by Eric Vall
“Of course,” I nodded in understanding. “We’ll wait for you out in the courtyard.”
The son of the chief dipped his head and clicked at Slal’ops. Then the two of them walked down a side hall and disappeared into the shadows.
I turned back to my crew to find that they had kept walking while I’d stopped to speak with Cy’lass and had already reached the entrance.
“Hey, wait up,” I called. Neka seemed to pause, but then the door slid open and Akela marched through it, towing the cat-girl in her wake. I sighed and jogged to catch up with them.
Out in the courtyard, the crowds had dispersed, most likely after they witnessed the displeasure of their chief. There were a few stragglers, and the hunting party seemed still to be unloading the Opalks carcass, but they kept to the perimeter and hissed and chittered amongst themselves.
As I walked out the front door, I glanced around for my assistant and mechanic. About twenty meters to my left Akela stood with her back to me and her arms crossed. Neka was another ten meters passed her. The cat-girl balanced on the edge of one of the culverts that ran through the courtyard and stared down into the gurgling water. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and her tail dragged in the dirt. If she was choosing to be near water rather than me, I knew I must have really hurt her.
My heart clenched at the sight, and I began to walk toward my forlorn assistant. Akela, however, spotted me first, and I couldn’t just ignore the scowl that twisted the mechanic’s pretty face or the way she tilted up her chin and deliberately refused to look at me. I altered my course and made my way over to the silver-haired woman.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” the mechanic bit out once I was within hearing distance. I tried to smile at her, but she wouldn’t even face me.
“Well, if Chief U’eh and these trials have their way, you might not have to after tomorrow,” I attempted to joke, but judging by Akela’s razor-sharp gaze, I realized dark humor might not be the best way to reach her.
“You think this is funny?” the mechanic hissed with narrowed eyes.
“Not in the least,” I said honestly as I raised my hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood. This situation is not funny at all, but it is necessary.”
“Says who?” Akela challenged as she faced me fully. Her feet were squared and shoulder width apart, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. I half wondered if she was going to punch me.
“Chief U’eh. Did you not hear what he said?” I asked rhetorically. “If I hadn’t agreed to his terms, we’d be marching back to the ship right now, empty-handed and out a shit ton of money.”
“So it’s all about the money for you?” Akela sneered. I realized she was trying to get a rise out of me, so I took a deep, calming breath and looked her dead in the eyes.
“You know it’s not,” I said to her sincerely. The mechanic held my gaze for only a moment before she looked away again with an irate click of her tongue.
“Fucking damn it,” Akela muttered under her breath. She rubbed vigorously at the shorn part of her scalp. We were silent for a solid minute, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I reached out and brushed the back of the mechanic’s hand, careful not to touch the still pink skin of her arms. The silver-haired woman reluctantly looked back at me.
“Listen,” I started. “Can we please just talk about this? I don’t like having the two of you pissed at me and I… I’m going to need your support to make it through these trials, alright?”
I hated asking for help. On Proto, it had been a sign of weakness. I had quickly learned that if I was going to survive, I could only rely on myself and my own strengths.
That was no longer true. I was part of a crew. It wasn’t just me anymore.
Akela exhaled sharply and dragged a hand down her face. Her rigid posture collapsed like a deflating balloon.
“I’m not pissed at you, CT,” she sighed. When she saw my raised eyebrows, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m a little pissed at you.” I tilted my head at her, and she finally laughed. Even if it was small, dry, and barely more than an expulsion of air, the sound made my heart swell.
“Alright, alright,” she amended and shook her head. “So I’m mad. But it’s not… it’s not exactly what you think.”
The mechanic inhaled and exhaled deeply as she seemed to collect her thoughts. “Yes, I’m a little miffed that you agreed to these trials because I don’t necessarily want to die or get stranded here if you die. But… I know why you did what you did, why you agreed to this. Hell, I’m not sure I would have chosen any differently if I was in your position. We both know the havoc Terra-Nebula and the other Corporations can wreak.”
