Treading up a rocky mountain, the one that separates the two major clans, Theon spots a garr. Hunched down low, he waits as the beast walks with its head down in his direction. They are slow creatures but fierce and deadly, with their large size, claws, and sharp teeth.
Just as it passes Theon’s hiding spot, he leaps to his feet and rushes the animal, letting out a battle cry. Jumping on the garr’s back, he stabs his knife deep into the creature’s neck.
Not giving up easily, the garr stands at least nine feet tall on its two back legs and thrashes wildly, trying to throw Theon off.
With his arms circling the creature’s neck, he locks his knees over its sides. Grabbing the hilt of the knife that protrudes from the neck, he stabs the creature two more times. Blood gushes out, pouring onto the ground. Theon feels the garr slow as he holds on for dear life. Timing it just right, he jumps from the creature’s back before it tumbles lifeless to the ground.
Breathing heavily, he stands victorious over his prey. The pelt will make an excellent liner for his pallet, and the meat will feed them for days to come.
Kneeling at the garr’s side, Theon grabs one front leg and one back leg, lifting the creature over his shoulders. He strains with the effort but still manages to get to his feet.
Theon’s steps are heavy when he enters camp, and he drops the garr on the ground near Odias’ feet, causing a loud thump.
Odias’ face splits wide as he pokes at the raging fire. Glancing at Theon, he shakes his head. “I knew you would go after a garr.”
Theon wipes the sweat from his brow. “You know me well, my friend.” As he walks past Odias, he claps him on the shoulder. “We will eat well tonight.”
After cutting up the meat, they roast some over the open fire while packing the rest in sarka, a natural preservative that will cure the meat and keep it from spoiling.
They sit on flat rocks that surround the fire pit, eating the cooked meat. The sound of crackling embers as the fire dies down and the occasional roar of an animal keep them company as they continue to eat. Odias finishes his food, licks his fingers, then asks, “Do you think Toran will have any luck finding a compatible race?”
Theon never really thinks about Toran and the great beyond. Not that he is happy living a life of solitude. Nights grow lonely, and at times he wishes he had someone to share his pallet. But there is no reason to talk about things you cannot change.
For unknown reasons, the female population is dwindling. Some speculate that the Northern Clan is to blame, claiming that one day they will take over the entire planet. But in truth, scientists cannot find a logical reason.
The ratio now is one female for every hundred males, and most have given up hope of finding someone. Especially Theon.
Born to the ruling clan, he is an anomaly. His hair and eyes clearly mark him as different. Theon’s hair shines brighter, his eyes lighter, his strength unmatched by anyone in the Southern Clan. Rumors have spread far and wide that he is cursed; others claim he is the Chosen. His family keeps him at arm’s length, not sure what to make of the difference.
Odias, the son of the maid’s lady who raised Theon, is his one and only true friend. Growing up, they had their own scuffles, but they never lasted. Odias is more of a brother to Theon than Jeat will ever be.
“I’m not sure.” Theon gnaws on his meat before looking at his friend with a smile plastered on his face. “Could you imagine taking an alien female as a mate?”
Odias laughs. “We could get lucky, and she would have three breasts.”
“Knowing my luck, she would have two heads and three eyes.”
When the laughter dies down, Odias’ face turns more serious. “Would you consider one of the females from the Commons?”
Theon thinks about it. That question has popped into his mind several thousand times, especially when his nights have grown lonely. Many females try to gain his attention, but in all honesty, none of them has really drawn his attention for longer than a night of bed sport.
Growing up different made him a stronger person on the inside, and except for his best friend, Odias, he depends only on himself.
Every time a female approaches him, which is often, he holds himself back and offers only polite conversation and appropriate smiles. Only every now and then when the need grows strong does Theon take a female to her bed, not his.
“No, not really. None of them really interests me. How about you? Are you hoping to gain someone’s attention?” Odias grins, and with his head down, he lifts his eyes. Theon’s face splits wide. “Ah, I see. Who is she?”
“I have been talking to Shena.”
Theon furrows his brow, thinking. “She’s the quiet one who sits apart from the other females.”
“That’s her. She’s different. At least I think she’s different.”
“How so?”
“She doesn’t believe in jumping from one male to the next.”
“She told you this?”
“She did. She doesn’t like living in the Commons. She would rather be topside.”
Theon’s eyes shot to his friend, holding his stare, and then offering a genuine smile. “That sounds promising.”
“Yes, it does. But the other females are giving her a hard time because of it.”
“Let me guess, Tarra is one of them.”
Odias nods.
Of course she is. The females know they hold power over the males, knowing they can give them offspring. Tarra, the obvious leader of the Commons, has been after Theon for a long time, but he can’t shake the bad feeling that springs forth every time she nears. He feels like a pawn in some sort of unknown game.
