by Smith, S. E.
No. When everyone is distracted with my execution, take the moghas and go. Use the code, 3-5-8-2-1.
Of their own accord, Lyra’s feet carried her to the spot where A’ryk was chained. They stared at each other, intense gazes piercing the other’s soul. A gust of cold wind tugged at Lyra’s hair.
How is this possible. Why can I hear you? She continued to talk to him in her mind. Out loud voices would no doubt alert his captors.
Because you synced with me, the ship.
The thought of him made her heart warm and her stomach flutter. And what she felt while flying the ship—
Holy stars.
There was more than just ‘hearing’ him. She felt like she knew him, like she always knew him. And she knew, without doubt, that this Korthan didn’t kill innocents, that perhaps no Korthan had. But the humans did, by the thousands when they bombed the Korthan homeworld.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a binding bond. Use the code and you’ll be free of it.” If A’ryk was reading her thoughts, he didn’t show it.
She wasn’t worried, quite the opposite. She didn’t want to be free of this bond and was about to say just that when Rod walked up. So much for not alerting the captors.
“Is everything okay here?” the Marshall said.
Mind racing, Lyra’s thoughts froze when a roar in the distance had everyone’s heads swiveling towards the sound; the roar of an ice bear. Lyra didn’t think her dread could get any deeper.
It’s okay, A’ryk soothed. They won’t be attacking tonight.
A slight calm came over her, unfreezing her thoughts. Thinking quickly, Lyra said to the Marshall, “Don’t worry about that. Those creatures are harmless.” To A’ryk, Forgive me if I’m not as optimistic. They attacked you in your sleep.
They study patterns, he explained. This is a temporary camp, so they don’t know the patterns of their prey here yet. If we stayed several nights, they’d figure out the layout and routine movements of everyone, then attack when they see an advantage. I’ve been here a long time. They found an opportunity when the door was unlocked. A pause. And there was time enough to study the wreckage of your ship before that attack.
Lyra felt a twinge of guilt.
K’mi chose that exact moment to chime in, What’s he saying?
Lyra could now easily tell the two voices apart. Nothing. I need to concentrate.
“He makes me hunt them,” Lyra said out loud to the Marshall. “For food. They’re disgusting creatures.”
A’ryk barked a sharp laugh before stifling it. Lyra felt him mentally berating himself for losing control. Her eyes widened. This bond, temporary though he claimed, was far stronger than what she had with K’mi.
Kick me, A’ryk said.
“What? No.” Shocked by the request, Lyra realized too late that she’d spoken aloud. Adding quickly, for Rod’s benefit, “I mean, no is what I said. I will not hunt those creatures, I told him.”
Do it. Now. It will throw him off. Keep him thinking I’m an enemy.
“I will do no such thing” Dammit, she said that out loud too. She looked pointedly at the Marshall. “That’s what I said too. Now it will stick.” She executed a sharp nod.
You’re really bad at this, A’ryk sounded amused.
She looked at him, “I’m not doing it.” Starfire, she spoke aloud again. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she said to Rod, “Er, ever again. I’m not hunting them ever again.”
“Whatever he did, you never have to worry about that again,” the Marshall sneered pure hatred at A’ryk. The sneer turned into action, Rod closing in with a swift kick to A’yrk’s gut. The Korthan groaned.
“No!” Lyra grabbed the Marshall’s arm, pulling him back. Rod looked puzzled. “Only I get to hit him,” Lyra improvised. “No one else.”
Do it now, A’ryk said, groaning again.
Preparing herself, Lyra apologized repeatedly, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, as she concentrated on the gentlest kick she could serve while making it look good.
When her foot connected with A’ryk’s torso, she felt the laughter he was trying to hold in. Come on, Lyra, I can take it. Make it more convincing.
Masochist, she said.
“Well, then,” Rod said, Lyra blowing out a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to kick A’rk more convincingly. “I wish you a sound sleep, Miss Merrick. There will be a council meeting tomorrow to decide the day of execution. I imagine that will be a satisfying day for you.”