Akela paused and pursed her lips, and as she turned her head to look out over the courtyard again, I noticed there was a faint flush to her cheeks. When she didn’t continue, I leaned into her field of vision.
“What is it?” I asked. “You can tell me. I promise I have thicker skin than I let on.”
Finally, the mechanic turned back to me, and her beautiful face was marred with a sharp frown, her brows furrowed over two anxious, amethyst eyes.
“I’m worried,” Akela grudgingly confessed. It seemed like she had to fight to say those words. Her throat worked and bobbed as she swallowed nervously. “I’m worried and upset at the idea of something happening to you, and I’m weirded out by how much I’m worried and upset because we only just met a few fucking weeks ago and it’s just… kind of a whole mess in here.” She gestured vaguely to her chest and her head. Her cheeks were now dark splotches of color, and I felt the heat rise in my face in return.
“I’m… sorry?” I hedged uncertainly. I didn’t know what the correct response to all that was, but being apologetic couldn’t hurt. I also had to berate myself for my heart for skipping a beat at the mechanic’s words. Now was not the time for that.
Akela snorted and then brought her eyes back to mine. Some color had faded from her face and she looked self-assured again. “Good. You should be. And after all this bullshit with the trials is over, I’m going to make you make it up to me. And Neka!” At the mention of my assistant, we both glanced in the cat-girl’s direction. She hadn’t moved in the slightest.
I sighed at the dejected picture Neka painted.
Akela echoed my sigh, but reached out and laid her hand on my elbow. Her violet eyes were soft. “Look we just need… time, alright? We both do. I need time to think things through or get over myself or whatever. And Neka… she may trust you implicitly, CT, but that also means she’s twice as worried. You’re the only person she’s had for a very long time. Hell, for all her life if you think about it. So, be patient, and I’ll try to talk to her a little later on, too, okay?”
At the mechanic’s words, something unraveled in my chest, and I could suddenly breathe easier. I gave her a grateful smile which immediately faded when Akela lashed out and punched me in the shoulder. She didn’t use her full strength, so the blow startled more than it hurt, but still.
“Ow!” I cried out and rubbed at the sore area of skin. I stared at the silver-haired woman in shock. “What was that for? I thought you said you weren’t mad at me.”
“Eh,” Akela shrugged and tried to turn her face away, but she wasn’t quick enough. I still caught the edge of the smile that tugged at her mouth. “I’m still working through some things.”
I tried to look offended, but I could barely keep from smiling. At least the mechanic was joking with me again. I could take her punching or yelling at me. I couldn’t take her cold shoulder. Or Neka’s. I glanced at my assistant’s back again and vowed to make things right before the feast tonight.
Cy’lass and Slal’ops walked out of the tower a few minutes later. “Shall we begin the tour?” the prince asked as he drew up to us. Slal’ops stayed a step behind the son of the chief and merely inclined his head to us in greeting. The two Almort suddenly seemed stiffer, more formal than they had before we spoke to U’eh, but I couldn’t get a
deeper read off them yet.
Somehow, Neka noticed Cy’lass and Slal’ops had rejoined us because a moment later, she was suddenly there, just a few meters away.
“I think we’re ready,” I responded to Cy’lass, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the cat-girl as I willed her to look at me. Finally, her yellow eyes lifted to mine, soft and sad, and I smiled with all the affection and care I had for her in my heart as I asked, “Neka? Are you ready to see Ka’le?”
For a second, I feared my assistant would refuse to answer me or just look away and silently nod. Instead, after only a split moment of hesitation, Neka smiled so wide and full her eyes crinkled shut. It was obviously a fake smile, but the cat-girl was doing her best to put up a brave front.
“Yeah!” Neka meowed, overly bright. She looked at all of us, but I still noticed how she glanced at me the least. “Where to first?”
“We thought the marketplace would be a good start,” Cy’lass informed us. “It is the best representation of the Almort and what our home has to offer.”
