"All right, let's go," I order, leading the way up the stairs.
I don't know what I can do but I'll figure that out when I get there.
Chapter Two
Shidan
"No Shidan, you do not understand," Sverre says.
We're walking the perimeter of the dome that covers and protects the city. The air is too cool for my taste but the humans do not deal well with the heat outside the dome even after taking the life giving epis plant. Their bodies just aren't designed for the climate of Tajss. The dome sparkles in the light of the double red suns and gives the view outside an odd hue. It's pretty. I barely remember the domes that covered our cities before the devastation.
"But why?" I ask.
It's so confusing. She is perfect, beautiful, all I want is to treasure her. Care for her forever but she rejects me at every turn. Sverre sighs.
"This I do not know," he says, holding his hands up before him. "It is their nature. Perhaps it is because of their home world. The human females want to feel equal to their mate."
"This makes no sense!" I exclaim, my voice rising with frustration.
Sverre hisses, a low, dangerous sound. My tail stiffens as instinct kicks in, prepared for him to attack. Sverre turns towards me and his wings shudder as he struggles. Red tints his eyes and the edges of his scales darken. His frown deepens, he's bigger than I am and a much more experienced warrior and my elder. I step back, giving deference but not dropping my guard. The tension makes my scales itch.
Sverre takes a deep breath then exhales in a soft hiss. Shaking his head, he glares at me. "You should know better," he says.
"Apologies, Councilor." I bow my head.
"Accepted. The bijass is still strong, we must be careful in our interactions. Do not press the others, many would not have hesitated so long to destroy you."
They would try, I think, but I smile and nod my agreement.
There's no reason to antagonize him. The bijass is strong and I feel it too. After the devastation, when there was but a handful of our race left and I among the youngest that survived, it started. Some kind of regression to our more primal instincts. We became territorial and unable to trust each other. Our memories faded, becoming dim and distant. Life before the devastation isn't something I remember. It doesn't matter. What I remember of life before was not a life worth living. I had no mate, no one to share my joy with. All that I've come through is the trials necessary to bring me to Amara.
"Still," I say keeping my emotions under control. "It makes little sense. She is not my equal, she is far greater. A treasure to be worshiped."
"I understand Shidan but they are not Zmaj," he shakes his head. "Until you grasp that difference you will not gain understanding."
The confusion whirls in my soul like the black pit left behind by a zemlja, the great sand worm.
"These females are too complex!" I shout out at nothing and no one.
Sverre nods his agreement. "But," he holds up a finger and his tail sways faster. "That makes them a worthy treasure. Would you want a treasure you did not have to earn?"
I think about that as we walk. His words are true and wise. As they should be, he's an Elder and a Councilor. Amara awakens something deep inside me I cannot put into words. Thoughts, feelings, and a longing need. She is perfect, amazing, the lines of her jaw are strong and imperious. The other females wear the fur on their heads longer but not my Amara. She keeps hers cut short, close to her head. There's a practicality to this I'm sure, but it makes her beautiful, letting the lines of her face and neck shine without distraction.
"I'm sure you are right," I say.
"I am," he agrees. "You are young. Did you ever have a mate?"
"No, I did not."
"I see," he says. "So the desires are new to you."
"I knew about them!"
"Ah, yes you did, but after the devastation everything changed. The desires, our instinct to have and protect a mate, are more, stronger, harder to resist."
"Yes," I agree.
This I know well. The drive to be near her, to protect her is all-consuming. Her rebuking does nothing to abate it. No matter how she insults me or acts I must be near her. It's the only thing that calms the need. Even now, being away from her makes my scales itch like something deep inside my brain I can't reach. I can't stop it. Part of my thoughts are on her, always. It's strange, wonderful, and distracting all at the same time.
