by Poppy Rhys
Swimming wasn’t my issue—I could swim—it was the water. It didn’t matter that the current was nearly nonexistent.
My gaze traveled up and down the canal. I was at a bend, unable to see where it began or ended, and I couldn’t detect any movement. No wildlife. Not even a breeze to ruffle the leaves of the overhanging branches.
What made the splashing sound?
It was eerily quiet, the only noise the muted trickling of the canal that I could barely hear.
Lush, multicolored foliage crowded the bank in multiple spots and my eyes detected beaten-down grass near parts that had less brush. I assumed those were well used game trails.
With dawn casting a shadowed haze through breaks in the canopy above, I imagined creatures would be making their way to the local watering hole soon enough.
The urgency to get water while I still could—without endangering myself further—spurred me a foot forward before I paused once again.
I was closer now and could see the water better. It was a dark blue but with a beautiful translucency water lovers would probably kill to swim in.
That wasn’t me.
Did anything natural look this pristine back on Earth any longer?
My fingers twitched in the grass as I moved forward another foot. It wasn’t shallow, but I could see the bottom. Nothing swam there.
My forehead felt tight when my brow wrinkled. There were no fish?
Again, I inched forward until I was within reaching distance of the water. If I wasn’t semi-dehydrated, I would’ve been sweating harder at that point, being so close to a body of water.
My tongue rubbed the roof of my mouth and I could just imagine how cool and refreshing such clean water would be.
Lying flat on my front, I dipped my fingers in, nearly whimpering with relief. Quickly, I dipped my other hand in, scrubbing to wash away the dirt before I scooped water and greedily sucked it down.
I couldn’t remember water ever tasting so good.
Pacing myself, I took a minute to stop gorging and washed my face. Little flakes of dark, dried blood stuck to my fingers as I gently worked at my skin.
I felt grimy from head to toe, even with my smart fiber prison suit, having run for as long as I did, but I’d suffer through it. There was no way on Earth—or whatever this planet was—that I was going to jump in and wash.
Maybe I could find a smaller part of the channel where the water ran more like a narrow, shallow stream. I’d bathe in that.
It was a rickety plan. If I stayed close to the water, I’d never run out of a drinkable source, but I’d run the risk of encountering possible predators. Monsters had to drink too.
It was safe to assume most things needed water to survive, even on an alien planet.
I paused mid sip as movement from the corner of my right eye drew my attention.
I waited. Nothing moved. Maybe it was just my imagination.
I really need to find food.
Staying frozen a couple seconds more, I watched but nothing happened.
I went back to sipping.
The sun hung higher now, and it dappled the canal through breaks in the canopy. But it was darkly shaded and there were parts of the canal my eyes couldn’t pierce.
I pushed myself back onto my knees, shaking my hands to fling the excess water away.
Splash.
A hand shot out of the water followed by a face. A face that didn’t look quite human. A bubble of air lodged in my esophagus as I scurried backward, but it was too late.
The large blue hand that camouflaged against the water gripped my arm. My struggle was muted against their hold and I couldn’t tell if it was my exhausted, calorie-craving body or their strength.
To my horror, it dragged me closer to the water.
I screamed. Screamed like I was being tortured. My drenched throat clenched around my horrifying-to-my-ears screeching.
Into the water I went.
SIX
THIS WAS MY HELL.
This was the paralyzing fear that lingered in the back of my brain every time I stood near a body of water.
I couldn’t breathe!
My vision blurred as water encased every inch of me, creating a wavy, somewhat magnified view of the canal I was being dragged through.
“Let me go!” I screeched, the sound garbled as precious air bubbles left my mouth and rushed to the surface I so desperately clawed for with outstretched arms.
Stupid move! Stupid, stupid move!
My lungs cried, burning for the air I’d just released. An arm clutched around my middle beneath my breasts, hugging me tight to a hard body, but it was impossible to concentrate on seeing.
Whoever held me blended in seamlessly with the surrounding water, which darkened as they dragged me deeper.
I wanted to fight, defend myself, and give them an uppercut to the nose that would decimate their cartilage, but I couldn’t.
My energy waned with every second I didn’t have air to breathe. With no proper nutrition and having run for who knew how long, I was losing steam in record time.
The canal opened into deeper water and my eyes burned like the type of water had changed. I blinked repeatedly, tensing up further as a cluster of eel-like fish rushed by creating a whirl of water that brushed my skin.
I’m going to die.
I was going to die held down by something that wasn’t human, in alien waters, surrounded by fish that were twice as long as my body.
My vision spotted, black orbs dotting my peripherals as a far-off light grew closer. Ahead it looked like a trench with carved dwellings, the largest jutting from the sandy, swaying, rainbow-seaweed-riddled ground. A transparent dome encased it, reminding me of a mermaid snow globe.
I gasped.
It couldn’t be helped. I needed air even though I knew there was none to be had.
The salty water rushed my mouth, flooding my lungs with a burn that felt like pure agony. An immediate cough had me rejecting the fluid. It whirled around my face and as soon as I inhaled, it came rushing right back.