Lyra’s lungs seized, heart dropping.
Get to the ship and use the code, A’ryk said. It’s the best chance you and the moghas have at getting offworld.
10
When they traveled to the main camp, they put A’ryk in a cage reinforced with energy beams. Like the animal they thought he was. A tall skinny man stood guard.
Lyra seethed, scrubbing her hand down her face. Think, dammit, think.
She despaired as she watched K’mi struggle, the mogha twisting and turning to try and get out of her muzzle. Both moghas were chained to the ice on opposite sides of A’ryk’s cage in their own cages. Overkill, but the colonists clearly weren’t taking chances with Hellhounds of Korth. H’tch sat quietly. At least he was conscious and looking healthy.
Tents were springing up all around as more colonists arrived to the surface of the planet. She was escorted to a mid-sized white tent with a red cross on it. There wasn’t much to the inside, a few monitors and exam tables. Her escort gestured for her to sit.
She had a clear view of A’ryk through a plexi window. Heart aching, she looked at her hands. Not so long ago, she thought he was a savage too. How wrong she was.
“Those burns,” she heard a female voice and looked up. Standing in a lab coat, this was the colonist doctor. “Those burns were healed in a hyperbolic healing chamber. Recently. Were they from the crash?”
Lyra looked at her hands again. The burns were mostly healed. Aside from some tightness in her skin, she hadn’t given them much thought since the first day she woke up on this world.
“Yes,” she found herself answering the doctor. “I was burned pretty badly.”
“I saw the wreckage. You should have died,” the doctor said. “I’m Doctor Shana Watts.” She extended her hand and Lyra grasping it in a tentative shake. “I believe you.”
“What?” Lyra said.
“I believe the Korthan saved you,” Doctor Watts clarified.
Lyra looked out the window. “He did.”
“May I?” the doctor held an examination wand. Lyra nodded and she swiped it around her body, starting and ending at the top of her head. It beeped and the doctor went to a console, plugging it in. Readouts scrolled over a screen. The doctor made a humming noise.
“So, the healing chamber he put you in. Where is it?” she asked.
“Healing chamber?” Lyra repeated. K’mi said he put her in ‘the chamber.’ Could it be the same thing?
“You were burned all over your body. The healing chamber did its job pretty well; just about everything is healed.”
Lyra examined her hands again.
“Your hands suffered the most damage, which is why they didn’t fully heal in the chamber.”
Lyra searched her memory. Other than what K’mi said, nothing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The doctor looked skeptical. “You don’t remember or you don’t want to tell me?”
Lyra’s head snapped up. “I’m getting tired of people thinking I’m lying.”
Doctor Watts raised her hands in apology. “I’m just trying to ascertain what went on here. We got your signal about a habitable world. When we got here we found your crashed ship but couldn’t find you. Everyone thought your body completely burned up. Upon further investigation, we found that wasn’t true. Then a Korthan ship was reported from orbit. The Marshall finds a hellhound, who put up quite a fight, by the way. Then a Korthan shows up. From their perspective, it looks bad.”
K’mi started barking. K’mi, stay cal
m, she thought, hands twisting nervously.
The doctor watched her intensely, something knowing behind those intelligent eyes.
“What exactly do you want me to say?” Lyra said.
The doctor’s eyebrows knitted, lips pursed. She grabbed a stool and sat. “Did you know when humans first arrived to this part of the galaxy, the people of Korth worked with them to find worlds that could be terraformed for human survival? Worlds with no life. Things were great for awhile, but then the humans terraformed the mogha world. It was an act of war for the Korthans. The moghas are very precious to them, maybe even needed for their own survival.”
Lyra’s eyes darted out the window at K’mi before meeting those of the doctor’s. “K’mi told me about the mogha homeworld. Why did we do that?”
Doctor Watts’s eyes widened and Lyra realized her mistake. How could she be so stupid?
