Gamma Rift

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Gamma Rift Page 10

by Kalli Lanford


  My mind was flooded with the image of America, but this time, she was on the examination table in my father’s lab, her eyes holding the same terror I saw in the eyes of the Trispian. I couldn’t let that happen to her or to any of the other creatures my father’s team stole from their home planets.

  I had to see her as soon as possible, force my way into her cell if I had to, as long as my father wouldn’t find out.

  “I want you to come with me on my tour of the lab. Your support in this would really mean a lot.”

  “I’ll come with you, Garran.” She dropped her head and looked up at me. “But I still think your dad needs a good talking to by me. I’m not afraid of him.”

  I wasn’t directly afraid of him, either. I was afraid of what he could do to me with his power, and she should have been, too.

  As expected, Remlin Timuary kept his post just inside the main entrance to the lab. He nodded when he saw Lestra and me approach and went as far as engaging the door before we were close enough to trigger it open ourselves. Obviously my father had told him to expect us.

  “Good day, my royal.” Remlin smiled and led us into the reception area. One of the scientists on my father’s research team passed us in the corridor. He stopped to give me a bow but didn’t say anything. I wondered whether or not he just left cellblock fifteen, whether or not he was the one responsible for drawing America’s blood and extracting bone marrow from her hip. The thought burned under my shell.

  Slaine stood at the first cellblock, his feet set apart on the stone floor, his hands behind his back. “My royal, it is an honor.”

  “Thank you, Slaine. Oh, and congratulations on your new assignment. You are the first Timuary to become lead guard. My father chose wisely.”

  “Thank you, my royal.”

  “So, tell me. Where will our tour begin and end?”

  “It will begin here, at cellblock one and end at cellblock three, cell fourteen.”

  “Fourteen is next to the research lab?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And what about fifteen? I do believe there is another cellblock after fourteen?”

  “Yes, my royal, but cell fifteen is currently under renovation. The king specifically—”

  “I’d like to see those renovations.”

  “I am sorry, my royal, but—”

  “Slaine, do not challenge my authority. If I want to see cell fifteen, I will see cell fifteen. It does not take my father’s approval. You are a Timuary. I am a royal. It is your job to do as I say.”

  My stomach churned. I heard a click and knew Lestra’s shells were tightening with anticipation as were mine. I hated using my royal influence against this humble Enestian, but it had to be done. I had to see the human.

  “I’ll need to contact the king.”

  “You will do no such thing, Slaine. Listen to me.” I grabbed his arm. He didn’t flinch. We were almost of the same height and build, but his head was slightly larger than mine, and the shell plates above his eyes were thick and protruded slightly. “I cannot tell you how or why, but I know about the human in cell fifteen, and I want to see her. I want to enter her cell.”

  He shot his gaze to the floor.

  “Have you seen her?” His eyes shifted back to mine. “Answer me,” I demanded.

  “Yes. I have seen it one time. It was cold. I gave it a blanket from the guard’s quarters.”

  He’d seen her, something I’d longed to do for days. Had he touched her, too? Slaine had been in her cell, given her something I couldn’t—comfort—and maybe even put his palm on her shoulder. Or held her hand. Something I should be doing. He had definitely seen her naked. The plates across my chest overlapped hard with my next breath, and my jaw locked uncomfortably.

  Sure, I was glad for what he did to keep America warm, but I was jealous…yes, jealous…that he had helped her, while I, a prince, was powerless.

  America had been on my mind continually since I’d last been with her. But I had been absent from my activities far too often and didn’t want anyone to become suspicious, especially Murelle. So I stayed away, even though it killed me. I was taking a risk each time I saw her, but as I came to know her better, I found myself willing to take a chance just to hear her voice. Make her laugh. America Novoa’s well-being was becoming more important to me with each passing day.

  I thought of the hours she spent alone, huddled, afraid, lonely, and I wanted to burst through that wall to see her. Touch her.

