by Smith, S. E.
The animal blinked, pointing towards the rear of the ship, where the engine glowed hot, a gaping slash in the metal beside it. No, but I’d just walk in through that hole right there.
Swinging the flashlight the direction K’mi was pointing, Lyra banished her weird arousal and struck the confusing conversation from her mind, saying nothing of her observational lack of the obvious.
The inside of the ship didn’t look much better. Food rations destroyed, one engine was surprisingly intact, but useless without a ship to fly. A dozen survey beacons survived the impact, but she had no idea what they could be used for.
K’mi followed her as she made her way to the cockpit. She’d get a distress signal out, salvage what she could for a shelter, and wait. It could be awhile.
Surveyors were radio silent for months at a time while searching for new worlds, so no one would know of her situation. It was an extremely high risk job, which in turn meant excellent compensation. Not sure I’m getting paid enough for this.
Maybe she could try contacting those colonists, if they were close enough. Punching several buttons on the console, Lyra frowned. She switched every system she could to manual and tried dialing in several long range frequencies. Nothing.
Lowering herself into the pilot’s seat, she rested her head in her hand. I’m definitely not getting paid enough.
What went wrong anyway? Did an engine go out? Was the computer faulty?
The sounds of tree branches popping came from outside the ship, echoing in the air around them. Lyra’s head snapped up.
There are bad things in the forest, K’mi scooted closer to Lyra.
Standing up, Lyra walked towards the rear of the ship, flashlight shining out of the gaping hole into the darkness.
We should hide, K’mi whispered, grabbing her right leg and pulling her back.
A beast as big as the abominable snowman of Earth lore popped out of the forest, light catching its long saber teeth as it roared, vibrating Lyra’s very bones. Lightning pierced her heart as it barreled towards them.
A shadow raced in its path, knocking the monster sideways just as H’tch appeared in the opening. He barked twice and K’mi yelled, Let’s go!
Running from the back of the ship, Lyra saw the savage grappling with the beast, hands prying the monster’s jaw open, or maybe he was preventing those saber teeth from closing. His right hand slipped from the creature’s upper jaw and its long teeth sank into his right shoulder.
A’ryk roared.
H’tch charged, jaws closing on the beast’s face, blood erupting from its left eye. Holy stars. Lyra stood, unable to look away from the horrific scene. As H’tch threw his head side to side, the beast finally let go of A’ryk. It swiped at H’tch, dislodging him from its face before tossing the mogha aside.
K’mi bit at its hind quarters, but was kicked aside as well.
“Get the blaster,” Lyra heard A’ryk’s booming voice through the fog of shock.
Shaking out of it, she turned to see A’ryk pointing at something shiny on the ground underneath the beast. A blaster!
H’tch grabbed at the weapon but was knocked back. How was she supposed to get that gun without getting killed?
A’ryk staggered to his feet, right shoulder limp and bloody. He slid back to the ground as the beast rushed him, both moghas now attached to its body by their teeth, no effect on the enraged creature.
Forward momentum propelling him towards the gun, A’ryk kicked it. Lyra watched it skid across the snow, light from the wreckage fire glinting over its surface.
Okay, she could do this.
Running, hoping her movement wouldn’t attract the creature, Lyra dove on the gun, turning in time to miss the beast trying to pounce on her. A’ryk was on the ground, holding its foot to keep it from getting to her, his formidable fist crushing its toes, blood dripping from his hand where the claws had penetrated.
Adrenaline pumping fire in her muscles, Lyra took the shot. A laser beam went wide, missing its head by a foot.
“Dammit, human,” A’ryk snapped.
Concentrating, Lyra shot again.
The beast staggered back, the fatal shot hitting home. The moghas took the opportunity to find better gripping points and drug its thrashing body to the ground.
A’ryk released a loud sigh as he flopped onto his back, arms outstretched on either side of him. Then he groaned, grabbing his wounded shoulder.