The heavy weight filled me, and the light of the city faded.
DASON
Creator!
Or was she?
I assumed it was She, the Divine Being who made me into what I am. My brethren and I were reborn in her image, though She was superior in all ways.
I sank further into the water until my eyes were just above the surface, and slowly moved along underneath the large-leafed shore plants that hung over the channel. My dark skin camouflaged me so I could watch from afar.
It had been so long since I had seen her in all her beautiful glory reigning over the city I called home: Ghi. In her absence, it had become destitute without her guidance, but my brethren recently began restoring it to its former glory in hopes one day our Creator would return.
Everyone thought the Creators abandoned us.
I, too, was losing hope.
No longer! She, Ghishwy, had returned!
My breathing steady, the oxygen-rich water filling my lungs, I quietly observed.
She breathed heavily, her chest heaving, and her hands planted along the bank where she craned her neck forward. She continued to toss glances over her shoulder, as if she were expecting someone or something.
I got closer.
Watching from under the broad-leafed ushi shrub, my curiosity peaked.
Where were her glorious golden horns?
My feet dug into the cool sand to anchor me.
What happened to her white hair? Her rainbow flecked scales? Her dusky skin the alluring shade of blue gemstones?
Maybe she had shed these things for some reason? How was I to know the ways of the Creators?
She drew nearer. At first, I thought her skin was an alarming shade of poison orange, like the jihn fish before it spits its noxious ink, but I realized it was a covering. It lay against her body like a shell or second skin.
Her breathing grew shaky the closer she inched toward the canal.
My vision narrowed suspiciously. Her delicate fingers tested the water.
Was she afraid?
That couldn’t be. Ghishwy loved the water so much she had Ghi built underneath it. She created us with beloved water in mind. She’d even formed a small horde of Electric Valos due to her love of the stormy skies.
Every creature swimming in its depths—big, small, bloodthirsty, and non—adored Ghishwy just as she loved them.
This wasn’t Ghishwy.
Even as my hope plummeted, my curiosity soared. This creature I had never seen before.
I wanted her.
She scrubbed her skin, dark flakes washing away in the canal. They swept downstream toward me and I could taste a distinctive tang.
It was familiar. She bled like some creatures that frequented the banks of this canal.
I moved closer, stepping on a thorny weed in my carelessness.
She paused, looking right at me.
When she went back to drinking, as if she hadn’t seen me at all, I realized she was either sightless like the shrieking ak’rena or had extremely dulled senses.
Ghishwy would’ve known I was here before she laid her beautiful gaze upon me.
I still wanted her. This creature whose pungent, slightly unpleasant scent I could detect so fiercely.
Yes, I would take her.
Closer I moved until I was staring at her profile from the side, and she continued to act as if I were invisible.
I didn’t like being ignored.
Striking with the swiftness of the jihn, I clasped her hot skin as she shrieked with a pitch that reminded me of a particularly annoying species of crustaceans.
Her struggles were sad at best, but when I took her beneath the surface, she was barely responsive aside from more shrieking and clawing at the water. Was she speaking?
On I swam, farther and farther toward Ghi. She calmed considerably as if the water subdued her the closer we got. By the time I was above the colorful waving grasses outside the city, she was completely limp.
I paused, turning her body in my arms so we were face to face. Was she asleep?
Shaking her gently, her strangely covered body swayed like the grasses.
Urgency struck me. What if she couldn’t draw the oxygen from the water as I could?
Tucking her to my side, I propelled the current forward at a speed any Ghian would be envious of.
Through the tunnel I went, the sensors detecting my presence once I was further in. The water quickly drained, and I expelled the liquid in my lungs to breathe dry air.
I carried the creature in my arms, giving her a shake, believing she would reanimate out of water.
“What do you have?”
I spun around to see Lonan and Zaid striding toward me.
A groan trapped inside my chest. They would ruin my fun and tell me to put the creature back where I found it, most likely.
“Nothing.”
Zaid peered down into my arms, lifting the dark hair that sprouted from her crown and curtained her face.
He jumped back.
“Creator!”
“No!” I denied, laying her upon the sandy ground. “It is not Ghishwy.”
Lonan sank to his haunches, rubbing the short black double-spikes that curved backward on either side of his jaw.
“He’s right. This isn’t the Creator.”
“Is it alive?” Zaid questioned dubiously, his usual unimpressed demeanor returning now that he didn’t think I’d grabbed Ghishwy and doomed us all to steep repercussions.
“She,” I corrected. “I think it’s a she.”
Lonan jabbed her with a finger.
“Stop that.” I smacked his hand away. “She was alive at the canal.”
“Then why isn’t she moving?”
“I don’t think she can use the oxygen underwater.”
Zaid leaned in closer, pressing a thumb to her mouth as he peered past her lips and flat teeth. He moved his hand over her chest and I knew what he was doing.
Our kind could manipulate water. Anywhere, in anything, all around us and inside objects or other live beings.