  Kiss her.

  Show her I was more than a helpless prince with no authority.

  “Slaine!” snapped Lestra, dragging me from my thoughts. “What were you thinking? You could lose your position.”

  “I know, but this specimen is different from the others. It is Enestian in many ways.”

  I seized on Slaine’s compassion. “Yes, she is. That’s why I need to see her. I speak her language. You are to take Lestra and me immediately to her cell, and you are to tell no one.”

  The plates between Slaine’s eyes overlapped. “Opening the specimen’s cell requires a shell scan. Each scan is logged into the specimen’s files. The king will find out, and I will be reprimanded and demoted. Prince Garran, please!” he said and took a step toward me. “I cannot disgrace my family.”

  “You opened it when you gave her a blanket. How is this any different?”

  Lestra gave her brother a cold glare, her shell lids becoming mere slits, and Slaine’s shoulders stiffened as if he was heeding some kind of warning. But what kind of warning? Was it something that went beyond Slaine entering her cell in the first place?

  “I, I overrode the shell scan. I have the code.”

  “Then use it again.”

  “Your royal, I took an oath.”

  “And as a royal, I am ordering you to—”

  “Garran, please, don’t put this kind of pressure on my brother. I have the code. It’s actually the same one we used to enter the lab before you were given permission to do so. You can override the scan yourself,” said Lestra.

  The code we had did more than open medical records? She lied to me. Kept me from America.

  “Slaine.” Lestra stepped toward her brother and spoke, breaking the rule for Timuarys not to speak to one another while a royal is present.

  “Lestra, hold your tongue!” Slaine’s chest puffed with the scrape of shell.

  “Do not rebuke her, Slaine Timuary. She has my permission to speak to you. Your sister is on the path to becoming my royal adjutant. Anything she says or does is under my guidance and with my consent.”

  Slaine snapped his shoulders back.

  “I’m sorry, Brother,” continued Lestra, “but we are both under Garran’s direct orders, and though the king’s wishes certainly outrank those of the prince, I am asking you to abide by Garran’s commands without question and without alerting the king.”

  “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do, my royal?” Slaine addressed me directly instead of answering his sister.

  “Yes, I do understand,” I said and rested my hand on top of his shoulder. “And I also understand there’s a human female destined to suffer under my father’s unnecessary experiments and die in a week’s time. The king is a sadist. He cares for no life except his own. Please, Slaine, take us to cell fifteen.”

  Slaine blinked, his eyes, blue and amber, like his sister’s and mine, flashed with doubt and fear. “And if the king finds out that I’ve—”

  “If my father finds out, I’ll tell him that I deceived and threatened you, and that I stole the code. But if you do as I say, it won’t matter, because he’ll never find out about this. Now, take us to cell fifteen.”

  “As you wish, my royal.”

  “Thank you, Slaine. And thank you for helping the human.”

  My heart rattled against shell. I was so anxious to see her. The one-dimensional photo in her file came to mind, and I remembered the dark circles under her closed eyes and the thin, pale lids that covered them. Everything in that phot
o expressed weakness and fragility, something that didn’t define the girl I grew to know. But there was beauty in that photo as well, the turn of her soft chin, the plumpness of her lips, and the shine of the stuff they call “hair.”

  I couldn’t wait to meet this female human called America.

  Chapter Fifteen

  America

  Something rough rubbed me under the chin. I opened my eyes, stretched into a yawn, and found a blanket draped over my body. It was thick but light in weight, the weave of the fabric rough but slick as I ran my fingers along its edge.

  Slaine! He must have understood that I was freezing my ass off in here. He was gone, or I would have immediately thanked him. He had kept his watch over me, off and on during the day, and had the decency to leave when I activated the toilet and sink to eject from the wall. Even though he couldn’t really see me, it still would have been uncomfortable and awkward to see his shadowy form while I peed.