Lyra rushed to his side, pulling a sleeve off her tunic to try and stop the bleeding. Only, it wasn’t bleeding that much anymore. And there appeared to be, was that circuitry? Was A’ryk a cyborg? Did cyborgs really exist?
Or maybe he lost the arm during the war and this was a prosthetic limb. He turned away as she tried to examine the wound further.
“Check on the moghas,” his gravelly voice was raspy.
K’mi nudged her arm while H’tch ran up and sniffed at A’ryk. You did great, K’mi said.
Lyra smiled at the praise and was about to tell A’ryk the moghas were fine when she realized he had fallen unconscious. Raising her hand, she hesitated for a second before brushing a strand of hair behind his ear.
He saved her. This was her fault for leaving the ice cave, but he came after her. If she was just a useless human, why would he do that?
His features were softened by his unconscious state, not exactly peaceful, but there was a handsomeness about him; she brushed another strand away. K’mi nudged her again and she jumped.
Both moghas were watching her, expressions unreadable. Well, it wasn’t as if she understood mogha expressions to begin with, but even the bond with K’mi was unreadable.
Lyra stood, searching out her flashlight to scout the landscape for some branches. “Okay, then. Let’s build something we can drag him back to the cave on.”
The moghas seemed to snap out of it and went about finding the materials needed.
Lyra looked at A’ryk’s unconscious form again, kneeling to examine his wound now that he couldn’t hide it. The bleeding had completely stopped and there was definitely circuitry beneath the surface of his skin. Suspecting the cybernetics were quelling the bleeding, she stripped the sleeve off the rest of his arm and noticed a tattoo of a triangle with a fist in it.
Did the tattoo have some meaning? One thing for certain, this Korthan was full of surprises.
5
Subroutine 896 Initializing. Consciousness reclaimed in Three…Two...One…
A’ryk groaned. Subroutines hadn’t run in a decade and now he was graced with them initializing two days in a row. Shoulder throbbing, he read through the damage report was scrolling across the backs of his eyelids.
He would heal quickly, the cybernetic nanites would see to that. Forced unconsciousness disturbed him, though, his systems having forced him to rest so the nanites could process the worst of it.
Feeling movement and soft fur, he opened his eyes. Both moghas were wrapped around him, sleeping peacefully but hyperaware of his presence.
There was no sign of the beast that attacked them. All blood had been cleaned away.
Glancing at his shoulder, he saw a bandage. His head thumped against the backboard of the sleeping platform. So, the human knew his secret.
She only knows part of it, H’tch said softly into his side.
The sooner he could get this female off his planet, the better. Not to mention she was affecting his emotions.
H’tch raised his head. So you admit it.
A’ryk groaned again. Mogha, impeccable talent for honing in on the most uncomfortable sensibilities. “I admit nothing.”
* * *
There was a problem; they didn’t have enough food.
Lyra searched what appeared to be the kitchen and only found a small bag of root like A’ryk gave her earlier. She smiled; alive and well, definitely wasn’t poisonous.
Surely A’ryk had a stash or a store of food somewhere, but where was it? Folding her arms, taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to ask the ill-humored
man, if he was awake yet.
Of course, she could ask K’mi, but she was stuck on this planet and needed to find some sort of mutual understanding with the Korthan. Having locked her in the ice cave, he didn’t intend for her to leave. And having failed to poison and then saving her from a saber-toothed bear, he didn’t intend for her to die. Despite the fact that she was human. Despite the fact he liked to remind her of that. What were his intentions, then? Did he even know?
As she entered his room, she paused. A’ryk was, indeed, awake. He was healing quickly. Whether that was because he was a Korthan or a cyborg, she didn’t know.
K’mi was sitting by his bed, leaning into his hand as he rubbed her ears. Murmuring softly, a slight smile graced his lips. He was clearly very fond of her. And that smile made Lyra’s heart skip a beat.
H'tch was lying across his lap, nose buried in his side, long fingers grasping around his lower back, clinging as if he’d disappear if let go. Even with as quickly as A’ryk was healing and seemed to be fine, it must have been a closer call than Lyra realized.