“Moghas are a social species, usually only forming bonds with Korthans,” the doctor said. “When you showed up with one, I wondered if it bonded to you. Maybe they are adapting. Or maybe they have always been able to bond with humans. We didn’t exactly give them a chance to find out.”
Lyra decided to go with it. If the mogha was out of the bag, so to speak, then she supposed it really didn’t matter. What mattered was, “Why did we terraform a world with life on it?”
“I want to run some studies,” the doctor yammered. “As far as I know, this is the first human-mogha bond.”
Anger rose in Lyra’s chest, voice rising. “Why did we terraform a world with life on it?”
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “There’s a lot going on here. Let’s start over.” She grasped Lyra’s hand. “I’m Shana. I’m trying to help.”
“Then start helping, Shana,” Lyra said, teeth gritted, pulling her hand away.
Shana sat upright. “I don’t know why we terraformed the mogha world. Stupidity. Greed. Take your pick.”
Lyra shook her head with the truth of that. Humans could be both so easily.
“So the war started and humans were told Korthans are savages with a thirst for killing innocents. It’s a convenient lie, one that motivated humans to arms, instilling in them a purpose to win. To lose would mean a savage, lawless existence under the Korthans.”
“It was a lie,” Lyra whispered. “A’ryk was right.”
“A’ryk? So that’s his name.”
Lyra looked away. “What is the truth?
Shana stood up. “The truth? They are savage, but they don’t kill innocents. Unfortunately, humans believed the lie and, well, you know what happened to Korth.”
Lyra felt bile in her throat. How could A’ryk even stomach her presence in his home?
“Korthans are very intelligent, with technologies beyond anything humans are capable of. At least, before their homeworld was destroyed.” Shana studied her a moment. “But those technologies are still around, just scattered across the galaxy. Kinda like this Korthan’s healing chamber.”
Lyra shifted under the gimlet eye directed her way. So they were back full circle to the healing chamber.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I don’t remember a healing chamber. I barely remember the crash. Then I woke up in an ice cave.” Wait, there was a cylindrical chamber on A’ryk’s ship. Could that have been the healing chamber?
“Well,” Shana’s intense gaze evaporated. “You look very healthy to me. My full medical opinion is that you just need some sleep. I’ll recommend in the council meeting you be allowed full rest before they start grilling you for information on the whereabouts of the Korthan’s ship. Rod is chomping at the bit to find that ship.”
“I don’t know about the ship,” Lyra fibbed.
“Okay. I will pass that on to the council,” the doctor said, walking across the room to the door. “They gave you a badge-key for your own tent, correct?”
Council meeting. The council! “Wait, I need to speak with the council. A’ryk didn’t shoot me down. He saved me. They need to stop the execution.”
“I believe you,” Shana said. “But it’s going to be hard to convince them. They think he is a Korthan weapon. It likely won’t matter if he shot you down or not.”
Lyra couldn’t breathe, throat constricting.
“But I have been trying to educate humans that Korthans are a good people. What happened to them is wrong, and this is not justice,” the doctor said. “I will do what I can to delay the execution. And I will have them free your mogha. It looks too young to have been in the war and the bond it formed with you is important to science.”
Lyra felt a modicum of hope. Perhaps in the delay, she could share her story and win more humans to the ‘Korthans are good people’ movement.
Something beeped and the doctor looked at her wrist. “You know, everyone has a badge-key for their own assigned areas, but council members each have a master badge-key that allows full access to everything. Have a nice rest, Miss Merrick.” Then walked out the door.
That was cryptic, but okay. Lyra pulled the badge they gave her from her pocket. Now what?
Use the code, A’ryk was staring right at her through the plexi window. This camp is a few days old. The beasts will attack, maybe even tonight. Take the moghas and use the code.
But using the code would break this new connection she had with him. She didn’t want that. There was something else about it that disturbed her, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. What about you?
Take the ship, Lyra.
What does this code do? Lyra asked.
It will give you full command of the ship. The ship will be yours.