“Sounds great to me,” I said as I finally tore my gaze away from Neka. I couldn’t deny that I was eager to see more of Proxima V after our drive through its countryside.
Slal’ops stepped forward then. “And since the machine-healer expressed interest earlier,” he said, “we will also take you to the refinery. If that is still agreeable.”
Before I could even open my mouth, Akela was enthusiastically nodding her head. “Yes. Yup. We definitely agree to that.”
Slal’ops chittered a small laugh and dipped his head in assent.
“Then let us go,” Cy’lass said and turned toward the western part of the city. His hissed something quietly under his breath as he began to walk away, so quietly the translator could barely pick it up, but after a moment it told me the last part of his sentence: “And be far away from here.”
Huh. It seemed Cy’lass and his father didn’t exactly see eye to eye. I filed that information away for later and followed the Almort prince as he led us into his city.
The two Almort walked a few meters ahead as they led us through the streets of Ka’le, and as we continued, I noted that they were markedly less enthusiastic than when we rode across the plains. Still, they were nothing if not hospitable, and Slal’ops still answered every one of Akela’s questions.
“So are all of your buildings made of X’ebril?” the mechanic asked and then, before Slal’ops could even answer, added, “No, it has to be a composite, right? Mixed with stone? How malleable is X’ebril anyway? You seem to use it in everything, but it’s a metallic ore. Is it not very dense?”
Even if the Almort did seem preoccupied with something, they couldn’t help but smile at my mechanic’s enthusiasm.
“Yes, most of our structures are made from a mixture of X’ebril and different materials,” Slal’ops explained. “You are also correct in guessing that it isn’t particularly dense, that’s why it’s so malleable and versatile.”
Akela nodded along, but I could tell she was barely listening, her mind already churning through a dozen more questions.
As the mechanic opened her mouth to release the torrent building behind her teeth, Neka actually beat her to it. I had been watching my assistant out of the corner of my eye, and even though she had been quiet so far, she was still taking everything in with her large, curious yellow eyes.
“What about the waterways?” the cat-girl questioned. She gestured to the small culverts that ran along the side of the roads and gurgled with dark blue liquid. As we walked, she had made sure to stay on the inside edge of our group, furthest away from the shallow slope that led down to the water. Neka, unsurprisingly, wasn’t a big fan of water. Fish, she loved. Water, not so much.
Cy’lass clicked and pointed down the road where the culvert ran straight and true and the buildings seemed to be built around it. “They flow with fresh water and fish diverted from the rivers in the plains,” the prince explained. “Some is funneled to residential pods and other buildings that need it. Most of it, however, is just cycled through the city before it returns once more to the rivers and the sea beyond.”
“What about pollution?” Akela immediately asked.
The Almort chittered at her in confusion, unfamiliar with the word.
The mechanic frowned. “You know trash, debris, refuse?” she went on. “Aren’t you afraid that whatever people throw in there will make it back into the river and harm the ecosystem?”
Cy’lass tilted his head, perplexed, but something almost like horror dawned on Slal’ops’ face.
“We do not throw our garbage in the water,” he rasped as he slowed his walk to a stop, his flat blue eyes wide. “Do your people commit such an atrocity?”
Akela snorted. “That’s the whole reason our people took to the stars in the first place. Our ancestors did it so much, our home world Earth basically just became a huge pile of garbage. There was no more land to use, the water began to dry up, our atmosphere disappeared… it was a whole thing,” the mechanic finished with a wave of her hand.
The two Almort looked so shocked that I felt the need to step forward and add, “Which is another reason why we want to help protect your planet. To help make sure you don’t have to suffer through the same struggles.”
I shot a look at Akela. The mechanic cringed and mouthed “Sorry.”
Cy’lass nodded, but still looked perturbed. Slal’ops looked a little pale around his gills.
Thankfully, Akela had a wealth of questions and subjects she was just bursting to change to.