  Although we couldn’t communicate, seeing his fuzzy figure on the other side of the liquid wall gave me some comfort, especially when I was thinking about Earth and missing Garran’s presence.

  Garran. I was amazed at how much he and I had in common, even though we’d grown up galaxies apart. For all the guys I’d known on Earth, I never felt as connected with any of them the way I did when Garran and I talked about music, about what we wanted from life. Sure, I was initially irritated when he told me who he really was, but I got that he felt powerless and didn’t want to get my hopes up until he figured out a way to rebel against his father in order to help me.

  I stood and wrapped the blanket around myself. It was a bit itchy, but it was warm, and although I had started to get used to my nakedness, it felt good to cover up. My whole body ached from lying on the cold floor when I slept each day, but my skin was smooth and soft from the semi-bath I gave myself earlier, using the soapy liquid I discovered in a compartment built into the sink.

  The soap also made my hair manageable and shiny, and though my teeth had chattered when I dunked my head into the basin of cold water, it was worth being clean and smelling good. I’d give anything for hot showers, real food, and my mom.

  What was happening on Earth? I’d fallen asleep with that question on my mind, and it still lingered. My family and friends were probably worrying and crying about me, just like I was on another planet three galaxies away worrying and crying about them. I hoped they weren’t still being interrogated by the police, or suffering because of my disappearance.

  I missed everyone, even Lois, the bitchy neighbor in the apartment below, who’d yell up at me from the stairwell when I played my music too loud, at least too loud according to her standards. I would have given anything at that moment to be in my apartment getting hollered at, even with Lois holding her cell phone and threatening to call the police.

  If I ever got home, I’d never again take anything for granted.

  Yes, Garran would do it. He’d save me, protect me from the possibility of death even if he couldn’t take me back to Earth, and I simply remained “missing” for years.

  His promise gave me hope. The chance that he could help me, as impossible as it sometimes seemed, was the only thing that kept me from losing my mind—that and recounting Garran’s sweet words…and his hot body.

  A body covered with shell? How could he move and bend so freely while encased in something so hard— It had to be hard or it would break with his weight.

  I closed my eyes and pressed my back against the far wall of my cell, savoring his masculine form in my mind. Holding my blanket, I slid downward until I met the floor.

  Three shadowy figures appeared on the other side of the wall. I recognized Garran’s form right away, and my body relaxed with his close proximity. Another was Slaine, and the third, shorter and thinner shape, was probably that of the female Enestian I saw with Garran the day before.

  I stood and approached the wall. The wave fluttered and then froze, something I hadn’t seen it do before.

  What? Was it going to open? My heart thumped hard. A sizzling sound came next, along with a sweet, zingy odor I couldn’t recognize, and I caught myself holding my breath as the cloudy wall rose slowly. I was finally going to see these beings of shell, and maybe go home if they were here to free me. And how thankful I was to not be naked as I stood in anticipation, clutching the folds of the wrapped blanket at my chest.

  The first thing I saw were two pairs of boots, one pair deep green and velvety, another gray, lacking definition, reaching mid-calf, and then a third set of smaller black shoes with pointed toes and tiny, one-inch heels.

  Black pants were tucked into the tops of the boots, billowing slightly over the boots’ neck before tightening and clinging to the legs underneath. The green boots were Garran’s. The athletic thickness of his legs was undeniable. The gray boots were Slaine’s, and the black, pointy shoes were worn by someone with thin but well-defined legs that were covered in black leggings.

  The hands appeared next, and I held my breath, staring as my mind discerned the fact that instead of skin, ridged shell-like plates encased each finger and wrapped up and around the top of each hand. The arms and torsos became visible next, and I released the air in my lungs, eager to see their faces.

  Garran wore a green shirt that matched his green boots, a shirt embroidered with gold thread in strange angular designs that cut, curled, and zigzagged. In great contrast, Slaine’s shirt was white and non-descript, with the exception of a large pocket over one breast, and the female was dressed in beige, an A-line tunic with long sleeves.