Unable to shake the nagging feeling that there was more, Lyra looked at her hands, remembering the feel of his against them as she flew the ship, the precipice of knowledge she teetered upon.
What are you? she asked.
I’m Korthan, he answered and she couldn’t suppress her eye roll. Of course, but there was more.
Yes, but there’s something else, Lyra pressed, an image of his tattoo flashing through her mind. Did he just send her that image? It vanished.
I’m a cyborg, but I’m Korthan first, he said, but he was omitting something bigger.
What is it that you’re not telling me? Images of the markings on his ship flew before her mind’s eye, the ones above the Korthan Cyborg Corps symbol he wouldn’t tell her about.
Resignation radiated from A’ryk. I am a cyborg, but it goes the other way.
The other way?
You know how an organic being has to have cybernetic implants to be cyborg? he said.
Lyra shook her head, though she doubted he could see the motion from this distance through a blurry window. No, I didn’t even know cyborgs were real until I met you.
Well, I was cybernetic first.
Cybernetic first? Lyra looked around the tent, thankful she had the place to herself. She wasn’t talking aloud, but she could imagine her face was projecting expression, not to mention movement with her reactions.
I’m a cybernetic being who gained organic implants.
Lyra’s hands were getting more scrutiny today than anytime ever before in her life. As she stared at them, everything came together at once, his pure exhilaration in flight, something else he said: Because you synced with me, the ship.
“Stars, you’re the ship. You said I was the ship, but you really are the ship. I was the ship through you.” Her head snapped up as she realized she spoke out loud. Still no one but her.
I’m a Death Angel, Lyra. Those markings you asked about, they are the sigil of a Death Angel.
By everything that’s holy, that means you’re—
A Defender of Korth, of the very planet itself.
A Planetary Defender, a living ship. Lyra knew of them, but only as legend and even in legend there were only a handful. She had no idea they were Korthan.
We can be anything sentient, A’ryk said. I was chosen to be Korthan. My bi-pedal form was grown in the chamber.
; You put me in this ‘chamber.’
I did. Hesitation, followed by infusing warmth. It can heal anyone I have a potential bond with.
Lyra’s mouth fell open. You knew this whole time, from the moment you met me. And she knew too, without doubt. This man was her mate. A’ryk, why didn’t you tell me?
Use the code, Lyra. All that matters is you and the moghas be safe.
The insistence to use the code was making Lyra more and more uncomfortable. She stood, walking to the window, thoughts a whirlwind. K’mi was dragging her face over the ground, pulling on the muzzle with her extended fingers. K’mi, what does this code do?
K’mi stopped mid drag, antennae shooting straight up. He’s talking to you again? Finally! H’tch has been trying to get him to embrace the bond. Happy day!
I’m not sure how happy it is. He’s asking me to use a code that gives me full command of the ship. What else does it do? Feeling of dread washing over her, Lyra knew she wasn’t going to like the answer
He will be separated from the ship, K’mi said, sadness settling in. But it will still be a fully functional starship.
He’d be separated from his body?
The Korthan is his body.
But the ship is still an extension of him.
Yes, but the code initiates separation of his consciousness.
Stars almighty, that sounded worse than the death sentence.
Weight of immense guilt and hopelessness flowed from A’ryk’s side of the bond. If he knew she was talking to K’mi, he didn’t let on. We lost the war. I did what every good Korthan warrior would do, went into exile. But I’m also a Death Angel; I couldn’t defend my planet.
The pure misery Lyra felt from him was stifling, along with—. Stars, you’re punishing yourself. You believe you deserve this.
Lyra couldn’t imagine what it’d be like for her consciousness to be separated from her body. And if the ache in her heart was anything to go by, separating from this temporary bond they shared was even worse. By the time it was all said and done, he’d be begging for death.
Out of the corner of her eye, something rectangular caught her attention on a work table. It looked like the badge-key she’d been issued, but—. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. No, it wasn’t hers.