He was pushing the water from her lungs.
It bubbled up, spilling from the corners of her lips that her slackened jaw kept parted until nothing was left. Still, she did not reanimate.
“Is it dead?”
“She!” I corrected Lonan this time.
“I think she’s dead,” Zaid harrumphed. “Why did you bring her here?”
I knew he’d ask that question.
Honestly, I realized I had a problem. I liked to take things. Well, borrow. I liked to borrow.
I borrow a lot.
When I saw something I wanted, nothing else mattered. No amount of debating would convince me otherwise. I usually gave stuff back. It may take me a few cycles, but I’d tire of it eventually.
What was the big deal?
“What did we talk about, Dason?” Lonan addressed me with the look I knew was meant to be a chastising one. I hated being the youngest. They were always telling me what to do.
They both stared at me.
“That I can’t take whatever I want.”
“And what did you do?” Lonan pointedly stared at the creature lying limp between us.
Silence stretched on.
“But I wanted her,” I simply stated.
“That matters little.”
They never made any sense. It wasn’t like I broke any agreements. She wasn’t a valo; I knew that much. It wouldn’t start a war with any other race.
Kahn crouched down beside me, joining the conversation late and curiously peering at the creature I’d borrowed from the surface. “Thought you weren’t supposed to take things anymore?”
I sighed.
They would never understand.
Kahn —the only other Electric Valo left in existence besides Lonan— pressed his palm to her chest before I could stop him.
He shocked her.
The creature’s spine arched, her chest heaving upward as if to follow Kahn’s hand, and a gasp so loud it ended in a wheeze filled the space.
She coughed and hacked, and none of us saw it coming when she moved with the stealth of a striking serpent and punched Zaid right between the eyes.
SEVEN
I WAS ALIVE!
I sucked in another lungful of dry air, my chest feeling as if it’d been lit on fire.
It all rushed back to me. Being dragged through the water by something that wasn’t human.
Being unable to breathe.
It was at that moment I realized I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by four...
Well, I didn’t know what they were.
The biggest one crouched closest to me, to my left. I could see him through the curtain of hair hanging over my face. They were silent, but I could feel their stares.
I didn’t know what they had in store for me and I didn’t care to find out.
Harnessing my training and mustering what strength I could, I shot upward, pulling back my right fist and slamming it between the eyes of the biggest monster there.
Pain raced through my wrist and my jaw fell open with a shocked wheeze.
“Son of a motherfucking biscuit!” I shouted and clenched my wrist as I fell backward to the ground. It was like punching a brick wall covered in a thin layer of good skin.
All four jumped back.
My knuckles were immediately beginning to turn a vibrant red. I gingerly extended my fingers testing for injuries. I could move them just fine, but they were sore as hell. Nothing was broken as far as I could feel.
Goddamn, what was the guy made of?
I looked up at him and while I wasn’t exactly knowledgeable in the expressions of non-human people, he looked pretty fucking confused to me.
“That makes two of us, buddy,” I mumbled aloud before my common sense kicked in.
They glanced at one another before staring down at me again.
I quickly got to my feet. I wasn’t sure I
could use my right fist but that didn’t stop me from throwing up my hands to prepare for a fight.
They didn’t move.
The big one rubbed his nose and brushed his bald head like he was annoyed. His thick fingers—on a large hand that could crush my skull—were tipped with trimmed nails darker than his ashen, blue-gray skin.
Skin I’d momentarily touched. Soft skin.
I inwardly groaned.
When he blinked his large, black, pupil-less eyes, they reminded me of a shark on the hunt. They wanted to suck me in, hold me hypnotized while they struck me with the fear of a nearby predator.
A huge predator. So very huge. The biggest of them all, with shoulders that were twice the width of me, and a long, rippled torso that any woman on Earth would want to slip ‘n slide all over.
Images of pouring oil on his chest and rubbing him down smacked my third eye like a fucking broom, causing me to flinch as if I’d been physically attacked.
Something’s wrong with me. Something is wrong with me!
Of course I had to go and punch the biggest one in the face. Not that it seemed to matter for him. It didn’t faze him at all.
My poor wrist. I unclenched my fingers and quickly shook it out, trying not to wince.
“What do you want?” I blurted.
The one with the familiar face, the one who pulled me from the canal, said something then. He was smiling—beaming, really—as he approached me like we were old friends. He abruptly stopped short when I stood my ground and repositioned my fists.
I’d spring another punch—no matter if he was just as solid as the Brick House!—if he wanted to get up in my face.
“Don’t test me,” I gritted between clenched teeth. I wouldn’t be manhandled—alien-handled, whatever.
A thick, dark blue mohawk, the color matching Brick House’s nails, beelined down Kidnapper’s head. It was glossy and soft looking, the front curling over his forehead in the most playful manner.
Though the least intimidating, he was just as tall as the others, standing a good head and a half on me. A leanly muscled body that any swimmer would be proud of was unabashedly on display, his bottom half covered in skin-tight black pants that ended just below his knee.