A board on the floor creaked under her foot. Both the moghas and the Korthan looked up. A’ryk’s mesmerizing smile vanished.
“This is your fault,” he said.
K’mi’s head bowed. Lyra could feel through the bond that the mogha felt responsible.
“It is,” Lyra said.
“K’mi never would have gotten that key if she wasn’t influenced by you,” A’ryk started and then paused. “Wait, did you say it is your fault?”
“Yes, it’s my fault,” Lyra said, imploring her mogha to accept that it was entirely her fault. “I’m sorry, I didn’t listen.”
A’ryk stared at her, a dumbfounded look on his face that was quickly replaced with something halfway between acceptance and pride that he was right and she was wrong. He cleared his throat, “Yes, well. Good.”
Lyra took a step towards him and he sat up straighter, eyes darting. “I didn’t believe you about the beasts; that was stupid,” she said. “I can’t exactly say you didn’t tell me about them. I was too worried you were keeping me prisoner. But you really weren’t.”
A’ryk looked at her then, intensity in his gaze that made her want to take a step back. “If you have a death wish, at least leave the mogha and lock the door when you go.”
His gaze didn’t really match his words. Lyra blinked. “You came to warn me. And I thank you for that.”
The Korthan leaned forward, shrugging. “I was going for K’mi. Moghas are extremely rare creatures.” Curling his fingers around her ears, the mogha’s leg thumped as he scratched vigorously.
Lyra laughed. That was an excuse if she ever heard one, but an excuse for what she couldn’t figure out. “Okay, A’ryk, whatever you say.”
A’ryk was watching her mouth, features soft. Was it because she laughed? “K'mi told you my name,” he said.
“Well, Monster does work, but I will call you A’ryk.” His lip twitched and Lyra’s eyes were drawn to his mouth this time. She quickly looked away, adding, “For K’mi.”
“Always for the moghas.” He coughed. “So, did you get in touch with the colonists?”
The colonists. Right. A’ryk’s end game was to make sure the colonists didn’t arrive to his world.
“I wasn’t able to, the radio is down.” She wasn’t about to say that she didn’t try for his benefit.
“I was afraid of that,” he murmured.
“Okay, so, now that we’re being civil to each other, you’re low on food.” Lyra was no longer concerned about the colonists or rescue or when and if they arrived. “Where do you find food on this planet? I’ll go get some while you rest.”
A’ryk laughed, the sound stirring an emotion in Lyra that she quashed immediately. K’mi’s antennae went up, head turning towards her.
Not a word, she thought at the mogha.
“Fishing is good on this world, but I doubt you could catch one. You can barely shoot a blaster,” A’ryk inspected his fingers. “We could eat the beasts. The meat will not have spoiled yet.”
If she wasn’t able to quash her stirring emotions herself, that sure did it. What an asshole. “I missed once. What matters is the beast is dead.” She wrinkled her nose, “And we are not eating those things. Gross.”
“After an eternity. It could have killed all of us.” Fingers apparently no longer interesting, A’ryk met her eyes. “And if you aren’t willing to eat it, then you aren’t hungry enough.”
“But it didn’t,” Lyra shook her head in exasperation. “You know what, I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’m going fishing.”
* * *
K’mi trotted after the woman. A’ryk watched them leave, a regard in his heart that he always had for the mogha along with a flutter that was entirely new.
There was a kind of joy in arguing with this Lyra. He frowned at himself. Yes, it was time for her to go.
If you give her your ship, K’mi will be gone too, H’tch said, still lying across A’ryk’s lap.
For the first time in his life, A’ryk didn’t know what to do. The human had to go, but he didn’t want to lose K’mi. “Do you have any suggestions?”
H’tch looked at him like he sprouted a second nose. A’ryk never asked for suggestions, but he wasn’t taking it back, genuinely interested in what H’tch might come up with.
The mogha shrugged. Go fishing?
A’ryk laughed. Knowing how much H’tch hated going out on the ice, that was a serious suggestion. “Okay, we’ll start with that.”
