. “What is this?”

  As we look at his hands, we see there is a peculiar green substance attached to his fingers. It seems as though his body has come into contact with our jet fuel, and we can only hope that he remains safe with the chemical on his body.

  “Don’t go out there, Benzen.” Jarick turns to me. “I know what you’re like. You want to help everyone, but right now you have to focus on just helping us get out of this ship and somewhere safe.”

  I nod.

  “Very well. It appears you know me too well.”

  We’re all silent for a moment as we contemplate what we have to do.

  “What were those things on his body?” Victorinth blurts out eventually.

  “I’m not sure,” I answer.

  “It looked like some sort of body armor, but not for combat,” she says as she bites on her lower lip in deep thought.

  “Yeah you’re right,” I agree. “That is what it looked like. I saw the others out there wearing them too.”

  “Well then, we’ll have to get them,” Ethazol commands. “Or we’ll be noticed.”

  We Orbas wore very light attire, usually a large piece of cloth across our bodies. Unless, of course, we are in battle.

  We all stand around looking at one another, trying to figure out how to get these items onto our bodies.

  “I have an idea,” I say, glancing out the window and seeing the man still out there, examining the jet fuel on his body. “I need to concentrate, but I think there’s a chance I can do it.”

  “What are you talking about, Benzen?” Jarick laughs. “You and your ridiculous ideas,” he shakes his head.

  “Me and my ridiculous ideas might help us stay alive,” I explain to him without anger in my voice. “So just bear with me.”

  As young Orbans, many of us are trained from an early age to partake in activities that suit our minds and bodies the best. Ethazol’s particular talent, for instance, was being authoritative and intellectual. That is why he was taught from a young age to have engaging leadership skills and a clear thinking mind that could deal with problems in front of him. However, his talent does not extend to thinking outside of usual situations, and so he is only performing at his best in already learned scenarios.

  I, on the other hand, inherited my talent. It came from my mother, a being so vastly special that she could create any talent she pleased. Yet she only chose ones that could be good for the planet, ones that would benefit others before herself.

  When I came into being, she chose a talent for me that she said suited my personality. She waited until I was old enough to form opinions and congruent thoughts before she sat me down and asked:

  “Benzen… What do you want to do when you are older?”

  I thought for a second, looking into her opal eyes before I answered:

  “I want to be able to move anything anywhere, but with my mind.”

  I remember watching her sit back in thought for a moment before she raised her hands and declared:

  “Very well,” she held me. “I will give you the ability to have a mind that transcends the body.”

  “All of us Orbans are also warriors by nature. We only use our training when our race is threatened by another group of lifeforms.”

  Now, inside the ship, I wish that she were here to guide me through the ability she had gifted me. It has been so long since I used it, but I'm sure that deep down, I have not forgotten its inner workings.

  “Crew, you must support me for a moment. Stay calm and remain quiet.”

  They all look at me as though I am not behaving in the most appropriate way. Yet they're quite used to this, as I'm always the one that strays behind the rest. I’m smaller than they all are, bu
t not by much. I am six feet tall, but they are only a few inches taller. I act in different ways at times, but they now see that I can do something most extraordinary, and that there is a great happiness that comes from being peculiar.

  I have been alive for 24 years thus far. Victorinth was born after me, but by only one year. The rest are a few years older than me. I will eventually be as tall as them, but it just takes some more time to grow to their height.

  I crouch at the window and look to the man outside. The look of terror has not left his eyes, and I knew that at any moment, it could only get worse.

  “Stay calm, Benzen,” I whisper to myself. “You can do it.”

  Focusing my mind, I put all my strength into remembering my mother as I look at the man and… transfer his clothes from his body, through the ship and onto me.

  “Well done, Benzen!” Victorinth cheers.

  “Quite the talent!” Jarick slaps me on the back. “Now all you gotta do is find five more of these creatures so you can camouflage the rest of us.”

  Chapter 2-Benzen

  It takes a while, waiting for five more people to walk past the ship, but once they do, obtaining their cloaking is easy. However, seeing their unarmored bodies is most peculiar. Once their outerwear is taken away, they shriek and panic, running around in circles in the most confused manner. Of course, we mean them no harm, but… we are pleased we can look like them now.

  I glance at my crew and see that we are all covered and more or less look like the same creatures that are outside, save for the dark blue color of our bodies. Yet the people here vary in so many ways. Some are tall, some are short, some are thin like us, and others are wide. They have varying shades of skin color, and no two have the same coverings. This is good for us, as it means our differences will not look so out of place. We can only hope…

  “I think I can lead us from here,” Draygus steps forward.

  He is a wise member of the crew and has been studying the humans for quite some time. Without question, we follow him out the craft and into the open air.

  “It smells so….different,” Victorinth remarks, wrinkling up her nose.

  “And it’s cold, too,” I say.

  With my feet pressing into the new ground, I feel its texture and the way it feels solid against my toes. Our world back home has a spongier disposition and more give when you walk on it. The ground back home is softer, but this is…harsh.

  The most confident member of our group, Voland, is ahead of us all. He’s staring up at the bright lights of the building, his eyes glazed over with wonder.

  “I always dreamed of seeing new lands,” he says. “Yet I can scarcely believe we are here.”

  “We have made it safely,” I lay a hand on his shoulder. “Let us go inside.”

  As we walk in through the door, we see the space is vast and expansive inside and well lit. It reminds me very much of a spacecraft, yet one that is bigger than any others I’ve seen. We all look to Draygus for guidance as we cross the threshold of the building.

  “What now?” I whisper, scared that we will be noticed. “What do we do in here?”