  I took a step forward as the last bit of the clear curtain of confinement retracted into the ceiling.

  I think I gasped. I wasn’t sure. My heart pulsed so strongly I could hear it in my ears and feel it heavy in my chest, wrenching my whole body.

  “America,” said Garran.

  What had I expected they’d look like? I wasn’t sure. I could never construct it my mind, and now after seeing them, I knew I could have never come up with their images on my own.

  Instead of frightening me, Garran’s appearance was amazing. There was nothing to disappoint as he reflected the same silhouette I had come to adore. His face was smooth, curving delicately at his cheeks and chin, but he was masculine and athletic with his broad shoulders and thick upper arms, making him distinctly humanoid with his muscular build. But what did he think of me? Now I was real, no longer just a photograph and a voice.

  Garran’s eyes rode my body. When we made eye contact he smiled, and my heart bounced. Slaine said something to Garran in their native tongue, plates of shell overlapping at his cheeks when he spoke, in sounds that twisted and purred and clicked, and with words that were sometimes fuzzy and sometimes so distinct they seemed almost human.

  When I imagined aliens, I’d always pictured short, thin creatures with big heads and huge eyes—ugly things—but these aliens were true to the sleek forms I’d viewed through the wall. And despite being hairless, they were attractive and humanoid with hard exteriors, making them appear as if they were carved from stone.

  In contrast to their matte shells, their clothing glimmered unnaturally under the light as if each molecule of thread was alive and twinkling in unison with each other, and a badge of sort was attached to the upper left of each of their shirts. Garran’s badge was much more elaborate than the others, with its array of large, multi-colored jewels, while Slaine’s and the female’s were plain, lacking jewels or stones and made with the simple turns of filigree upon gold.

  The female’s long tunic dropped to just above the knee, and as she stood and teetered to the left to rest most of her weight on one foot, I could see that her body thinned at the waist and rounded at the hips just like a human female’s. She was at least a foot shorter than Garran and Slaine. Her nose was smaller, too, and her cheeks curved down to a pointed chin, and though I had a blanket to keep myself covered, I felt naked again as the female’s eyes scanned my body. Bright blue and dotted with amber, her eyes, jud
gmental and empty, were intriguingly beautiful.

  “America,” Garran said again.

  “Garran,” I said, tightening the blanket wrapped around my body and tucking it to hold it in place. “Are you here to take me home?” I asked, rising up on my toes in anticipation of leaving my cell.

  “No, I’m sorry. I just, I just wanted to see you.”

  “Oh.” I sighed and dropped to my heels so hard a dull echo followed. Home—not today—but Garran was a welcomed distraction to my predicament.

  He said something to Slaine and the female, motioning with his hand for them to leave. Slaine turned, but the female held her ground, the place above her eyes coming together as she rattled off something in Enestian. After another exchange, she walked away, her body stiff, the plain filigreed badge she wore flickering when it caught the light. She peered at me through the constricted slits of her eye plates, and the liquid wall spilled back into place behind her and Slaine.

  Garran came closer. His beauty alone was enough to make me swoon as our eyes locked. As he approached, my insides lit with a pleasant heat radiating from my lower abdomen.

  “Can I touch you?” he asked gently.

  “Y-yes.”

  I trusted Garran, although we barely knew each other. Whether it was the warmth in his eyes, the most unique eyes I’d ever seen, or the calm in his voice, I didn’t know, but something told me he wouldn’t hurt me or do something to make me feel awkward or uncomfortable. I wanted to touch him, too.

  Garran took another step forward, and my heart rocked in my chest. He lifted his index finger to my face and gently set his fingertip on my cheek. His hand met my mouth, pushing my bottom lip delicately, then tracing its shape with two additional fingers.

  I closed my eyes, and for a moment I thought I felt his warm breath against my skin.

 

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