Alien Frog Prince (A Space Age Fairy Tale)

by J. M. Page

  The door slid open before she ever approached, a sullen-looking Delta on the other side waiting for her.

  “Hi,” Delta said, hardly even looking at her.

  “Hi,” Mara echoed, her own voice sounding hollow and distant. She’d never really had to say goodbye to anyone like this before. The closest thing was when she’d boarded the ship and her dad was taken away, but there was no time for goodbyes then.

  Neither one of them said anything. There was nothing to say. The silence dragged and stretched and pulled, but still they couldn’t break it. Finally, Mara stepped forward and hugged Delta fiercely. Tight enough to make it hard to breathe.

  Tears choked her, clogging her sinuses, making her sniffle. Delta hugged her back, so hard that a few of her vertebrae popped.

  Mara sucked in a deep breath, shoving the tears deep down inside, refusing to let them out. She didn’t want to give Torak that satisfaction. She didn’t want to let on how devastated she really was.

  “I have to take you down,” Delta said, her voice breaking. That was nearly enough to make Mara lose it, but she held on to her barely-there composure. She could get through this. It would be hard, but it would be over soon. She wondered if she’d make friends on the new ship, but even if she did, she was sure none of them would be like Delta.

  “Let’s go then,” she said, linking arms with Delta as they headed down the corridor. In Mara’s head, a morose soundtrack played, an unsettling march that sounded like doom.

  They made it down to the pod bay, where the doors weren’t open yet. Torak was there, among other notable crew people, but he was the only one she focused on.

  Silently, in her head, she barraged him with a litany of questions. Why are you doing this? Why are you so stubborn? Can’t you see how cruel this is? What is wrong with you? But she couldn’t voice any of them. What good would it do?

  “Ready then?” he asked, expression oddly unreadable. If she didn’t know any better, Mara would think he was excited about this. The thought made her stomach turn, her esophagus filling with acid. What kind of person took this much glee in the misery of someone else? She was all wrong about him and it hurt so much more than anything else had recently. More than finding out her mother’s fate. More than learning about the destruction of her homeworld. Torak’s betrayal cut deeper than anything else because it felt personal.

  A disease didn’t care who it hurt or which lives it destroyed. It was indiscriminate, without motivation. Torak was worse than that; he knew what he was doing and still didn’t care.

  Steeling her spine, Mara gave him a stiff nod.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, barely able to push back a sob that cracked in her voice. Don’t give him that.

  He rested his broad hand between her shoulder blades and Mara warred internally with whether she should pull away or enjoy this one last touch from him. In the end, she let it happen, let the gentle warmth and weight of him seep in, making her heart ache unbearably.

  He steered her towards the pod bay door and it opened with a hydraulic hiss, slowly falling forward.

  Mara blinked at the bright light, unable to focus on anything at first with all the sunlight streaming into the pod bay. But then the blinding white of fresh light faded and her pupils adjusted to a world bombarded with color.

  Even bombarded seemed like an understatement. Mara took a step forward, blinking, trying to make sense of what world they were on as her senses were assaulted.

  The stone street that spread out before the ship was washed with shades of indigo, violet, and bright blue. Buildings that lined the quaint streets had splashes of crimson, orange, and sunny yellow and everywhere she looked down the street, near the buildings, there were stalls, booths, and carts offering wares. There were banners and flowers, floating lights and so much noise that it was overwhelming.

  Sounds of music, laughter, noisemakers, and cheering all crushed in, rushing in through the open bay door like a tidal wave. Delicious smells followed, smoked meats and exotic spices.

  Torak still nudged her forward, even as Mara struggled to take it all in. Where were they? She blinked a few more times, thinking the mirage would clear, expecting to instead be in some dingy base with leaky pipes and angry faces.

  She stepped onto the aquamarine cobblestones and craned her head up towards the sky, filled with dancing shimmering rainbows. People moved through the streets, shopping at the stalls, walking hand-in-hand, pointing excitedly. Almost every person was another assault of color, covered head to toe in patches of bright concentrated pigments.

  A passerby smiled at them and tossed a handful of jade-colored powder in their direction, getting both Mara and Torak. The powder clung to her skin and her clothes, so vibrant she was almost tempted to smile. If the circumstances were different…

  But really, what was going on here? She looked up at Torak, who now had a streak of green going down the side of his face to his neck.

  “What…?” She didn’t even know how to finish the question. There were a hundred questions, but she didn’t know how to voice any of them.

  He stopped, turned to face her, and took both of her hands in his. He squeezed her hands, sending a flutter of anticipation through Mara despite herself, and looked down at her fingers, not making eye contact at first. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was acting… shy?

  Finally, he cleared his throat and met her gaze. She sucked in a breath, not seeing any of the walls or hardness in his eyes that she was used to. It was just openness and vulnerability, like that night they’d kissed.

