by Calista Skye
“The Elders did a lot of things with moons. Most of those things are so weird that we can only guess at why. This is one moon where we can at least pretend to understand some of their reasons.”
We're deep down when he tilts the ship back hard and places the bottom of it against the tunnel wall. “Here we are.”
I have a weird feeling of vertigo. It's like the little spaceship is standing on a vertical wall in much the same way as a housefly. “Is… is this safe?”
Xan'tor gets up and stretches, placing both palms flat on the dome above us. “Safer than a human female running around a Bululg mothership.”
I scratch my chin. “I don't know what that means.”
“It means that it's not the safest thing you've ever done, but also by far not the most unsafe thing you've done today. Does that make sense?”
“More or less.”
“Your Interspeech is really good now, by the way. Let's find some clothes for you.”
We go down to the lounge and Xan'tor produces a heap of old, alien-looking garments. “These came with the ship. See if there's anything you can use.”
I rummage through the heap and find a thing that reminds me of a long-sleeved tunic, smooth and green and four sizes too big. When I put it on it looks most of all like an ill-fitting dress that reaches to halfway down my thighs. A weird, round hat fits me, too, although I suspect it makes me look like a mushroom. I'll save it for a special occasion.
But I doubt I'll need Ingrid. I leave the cellphone on a small, flat surface on the alien sculpture.
Xan'tor picks up a bundle of gray, alien knitwear. “I'll bring this for you. Some places here can get a little cold.”
The hatch opens with a hiss, and I half expect the air to rush out, like it did when that hatch opened back at Xan'tor's base and I was sucked out. But there is air to breathe outside.
“That smell…” I manage, before I have to put the sleeve of the tunic to my nose.
“Methane,” Xan'tor says helpfully. “This moon has a lot of it. But it's only for a little while. Watch out for the gravity change. I'll go first.”
He exits the hatch and holds his blue hand out to me.
I grab it and half fall into his arms when the gravity changes direction as soon as I'm out of the saucer.
We're standing on a ledge in the wall of the immense tunnel, and the only light comes from Xan'tor's ship. The air is very cold, and I tuck my hands into the tunic.
Xan'tor turns his attention to the icy wall. “Now let's see, where is it… ah.”
A large door rolls soundlessly upwards, revealing a dimly lit room inside the ice.
Xan'tor strides in, and I follow.
We're on a ramp that leads straight into the ice. It has a mild incline. The light comes from straight out of the ice, but I can see no particular source for it.
“There's a little bit of a walk,” Xan'tor says cheerfully and pulls me with him.
We walk the ramp and into the ice for maybe five minutes. It gets gradually warmer and less smelly, and when we reach another door that rolls up, the air feels fresh and pleasant.
“You go first in here,” Xan'tor says and stands aside. It's impossible to see what's beyond the door – it's like a gray mist.
I step through the wide door, into the grayness beyond.
17
- Xan'tor -
I go in after her.
On the other side of the gray layer, she stands as if frozen. To my mild chagrin, the shapeless garment hides her roundness, or this would have been a most magnificent image to remember.
Beneath her is the world that the Elder race that once existed built inside this large moon. Everything is artificial, of course. The ground and the sky and the mountains are not real. The sun in the sky and the clouds and the stars at night even less so. But all the plants are real, as far as anyone can tell, and the animals, too.
But I have no idea how it works, and I doubt anyone else has.
The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, the ocean is turquoise, and the forests are green. To me, it's all very alien. It's a replica of a world recreated inside one of the outer moons in the solar system.
We're on a ledge high up on a mountainside, and the breeze brings with it the sweet scent of an untouched, impossibly varied landscape that stretches all the way into the horizon. There's jungle and savannah and oceans and lakes and desert. There are mountain ranges and craggy coastlines and even polar regions. The horizon curves strongly, showing how small this ball really is. What we can see from here is only a small fraction of it, but it is probably the most interesting fraction.
I let Mila enjoy the view for a while. She needs something to take her mind off recent events. I could sense her getting depressed, and I don't want her to be.
I yearn to reach out one hand and stroke her hair, to pull her in and tell her that everything is going to be fine. But I don't know if that's true. And I doubt she would appreciate me taking liberties like that.
“What do you think?”
She tries to take it all in. “It's totally beautiful. It's like Earth! Actually, is this Earth? Is the moon some kind of portal or something?”
I take a deep breath of the wonderfully fresh air. “I don't think so. We're still inside the moon.”
“Then how is this possible? It looks just like my home planet.”
“Nobody knows how. Those who knew are no longer available to be asked. We just accept that it exists. It’s much smaller than the actual Earth, of course. Still, it fills a large part of this moon, so it must have been important to them. It's actually not the weirdest thing the Elders did with moons. Not by a long stretch.”
She points. “Can we go down there?”
I take her hand and lead her down the side of the mountain. I have been here a couple of times before, mostly to study the weather patterns and get used to the geography of Earth before I led the invasion of the real Earth. As a copy of a planet, this is immensely accurate. So accurate that it can be used to plan military campaigns.
We get down to the savannah, and I look around carefully. Not only are the plants real – the animals are, too. And not all of them are friendly.