Something flashes in the distance. I notice but wouldn't have given it a second thought if Sverre did not stop and turn. His second lids shut filtering the light but even so he shields his eyes with his hands. My scales tingle, alert, my senses on overdrive. Danger? My stomach tightens with anger, ready to destroy anything or anyone that would dare to threaten Amara, my lyutik.
"Is it…" I don't finish the thought.
It's unnecessary to say the word. We don't patrol the city perimeter for entertainment. The dome is more than sufficient to keep out the natural threats of the planet but we have to worry about Zzlo. Zzlo are slavers and bogey-men. They were the threat that would get any petulant Zmaj child to go to bed or behave. I haven't seen one since the devastation but Sverre saw them not long ago.
We are not prepared to fight them if they come in force. Listening to Amara talk I can also guess that the Zzlo were the ones who attacked her ship. I guess I should be grateful to them for bringing her but they are undeserving. They will get nothing from me but death.
"No," Sverre says at last and I feel him relax. "How is the work coming to bring the power up to full status?"
"Good," I lie.
Amara is doing the best she can.
"Good, we need to bring the defenses on line," he mutters as we resume our patrol.
"We should find them and attack them."
"And what good would that do?"
"Surprise, if we surprise them then we can drive them off our planet."
"Yes," he nods. "That would work perhaps for this crew of them. What about the next?"
"What next? We'll destroy all that come at us. I won't let anyone threaten her!"
Sverre smiles. I wrestle with an instinct to punch him and destroy that smile. It's deep and strong, I want to beat him down, take him to his knees.
"Shidan, believe me, they are numerous. If you see a ship of them, which I have, it is but an expedition force. We do not have the numbers to take them on."
"We have to protect them," I say. I mean Amara and he knows it.
"You will," he says. "Just as I must Jolie. I will."
It does nothing to satisfy me but I accept his response. My scales burn at the edges as I struggle to contain my rage. There is no target for it I can do anything about. An impending threat to Amara's safety I can do nothing to stop.
"I wish I understood these humans better," I observe. "Why would she not want me to do things for her? She differs from how I see Jolie with you or Calista with Ladon."
"This is true," Sverre says. "Though I do not know why it is."
"Maybe Jolie can explain."
"Perhaps," Sverre says. "It is worth asking."
"I will do that tonight," I say. Having a direction is satisfying at least.
We continue our patrol in silence. The city is huge and we walk its entire perimeter looking for anything that seems out of place or signs of trouble. It's boring work but necessary. When we finish, Sverre and I go to his home. As we enter the dim, cool building my wings rustle and the edges of my scales color light blue. It's too cool in here. The humans like it so I tolerate it but I'd prefer to be outside.
Jolie approaches us as we enter. Her dark hair is shoulder length framing her delicate features. Her eyes vary from the other humans and her skin has a yellow tint to it. She's tiny, too breakable, unlike Amara who has nice strong curves on her hips and incredible mounds under her blouse. The bulge of Jolie's stomach sticks out so far I have to wonder how she walks.
She's upset. It fills the room with an oppressiveness that makes it hard to breathe. Her eyes ar
e puffy, cheeks blotchy, and there are hints of moisture in her eyes. Sverre crosses the room in a flurry of motion, wrapping his arms protectively around her. She wraps her own around him and lays her head on his chest. Jealousy stabs deep. What I would give for Amara to be in my arms.
"What has happened?" Sverre asks.
"Nothing, I'm just… I'm happy you're home," she says.
Sverre leans close and murmurs words I can't hear. Feeling awkward I turn and face the door to give them a moment of privacy. After a time Sverre clears his throat and I turn back.
"Is everything okay?" I ask.
Sverre looks at Jolie who shrugs.
"Calista might have complications with her pregnancy," she says.
"Might?"
Calista is Ladon's treasure. They were the first pairing of humans and Zmaj and while Jolie is also pregnant, Calista is further along. The compatibility of our two races was unexpected so everyone in the community, human and Zmaj alike, follow the news of how she is.
"Yes, there were some difficulties," Jolie says.