  “I think I know what is going on,” Draygus says in a deep tone as he walks by my side. “I have read about places like this in books. They are safe places.”

  “Safe?” Victorinth huddles by his side. “How do you know this?”

  “Because,” he points up towards to sky. “Because there is so much light.”

  We gaze up to the brightness raining down on us.

  “Why are you so sure it’s safe?” I ask.

  “Humans always feel safe in well-lit spaces. It is the darkness they fear. Places with great amounts of blackness are dangerous to humans and are avoided at all costs,” he explains to me in a voice he puts on when trying to make us feel like children.

  We nod at his words and look all around us at the many sources of light, trying to cultivate the feeling that they are keeping us safe.

  “Very well,” Draygus nods. “We’ll keep moving.”

  I have to admit that as we make our way through the building with our new footwear squeaking against the floor, I have a strange and nervous feeling inside me. Everything is so new and bizarre. There are countless things I don’t understand, devices I see people holding, and I don’t know why. There is a great cacophony of smells permeating my nostrils all at once. We pass by one place in particular that seems the worst to me, despite the person outside being friendly.

  It is like a building within a building, a place which Draygus explains to me is called a ‘shop.’

  “Shop,” I chew the word around my mouth. “It is a word of such peculiarity and explains nothing of what I’m looking at.”

  “A shop,” he looks down at me, “is a place in which things can be traded.”

  I look inside the window of this shop and see glass bottles. They are everywhere, and it’s as though their smells are trying to entice me through the gap in the door. They are all so strong, almost putrid.

  “Why would anyone want these?” I wave my hand at the place.

  “From what I can gather,” Draygus scratches his chin, “people buy these tiny bottles and spray the contents on themselves as part of a mating ritual.”

  “Oooohhhh,” I mouth as if I understand, although I certainly do not.

  There’s a person with long hair and a glowing mouth at the front door. Her lips are red and vivid, her teeth perfectly straight and gleaming white. She has huge and spindly tentacles coming from her upper eyelids.

  “Draygus!” I clutch at his arm. “Is that dangerous? That person there?”

  “No… I think that is a human woman.”

  “Hmmmm…”

  She sees me paying her attention and comes forth with a little piece of card in her hand.

  “Are you looking to buy some perfume today?” she asks, her mouth twisted up into an unwavering smile.

  I’m terrified of her and the way she is so close to me, so eager to engage with me. I shrink away from her and shake my head.

  “Well, you can take a sample and come back another time. Have a nice day,” she steps back to her original spot and proceeds to ask the exact same question to another person that walks by.

  I look down at the card.

  “Is this toxic?” I ask Draygus. “It smells toxic.”

  Pushing my nose up to the outer corner of the card, I take a short, sharp whiff of the mysterious substance that coats it. It makes my eyes water, and I recoil away from it.

  “Urgh! It’s terrible,” I sneeze. “Humans like this?”

  Victorinth, seeing my distress, comes and urges me to carry on walking with the rest of the group.

  “It can’t be that bad,” she laughs. “Let me smell,” she takes the card from me and breathes in. “Hmm. I actually quite like it. I think I’ll keep this.”

  “Please do,” I breathe a sigh of relief as she takes it from me.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the group is in just as much awe as I am, with their eyes wide and staring at all the different colors and textures that are before us. In the center of the building, at various intervals, are metal tracks that glide down to the floor below. I see a sign to the left of each one:

  ESCALATOR

  “Hey Draygus,” I run to catch up with him. “Have you seen those?”

  “Escalators,” he says. “I have.”

  “Are they like primitive versions of the ascenders we have back home?”

  “They very much are,” he nods. “Except they don’t seem to be powered by the air like ours are. They seem to run on a less efficient fuel.”

  “Hmm,” I look at each one as we pass by. “I think they are very interesting.”

  While the others are more interested in looking in each shop window, I am more focused on the mechanics of the building. The escalators, as well as the boxes I see travel up to the roof with cables on each end, and the way one human is dealt the task of owning a miniature craft that cleans the floor. He must be a very imp
ortant human, because everyone else has to walk.

  As we reach the end of the building, we find ourselves faced with a shop that is about fifty times bigger than the others. This one is the busiest of all and has a large stock of goods.

  “Where are we now?” Voland and Ethazol ask in unison.

  “This shop is one for food,” Draygus says, pointing inside.

  “Food!” Jarick is so excited at the thought he almost shouts. “I thought we’d never eat again.”

  We try to enter the shop via one of the doors, but it does nothing, and I watch as Jarick walks face-first into the glass.

  “I don’t understand,” he rubs his head. “Those ones over there open,” he points to the ones further down the shop front.

  We all line up in front of the other sliding doors, and to our delight, they glide open.

  “It must have been an amalgamation of all our minds,” Jarick says. “There’s no way the humans have good enough technology to have motion sensors.”

  “I agree,” his little sister Victorinth nods. “The humans seem ever so primitive.”

  As we walk into the shop, we discover it is far brighter than all the others and to me—at least, it smells a lot more pleasant. In fact, it smells so good that I begin to salivate at the prospect of eating all the things I see in front of me.

  I reach out my hand and pick up something that is round and red. It feels slightly hard to the touch, but once I grip it, the skin breaks and the fleshy inside is revealed. I take a bite, the juice inside reviving me.

  “Don’t do that,” Draygus knocks it from my hand. “You have to trade for the food here. You can’t just take it.”

  “Trade?”

  “Yes. With money.”

  “Money? Is that like the currency of the Rigel Credits back home?”

  “It is, Benzen.”

  “But we don’t have any human money!”

  I’m desperate now. After being tempted by the food I feel I need it more than ever, even if I don’t know what any of it is.

 

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