“It looks like Africa,” Mila says, bending down to study a flower. “It's hot, too.”
Indeed, the artificial sun is beating down pretty hard. “There are many sectors. It seems all the climates of Earth are represented.”
Mila shrugs off her ridiculous dress and drapes it over one arm. “Are there people living here?”
The sudden sight of her body clad in only small pieces of fabric has my crotch swell pleasantly. “No sentients. Many creatures of other types.”
“Dangerous ones?”
“I assume so. I haven't seen the whole place. Only a little part of it.”
The deep, rhythmic roar of an ocean reaches us from not too far away.
Mila shades her eyes with one small hand. “Is there water?”
“Sounds like it.” I start walking in the direction of the sound, and Mila follows. The ground is grassy, and we don't make much sound. But it's not quiet. The breeze rustles the treetops, and there is a constant hiss of living creatures all around us. Some have wings and can be seen flying alone and in flocks, and some appear to live in the trees.
“I haven't seen the ocean since… well, before the invasion,” Mila says.
I pick up a random stick and throw it as far as I can. Somehow the gravity is the same as on Earth, so it doesn't travel all that far. “Big oceans on Earth.”
“Yeah.”
“Beautiful planet,” I offer weakly.
“Used to be. After the Bululg came, it feels like it's not the same.”
“There are worse fates than being invaded by the Bululg.”
“I doubt it.”
Hm. This isn't working the way I had planned. I wanted to cheer her up, but instead she's still down. “Sometimes, whole planets are blown up or sterilized. The Bululg are nasty, I agree. But most of the people on Ea
rth will survive. Not every species is that lucky.”
We walk a few paces in silence, and soon the glittering surface of an ocean can be seen between the bushes ahead.
She gives me a shy little glance. “Why do you work for them?”
It is a question I have asked myself. Quite recently, too. “For the Bululg? We all need something to do. Ideally, something that pays. And the Bululg pay very well.”
“Isn't it beneath you? Dishonorable? You don't keep slaves, yourself. But you're happy to help people who abduct and sell women for breeding.”
I stop in my tracks and fix her with a stare. “Some of us have duties to others. And we take them seriously, without being selfish about it. Without feeling that anything is beneath us. Perhaps without being happy about everything we do, but still knowing our duty and being conscious that others depend on us doing it. Does that answer your question?”
She thinks about it, then walks on. “No.”
I frown. Is she trying to be obnoxious? But no, there's no sign of that on her delicate face as she trudges along with that peculiar swing of her hips.
We walk in silence to the shore. The ocean is strangely narrow, as if we're in a bay, but it continues to the curved horizon in endless, light blue waves.
The surf breaks along the rocky shore, and flying creatures make bright, eager noises as they spot us and take off.
Mila walks up to the waves and squats down.
Before I can stop her, she puts her whole arm into the water. “It's pretty warm.”
“It is often a good idea to not stick one's entire arm into an unknown body of fluid on an alien planet,” I say tightly. “You never know what kind of liquid it might be.”
“Oh, sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all. “It just looks so much like the ocean back home. And I think,” she puts her hand to her mouth and tastes it, much to my horror, “that it's salt water. Yep. Smells like it, too.”
I just grunt, both relieved and annoyed. On a lot of planets I know, this could have been a lake of acid or arsenic or any number of other unhealthy substances.
Mila glances up at me. “You think it would be safe to take a little bath?”
I frown. “A bath?”
“Just a quick dip. In and out again in two seconds.”
Bending down, I scoop some water in my hand and hold it to my nose. She's right – it’s water and salts and iodine and a myriad of other substances, mostly organic with some microscopic life forms. “Nothing too lethal in it. I suppose it would be moderately safe. But why?”
She has a little smile on her face. “Why take a bath? Doesn't your species do that?”
“We really don't.”
“Oh. No water on your planet?”
I think back to my childhood and the darkness of the giant lakes of Caross, the coldness and the deadly predators and the necessity to dive into them to get certain foods for the clan. I can barely suppress a shudder. “Lots of water. We spend a lot of time in it when we're young. And then we never go near it again.”
“See, on Earth, we love the ocean. Okay, I'll be up again in a moment.”
To my astonishment, she takes off her upper garment, drops it to the ground, and dives straight into the water as if it gives her joy.
18
- Mila -
The water feels cool right away, then warm as soon as I resurface and throw my wet hair back. I tread water for a moment, then swim a few strokes away from the shore, just for the enjoyment of it. It's been a long time since I went for a swim, and I used to be pretty good at it. Still am, probably.
I swim back and touch the wet rock that Xan'tor is squatting on. “You don't want to try? It's nice and warm.”
“I have been surrounded by water enough for several lifetimes, thank you.”
“You afraid of getting wet?” I tease. My bad mood is gone.
He looks like he's thinking. “Not really.”
“Good.” On a sudden impulse, I pull my whole arm back and then hard forwards, splashing the blue alien with gallons of water. “Because now you are.”
He slowly straightens and looks down himself. His ripped pants are soaked and he's dripping.
Then he looks at me, frowning with those twin suns. An angry growl fills the air.