  “Mara, I’ve made some poor decisions. I’ve treated you in ways you don’t deserve. I’ve run from my feelings out of fear and… I regret it all.”

  Her heart hammered against the inside of her chest. A million more questions sprang to her mind, but she tried to tamp them down, intent to hear him out.

  “I’ve never been forced to confront my feelings like I am with you. I’ve never thought I could be anything more than what I am. But I want to try harder. I wish to be better. To stop letting my past dictate my future. I need you to do that. You make me better, you make me strive to be the man I’ve always wanted to be. And if you can manage to forgive me, I’d like to spend my life being better… for you.”

  Mara couldn’t really believe her ears. Did he really just say all those things out loud to her? Did he mean it?

  Another stranger pranced by with fistfuls of pink and yellow powders, dousing them in more color.

  Mara smiled — beamed, actually. “You brought me to the color festival to tell me that?”

  Torak gave her hand another squeeze. “I remembered how badly you wanted to see it. Does it live up to your expectations?”

  She looked all around, then settled on him, her hand cradling his jaw as she leaned up on the tips of her toes. “Even better,” she said, kissing him there in front of the crew and everybody. She didn’t care who saw or who knew. Her heart felt lighter than ever. Floating, expanding, filled with too much happiness to contain.

  “So, is that a yes?” he asked, a hand snaking around her waist, pulling her closer, upwards toward him, his lips waiting just hovering above hers.

  She nodded, never blinking, searching his eyes. “Yes,” she said, closing the gap with a drawn-out kiss. When she pulled away, she furrowed her brow, giving him the sternest look she could muster. “But next time, don’t wait so long to admit I’m right.”

  Torak laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. “You have my word.”

  They started walking towards the heart of the festival and Mara laughed. “The word of a pirate, eh? How much is that worth?”

  Torak smirked, doing a good job looking mock-offended. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been considering hanging up my pirate hat.”

  That gave Mara pause. “Oh?”

  He nodded, seemingly proud of himself for surprising her. “I’ve been thinking I’d like to do more aid missions, more delivering supplies to the dangerous reaches that ot
hers are too smart to venture into.”

  “How noble,” Mara said, only a little bit of jest in her tone. She had to admit, it sounded much more respectable than his usual line of work.

  “Enough about that, don’t you want to enjoy this festival?”

  They found their way into the main city square and were immediately bombarded with more fistfuls of color until it was impossible to see anything but the bright pigments on their skin. Mara took him by both hands and dragged him toward the circle of moving people.

  “Yes, let’s dance!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Torak

  Things were going better than he could have ever expected. Mara accepted his apology, accepted him and he didn’t know why she did, but he was so glad for it. Happier than he’d ever been before. Somehow, everything was going to work out just fine.

  He watched her dance, spinning and twirling, her hair fanning out behind her, her face split into the widest grin. She glowed brighter than the hottest stars, shone more than a supernova. She was captivating, breath-taking, and yes, he had no doubt that he loved her.

  One dance melded into another and the crowd shifted around them. Torak lost sight of Mara, but still couldn’t lose this feeling of buoyancy and happiness that lightened him. He’d give anything in the universe to always see her this free and joyous.

  Finally, he’d done the right thing. Finally, he did a good thing without it being misinterpreted. Mara did that for him. She made him capable. Confident in his abilities to do good. Secure with the lack of intimidation and coercion. He didn’t think he could be that person without her.

  The crowd kept moving and Mara never reappeared. Torak searched for her, trying to spot her over everyone else, but all the colors blurred together. He was sure she couldn’t be far, but losing her in the crowd when all he wanted to do was be close to her was upsetting.

  He waded through the throngs of people, picking his way around twirling dancers, calling her name, looking for any sign of her.

  Every minute that went by, his worry grew. He couldn’t help but remember how quickly her father had snatched her from his very ship. What if he was here now? There to take her away again?

  Panic gripped his intestines at the thought, wringing them until he was sure he’d be sick. She had to be there somewhere. He couldn’t have lost her. Not now, not after everything.

  He made his way around the circle and spotted a break in the crowd. Where everywhere else people were dancing and laughing and singing, here, they were gathered in a smaller ring, some concerned faces looking around, seeming at a loss for what to do.

  His pulse raced, alarm stampeding through his veins as he shoved through the onlookers, silently praying that he was wrong. He broke through the inner ring of spectators and his blood turned to ice — he found Mara, crumpled on the ground, unconscious.

  Torak rushed to her side, lifting her head gently. “Mara? Mara sweetheart?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to the crowd, venom in his voice. “Who saw what happened to her? Who did this?”

  “She collapsed,” a man said, but Torak didn’t see who. There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd, and Torak fought back the urge to rage at every last one of them. They didn’t do this. He didn’t think they did. He just had to be angry at something.