"Is she fine?" I ask.
"Yes, we think so," Jolie says. "No one is sure, we don't have the equipment to do much of an exam and no one is an actual baby doctor."
A cold chill races between my wings and down my tail. She has to be fine.
"Is there anything we can do?" I ask.
Jolie shrugs. There's something about her I can't put my finger on, a weight on her shoulders and a sunken look to her eyes. I'm used to her being a happy, vibrant person but tonight she seems distracted and sad. Watching her movements I follow her hands then my eyes land on her belly. Of course! She's worried for her own child.
"No," she replies.
"Perhaps we should continue our work another time," I offer.
"No, please, it gives me something to focus on."
"If you're certain."
She smiles and I see a glimmer of the Jolie I know in her eyes.
"I'm certain," she says, motioning towards the seats. I take one and she sits opposite me. "Now, where did we leave off?"
"You were explaining how some words have more than one meaning," I say.
"Ah, yes," she smiles. Jolie tries to explain this most confusing part of her language. I do my best to follow along but it's difficult. The concept is strange and we speak Common so that I can try to learn.
"How are things with the two of you?" she asks after a while, switching back to the Zmaj language.
"The same," I say. "She pushes me away."
"Are you… sure?"
"Sure?"
"Yeah, that, well I mean… Amara is, well she can be… abrasive."
She's being careful with what she says which I appreciate.
"She is perfect," I reply.
"Sure," Jolie says. "If you like that kind of thing."
Tilting my head to one side I stare. I don't understand her reference.
Jolie shakes her head and shrugs. "She's controlling," she continues. "And dominating and well, in all honesty she can be a bitch."
"A bitch?" I ask confused. "This is not a Zmaj word."
Jolie's cheeks flush a bright red. Her mouth moves but no words come out. She holds her hand up in front of herself and waves them. I sit and wait, feeling lost.
"It's a, not nice word. It means a female dog but it also means a woman who is being… not nice."
"Ah," I say, thinking about this. "So if you were being mean to Sverre, you would be a bitch?"
Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an O. "Um, well, yeah, I guess so."
"Bitch," I say, rolling the word around on my tongue. It has an interesting feel to it when I say it. "So Rosalind is a bitch?"
"Oh lord," Jolie says. "Um, look, that's not a good word and I sure wouldn't use it regarding Rosalind, especially if she can hear you."
"I don't understand," I say, tilting my head again.
"There are words we consider being… not nice. Impolite. You should not use them around others."
"Then why do you have these words?"
"Because…" she trails off.
"You have words that mean things. Someone decided some of these words aren't nice. They aren't nice but they're still there?"
"Pretty much," she says.
"Humans are strange."
"Yeah, I guess we are," she agrees.
"Are there many of these word?"
"Yeah, quite a few. We call them curse words."
"Curse words? So they bring bad luck to the target?"
"Well no, but sort of. I mean they'll start a fight because people get offended by them."
"This makes no sense," I observe.
"Yeah, well, welcome to the Common tongue. So, moving on, are things getting better with her?"
"I do not know," I answer honestly.
"What's going on?"
"What does lizard-boy mean?" I ask.
Her cheeks turn red again and she shakes her head. "Coming from her? Nothing nice."
"I figured. It is fine. I will prove to her I am worthy of her being my treasure."
"Shidan?" Jolie places her hand on mine and looks into my eyes.
"Yes?"
"You know you deserve better, right?"
"I do not understand. What in the world could be better than Amara? She is perfect, the curve of her hips, the fullness of her lips, even the way she approaches life. She is strong, able, and independent. I can imagine no more ideal treasure than her."
Jolie smiles, pats my hand then leans back in the chair resting her hands on her growing stomach.
"If you're sure," she sighs, her eyes looking heavy.
"It is late, I should leave."
Jolie smiles but doesn't argue. I've overstayed my welcome in her home.
"Have a good night," she says.
"You too."