Shit. I probably shouldn't be teasing a giant warrior alien. “Sorry! It's only water, it will dry in the sun aaaaieeee!”
Suddenly, Xan'tor flings himself right at me, head first. He splashes down on top of me, then grabs on to me and pulls me under.
I panic, flailing wildly with arms and legs. But he holds me tightly and lifts me until my head is clear of the water and I can breathe again.
“You had your fun,” Xan'tor growls into my ear. “Now I will have mine. It's safe, I promise. Take five deep breaths and hold the last one.”
“No,” I protest. “Please—”
“One. Two. Threeeee.”
I think I better do what he says. I take four hurried breaths, then a really deep one that I don't exhale.
The alien holds onto me, pulls me down again, and turns me around so we're both head down. Then he propels us through the water, down into the depths. He moves so powerfully that the pressure rises fast and my ears start to ache.
Oh, God. He might not know how long I can go without breathing. Which is not long at all. Maybe a minute at most, and then I'll definitely need some air.
Beneath us it's dark. We stick with the side of the rock, and suddenly Xan'tor comes to a halt and makes us hover.
“Breathe out,” he says into my ear, his voice distorted by the water.
I do, and bubbles rise from my mouth.
He puts his mouth to mine and gently allows me to pull fresh air into my lungs, once, twice.
I immediately feel better. He gets it. I'm safe with him.
Looking around, I immediately spot a whole lot of fish in all colors of the rainbow. This is what an undisturbed ocean would look like.
“Breathe out gradually on the way up,” Xan'tor says into my ear, and I nod.
Then, still holding onto me, he turns us so our heads point up. Then he kicks hard with his feet and propels us up through the water so fast I doubt any fish could keep up with us.
Faster and faster we rise through the water towards the brightness above. It's not clear to me how this is even possible – there must be a limit to what kind of speed you can achieve underwater, but this feels insanely fast, and my hair is pulled back hard, past my face.
I exhale on the way. It gets lighter and lighter around us.
Suddenly, we're out of the water, still going fast upwards, like the cork from a champagne bottle. The air whistles around my ears, and I'm seeing the ocean and the Earth landscape from above. We must be a hundred feet up, the sun heating my skin and fresh air filling my lungs. I scream, both from terror and exhilaration.
The relief of being out of the water, Xan'tor’s strong arms around me, the rocket-like speed, and the spectacle of the emerald green Earth landscape under me fill me with an intense feeling of freedom. My scream turns into a whoop of joy as I let myself just enjoy being alive, enjoy being in the power of benevolent forces infinitely stronger than me.
We reach the top of the arc, and then we fall through the air. The water is far below, but I'm not worried. Xan'tor will not let me come to any harm, I just know it.
He shields me as we splash down and sink pretty deep before we rise back up. Then we're bobbing on the surface.
I catch my breath and my bearings. Then I put my arms around his neck and pull him to me. “Thank you.”
“Did you enjoy it?” His lips are full and wide.
“I did. Do it again?”
His eyes glitter. “The first time is always the best. The surprise makes the relief better. I thought you needed some relief.”
No, I can't stand it anymore. If not this guy, then who?
Pulling him closer, I place my lips on his.
He calmly responds, turning my clumsiness into a
salty, passionate kiss that chases the last bit of chaos out of my mind.
I cling to him as he carries me ashore, water cascading off us.
He lays me down on the grass, and I can't help but notice the twitching bulge in his pants.
The sight turns my insides to liquid heat.
Yeah. I want that. I almost died in the auction hall, having never experienced what it's like. The situation I'm in seems to have no other outcome than a violent death. But damn it, I don't want to die a virgin. And now I don't have to.
I reach out and cup the bulge. It twitches under the wet fabric.
“Show me,” I demand. Resistance fighters have no time for long rituals.
Xan'tor gives me a little smirk and unfastens his pants.
Before I know it, a dark blue, alien manhood stands skywards and I gasp as the heat in my pelvic region reaches ridiculous levels.
It's long and thick, but not so huge that it will kill me. It could get close, though. It has alien ridges and bulbs and protrusions that look both soft and scary.
Grabbing it, I and feel the strange soft hardness, like a steel rod clad in satin. Except this is alive, warm, and pulsating with male power.
It jumps in my hands when I stroke the skin. God, what would that feel like inside me? I actually have no idea, but I need it.
I look up at him. “Do it.”
He kneels down beside me, cups one breast, and kisses me again. “So soft,” he growls.
I'm astonished at the softness of his lips, and I greedily, almost desperately kiss him back. I need and want this. I can only hope that he won't hurt me.
“Be careful,” I plead. “It's my first time.”
He flashes me a little extra light with his eyes. “Then it should be a good one.”
He lays me down and peels my panties down, and I eagerly lift my hips so they can slide off.
“Beautiful in every way,” Xan'tor growls with a hoarse voice, giving me confidence.
The mild breeze strokes my girly parts, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. And at the same time perfectly safe with this blue alien with the spikes. He's determined, and he plainly knows what he's doing. Every touch of his dangerous fingers with their hidden claws leaves goosebumps in its wake.