  But anger needed to wait. Right now, he was full of worry and fear. She was still breathing, but her skin felt cold, damp, and her face was screwed up in an expression of pain.

  “Mara, honey, stay with me,” he said, even though she remained unresponsive. He scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest the same way he had when he rescued her from her father. Never in his life had he been as terrified as he was that day. Not until now.

  With Mara in his arms, Torak sprinted for the ship, shouting at anyone who dared get in his way. He didn’t know what was wrong with her, what could have happened, but he needed to get away from all the people and the madness.

  Most of the crew were still on board when he showed up again. They hadn’t had enough time to get everything re-stocked and ready for the next launch, so they hadn’t left yet.

  That was just as well, because he needed help.

  “Sande!” he bellowed, the moment he boarded. “Someone get me Sande!”

  He ran, carrying Mara up to his own quarters where he could lay her on the bed. They’d need to get a medic — a real medic, not a ship medic — as fast as possible. Sande burst through the door not long after he arrived, his face stricken with panic that mirrored Torak’s.

  “Captain? What’s the matt— Oh,” he said, his eyes settling on Mara, his face going from panicked to repentant.

  Torak whirled on Sande, fury clouding his vision. Sande knew something. He’d been keeping it from him. “Oh?” he fumed. “Oh, what?”

  Sande held up his hands, backing away slowly. “Calm down, I will tell you what I know. It won’t help if you rip off my head before I can explain.”

  Torak crossed his arms, gritted his teeth, and sent a worried look in Mara’s direction. “I’m listening,” he ground out.

  Sande sighed. “I was afraid something like this might happen again.”

  “Again?”

  “While we were in port at Haven, she… Well, she escaped and tripped the alarm. I followed her and saw her collapse. She begged me not to tell you because she wasn’t meant to leave the ship…”

  “And you agreed?” Torak said, his rage simmering just below the surface. Sande was his First Mate, his best friend. He wasn’t supposed to keep secrets from Torak. That wasn’t how this worked.

  Sande had the good sense to look deeply apologetic. “I didn’t see what purpose it would serve to inform you. However, she did mention something to me about regular doses of medicine. I’ve wondered if it’s the same medicine her father went into debt with us for.”

  It took a moment for Torak to connect the dots. Once the realization hit him, it hit hard. Like running face first into a wall of ice. It slammed into him and then, the longer it lingered, the colder he got.

  “Pull up the records, I need to see what he was getting. We need to know what we’re dealing with here.” He gave the order to Sande just as he had a million others in their time together, but none were as serious as this. None so dire. None of those other orders had such a tight unflinching grasp around his heart.

  He’d done this to himself. He took the man’s daughter, ignored his protests, ignored Sande when he tried to warn him, ignored the signs of her illness. He just forged ahead without blinking, without pausing. Now it was coming back to bite him.

  So many things made sense now. He understood why the old man was so desperate to get his daughter back. If she needed regular medication, then it made sense. But why didn’t Mara tell him? Why wasn’t she worried? She never gave any indication that anything was wrong with her health and she never seemed to believe her father when he said she needed to be with him to be safe.

  That could only mean one thing.

  She didn’t know.

  Torak gazed down upon her beautiful face, pale and twisted in an expression of pain. He brushed his fingertips lightly across her forehead, pushing damp hair out of her face.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. “I was so stubborn about accepting it, but I know now that you make me so much better. I want to be better, Mara. You can’t leave me yet. Not when we’re only getting started.” His chest tightened and for the first time in his adult life, Torak thought he might actually cry at the thought of losing his beloved. It was too much. Too real. Too devastating.

  Sande returned, his face drawn into a carefully crafted expression of neutrality.

  “So?” Torak asked, not wasting any time. Mara’s skin was so cold, her breathing so shallow. He didn’t know how much time she had.

  “I have good news, bad news, and worse news,” Sande said, clasping his hands in front of him.

  Torak growled. “Just tell me what’
s going on. What’s wrong with her?”

  Sande swallowed thickly, the muscles in his throat working hard as he struggled to force the words out. It looked like it took a great effort, but Torak just wanted him to get on with it.

  “It’s the Asanin Plague, sir.”

  Torak’s heart seized, air left his lungs, and his skin turned to ice. The most notorious disease in the galaxy had its hooks in his woman.

  “Please tell me that’s the worse news,” he said, remembering there was good news. He looked back at Mara, saying a silent little prayer to no one in particular that she’d be okay.

  Sande cleared his throat painfully. “Uh, not exactly. The good news is that the Brahmin hospital has a stock of antidotes since the disease has been spreading in this quadrant lately. The more unfortunate news is that no one has ever lived with a dormant strain as far as anyone’s concerned. No one knows if the cure will work, or how much of the cure it will take to work on someone who’s lived with the disease their whole life. And…”