I make my farewells before heading to the small building I am calling home.
I have much to think about. The human language is complex and many of its sounds are hard to produce with my mouth but I'm learning. Once I'm proficient, I will tell Amara how much she means in her own tongue. I will win her. She will be mine, forever.
Chapter Three
Amara
"So go over the situation with me again, from the top," Rosalind says.
I sigh. Rosalind is the de facto leader of the humans. She's beautiful with her long dark hair and her haughty, imperial features. She's in control and you know it the moment she walks in. On the ship she was the Lady General and even I, having been a female pilot, can only imagine what it took for her to earn and keep that position. She's never bitchy even if she comes across as cold. Her white suit creaks as she moves. It's a subtle sound but I recognize it from my flight suits.
We're in an old building that has a lot of floors and is still mostly intact. It's used as a meeting place and the Council gathers around a table, comprised of eight humans plus Sverre, Jolie's mate, and Ladon, Calista's mate who represent the Zmaj.
Zmaj struggle with that part of them which makes them want to kill each other on sight, so for the benefit of everyone we avoid having too many in a room at the same time. The humans are my friends mostly, Rosalind, Jolie, Mei, Calista and a few who represent the other 'interest' group, the Humanist as they call themselves. All of whom are backwards thinking xenophobes.
Rosalind watches patiently, waiting for me to start again. She has that skill which I've never mastered. Patience. Bane of my existence.
Ladon drums the table with his fingers, his wings flutter, and his tail is switching back and forth. There's no hiding his agitation and concern. Ladon is big, even for a Zmaj. He's tan with yellow and blue accents at the edges of his scales.
"The long and short is we don't know," I say. "We need machines. Better yet, we need a doctor, one who's familiar with both Zmaj and Human biology if we're throwing our wishes at the stars."
Rosalind nods.
"What else did you expect?" Gershom pipes in.
Gershom, damn I hate him. A walking
douche bag if ever there was one. Loud, brash, full of himself and a racist dick to top it all off. What blows my mind is he has followers among the survivors. Other humans who think we should isolate ourselves from the Zmaj. Ones who are not happy with the choices some of the girls have made about who to invite to their bed.
I'd say it was all some kind of male chauvinist thing but there are women among his followers too. He's always striving against Rosalind, pushing the boundaries and vying for power. Which is what I think he wants. Power. Power for himself so he can always get his own way. He's a tool, a class A tool.
"What do you mean Gershom?" Rosalind asks like anyone here doesn't know what he meant.
"There has been a rash of bad… choices," he pauses long enough for everyone to read into the blank what he means. "As far as we know we are the only survivors of the world ship, we have a duty and an obligation to our race and our ancestors. We may not have made it to our destination planet, but fate has chosen this one for us."
"Fate?" Rosalind says, derision clear in the tone of her voice. "Seriously Gershom?"
"Mock me if you must Rosalind," he says and a soft murmur comes from his supporters at the table.
I don't know their names, don't care either. They're ridiculous to the point of bordering on insane. I don't like them, want nothing to do with them, and would prefer they not be here.
"I do not 'mock' you Gershom," Rosalind says with an even tone. "I question your viewpoint."
Gershom smiles and shakes his head. "Of course you do," he says with so much condescension my skin crawls.
"Make your point Gershom."
"My point is," he says, "the ones having- difficulty, have earned their due. It in no way should hinder or endanger the rest of the survivors."
"Noted," Rosalind says.
"What kind of machine is it you need?" Ladon asks, placing his elbows on the table and leaning towards me.
"Can someone translate what this monster just said?" Gershom asks.
Ladon turns his head and hisses, his wings spreading as his hands ball into fists. Gershom slides his chair backwards and it falls over, causing him to stumble. His hands flail ineffectively in front of himself as he struggles to maintain his balance. I don't bother trying to hide my amusement.
Dragon's Love: A SciFi Alien Baby Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 3) Page 2