* * *
Lyra received a measuring glance from K’mi as the mogha caught up with her in the front room of the ice cave, where she first woke up. Feeling the same intent through the bond she felt when they were at her ship, K’mi said, Do you like him?
“Like who?” Lyra searched through the contents of the shelves. There were boxes aplenty, but where did the Korthan keep his fishing supplies? “H'tch? Yea, he’s only the second mogha I’ve ever known, but I like him.”
Not H’tch, K’mi said. A’ryk.
Lyra blew dust off a pyramid-shaped object. It reminded her a little of the tattoo. “Well, I’m stuck here with him, so I guess I have to deal with him.”
K’mi sat on her haunches, puzzlement radiating through the bond. I’m still learning how to read you. I swear I thought you were feeling something for him.
Lyra paused as she lifted a lid to what looked like a preservation box; empty. She let it drop. “You mean like like him? Of course I don’t like him. He’s nasty and rude.”
Wow, I read you all wrong, K’mi said.
“He’s a war-mongering savage. I can never like someone like him.”
The mogha rocked back, shock echoing through the bond, What makes you say that? The measuring look returned. You haven’t thought of him as a savage from the moment he diverted that saber-bear’s attack.
“The Korthans started the war against us. We needed to find a habitable planet or we were going to become extinct. The savages were ruthless, killing children.”
You didn’t fight in the war. Is that what they taught you? Was that pity? What the hell?
“Well, yes, but—”
K’mi’s eyes flashed. Well, the humans nearly wiped out the moghas when they terraformed our world.
The humans terraformed their world? Weren’t moghas from Korth? Korth hadn’t been terraformed, not to her knowledge.
No, Korth was just razed to the ground. If the bitterness in K’mi’s voice hadn’t nearly made her heart stop, the deep sadness Lyra felt through the bond would have. Before we were Hellhounds of Korth, we were simply moghas. The Korthans saved as many of us as they could. We always had these special bonds with the Korthans. Facing invaders and extinction, we fought back, using our bonds with them to do so.
Lyra’s breath was unsteady, dizziness setting in. Humans weren’t supposed to terraform worlds with life on them. If she hadn’t felt the truth of it through the bond, she would have doubted every wo
rd K’mi said. What other atrocities had the humans committed during the war?
All she could think to say was, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that.”
You didn’t fight in the war. It’s not for you to be sorry, K’mi’s bitterness dissipated, replaced with forgiveness and acceptance.
“But I am human.”
And my alpha, so you can’t be all that bad.
“Um, thanks?”
There was a creak and then a clatter of loose boards as H’tch trotted in, followed closely by A’ryk. They both stopped, looking between Lyra and K’mi at the same time.
Lyra cleared her throat, willing the shock away. “I can’t find any fishing poles.”
A’ryk’s eyes narrowed and then he sidestepped over the floor until there was a hollow sound. He swept aside the saber-beast skin covering several boards. No, it was a hatch made of doors, Lyra realized. Opening the hatch, he pointed down.
There was equipment of all sorts; baskets, traps, an area off to the side that looked to be carved from the ice. It was probably acting as a refrigerator, judging by the coolness of the air, but there wasn’t any food. There was clearly more to the room, but she couldn’t see through the darkness. She saw what appeared to be hand-made lures, but didn’t see any fishing poles.
Lyra was about to remark about the lack of what they actually needed, when she noticed a stack of clothing and helmets. Were those space-worthy helmets? Two were small enough to fit K’mi and H’tch. Looking closer at the clothing, she realized it was flight suits. What else was down there?
A’ryk brushed past her and grabbed the lures, several stick-like things with flags on them, a bundle of something that looked like spikes, a giant spiral, an axe, and a few balls of string with small hooks dangling. Weren’t they supposed to have poles to catch fish?
As he withdrew from the space, he moved a tarp over the suits and helmets. He probably thought she didn’t see them, so Lyra decided not to mention it. She’d investigate later.