“So,” the mechanic said a little too brightly as we started walking again, “are we nearing this marketplace? Will they have food there? I’m getting a little hungry.”
Slal’ops clicked and wove his head from side to side. “We are nearly there. And yes, machine-healer, there will be food,” the Almort chittered with a small smile. “The market here in Ka’le is the largest one our people have. Almort come from every corner of the land and from every tribe to trade and sell their goods here, be they crops, meat, or other valuables.”
I perked up at that piece of information. Societal structures were something not included in our meager dossier. “You have different tribes?” I asked. “How many? Do they live in different cities?”
“Yes, there are five tribes,” Cy’lass responded and held up one of his hands with the smallest finger tucked down.
I blinked as I realized he had six fingers.
“We are of the Plains,” the prince continued and tucked another finger into his fist. “Then there are those of the Marshlands, the Hills, the Desert, and finally the Mountains. Each tribe has its center, but there is no city like Ka’le.” His voice was more than a little proud.
I cataloged that information away for later. In the distance, I could suddenly hear a dull clamor. I glanced at the Almort but they seemed unperturbed, so I asked the next question on my mind.
“And your father,” I directed at Cy’lass. “He rules over all these tribes?”
The prince clicked and chittered in what I thought to be irritation. His dark eyes swept away from me and down the road, toward the noise that we were nearing.
“Each tribe has its own chieftain who rule their land in their own right,” the Almort prince hissed, “but my father is chief of the most powerful tribe, as his father, and his father before him have been. So U’eh is above the others in this way, but he only rules with the consent of the other chieftains. He thinks himself too powerful now.”
Slal’ops suddenly clicked sharply at the other Almort, and Cy’lass subsided into silence once more. There was a sharp glint to his eye, however, and I deduced that Cy’lass and his father had butted heads more than a few times before.
The muted commotion I had noticed a few minutes ago had steadily grown in decibel level as we continued down the road. By the time we reached where the street ended and branched to the left or right, it had become a barely restrained roar. It was a strange cacophony. It sounded like
waves crashing along the beach combined with a construction site all set to different strains of music. Akela, Neka, and I shared a look of concern, but Cy’lass had strode out a few meters and turned to face us in the middle of the street. The sharp glint and shadow were gone from his eye, and the son of the chief flashed us a sharp-toothed grin.
“Welcome,” the prince said grandly as he swept his arm out to the left, “to the marketplace of Ce’ka.”
Tentatively, we rounded the corner, and I didn’t fail to notice how Neka skipped to my side without thinking and tucked herself behind my shoulder as we got our first look at the market.
“Holy shit,” Akela whispered at my side. If it wasn’t for my earpiece, I wouldn’t have heard the mechanic. The noise had been loud on our approach, but it was nearly deafening as we entered the market proper.
“Yeah, ditto,” was all I could manage as the three of us stood there and gaped at the absolute beehive of activity before us.
The open-air marketplace was situated in the western half of the city, closest to their largest river. It was a giant plaza that took up several city blocks, and everywhere we looked were stalls and booths of Almort hawking their wares.
The sound that I had mistaken for waves on the beach turned out actually to be the Almort themselves as they hissed and called and clicked to each other. I wasn’t far off with the construction noises as I noticed a few booths not far from where we stood seemed to be metal workers. I couldn’t see what they were making from this distance, but a handful of Almort hammered away at something, the ring of their tools on metal like a singing bell.
As for the music, it was actually music. Multiple Almort stood scattered around and played different instruments of odd colors and assembly but recognizable categories: percussion, wind, and string.
It was absolute bedlam.
And breathtakingly beautiful.
I was suddenly pulled out of my reverie when someone bumped into me from behind. I blinked and realized that we had come to a standstill in the middle of the road with our jaws on the floor and people trying to get passed us. I threw an apologetic smile over my shoulder and then placed my hands in the small of Neka and Akela’s backs to nudge them into walking again. The two women shuffled forward blindly and stared around as they tried to take everything in.