“I can’t explain why, but I feel like that female is bad news.”
“I agree.”
Odias grabs his pack and unrolls a blanket, stretching it across the grassy area. Theon stands and stretches his arms above his head before grabbing his own blanket.
With one arm behind his head, Theon lies down, staring at the stars. “See you in the morn,” he hears Odias say, followed by the rustle of clothing as he turns onto his side.
“G’night, friend.”
The first streaks of light race across the sky, waking Theon. Odias is already awake, his blanket rolled and packed on the gamel.
“You should have woken me.” Theon sits up and rubs his eyes before leaping to his feet.
Odias throws him a smile over his shoulder. “I knew you would wake soon.” Walking over to the last embers of the smoking fire, he kicks dirt over the top, effectively putting out the fire.
Theon packs the extra meat into his pannier, then pats the side of Coliea’s face before mounting the animal in one swift move. “Ready to head out?”
Odias mounts his own. “Yes, let’s go.”
The two ride the border, looking for trespassers or other unusual signs that someone has been in their territory. Nothing out of the ordinary catches their attention as they guide the gamels over the rough terrain. Two moon cycles pass before they arrive back at the stables.
Just as they are unpacking the stored meat, Yori comes rushing in.
“What’s wrong?” a startled Theon asks the young male.
“Did you hear the news?” He’s panting, and he leans over and places his hands on his knees.
Odias’ fingers work the pannier straps as he looks over his shoulder with curious eyes. “What news?”
“Toran arrived home today! And he brought someone with him!”
“Whom did he bring?” Theon asks as he lifts the pannier of stored meat and slings it over his shoulder.
“A female with dark hair, at least that is what I heard.”
“You have not yet seen her?”
“No, but I will head to the female Commons soon. Maybe I will catch a glimpse of her.” The look of pure delight shines on Yori’s face as he trots off.
“Do you think… Is it possible that Toran has found a compatible race?”
Theon thinks about it and then shrugs. “Why else wo
uld he bring home a female from another planet?”
If Toran has found a compatible species, hope will rise throughout the Southern Clan. For a brief second, Theon ponders the female. Where does she come from? What does she look like? Instead of heading to the female Commons, Theon heads in the other direction with a smile on his face. He’s happy for the others, but he has work to do. The meat must be stored.
8
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Catalina
The ride down to the planet is terrifyingly exuberant. At first glance from a shuttle window, the world looks wild… untamed. Large trees, mountains, sharp rocks and cliffs, patches of grasslands. Her breath hitches at the beauty of a large waterfall as it rushes forth with vigor, dropping at least a hundred feet before crashing into rocks and water at the bottom. It looks like a scene from a movie, but the colors are all wrong.
As the shuttle nears a rock wall, she gasps when the rocks part and they carefully maneuver inside.
“I don’t understand.” She furrows her brow as she sits with her hand touching the window, staring at the lighted landing pad. Her heart had slowed but has now picked up speed again as she gets her first look around.
A high-tech area with natural illumination comes into view as everyone rushes around, preparing for them to disembark.
Toran shuts off the power and turns to face her. “What do you mean?”
“Why are we underground?” Thoughts of Area 51 pop into her mind as fear flashes inside. Toran is quick to put her at ease.
“Storms prevent us from using any type of electronics topside, so most of us choose to live down here. The females live here in the Commons so they can be better protected.”
Several words swirl inside as she tries to discern what he’s talking about. Commons. Protected. Protected from what? What she settles on, what she chooses to focus on is, “Storms?”
“Geometric storms.” He stands, and with the dip of his hand, he gestures toward the door. “Shall we?”
Catalina glances around and notices that they are the last two remaining on the shuttle. Taking a long slow breath, she steels her nerves and pushes up from the chair.
She stands at the top of the steps, and everyone below stands frozen, looking up in her direction. Her hands tremble, so she crosses her arms and hides them.
“Come. I’ll show you to the Commons.”
With her chin tilted slightly up, Catalina holds her shoulders back and follows Toran down the four steps. The cool air feels good on her flushed cheeks. Just as she reaches the bottom, one male comes bursting through the door. He walks with purpose as he heads toward them.
Toran notices the newcomer, stops instantly, and inclines his head.
The male stops inches away from Toran. He radiates power and strength. “Toran, I see you have returned.” His eyes slide briefly over Toran’s shoulder and land on Catalina. “With good news, I hope.”
Toran glances back at Catalina before answering. “Possibly.”
The way he says it and the way the newcomer’s eyes slide down her body make Catalina feel like she is here for breeding and nothing more. A hard-lump coils inside, and she bites her lower lip to keep from mouthing off. They are out of their minds if they think she will let them use her as breeding stock.
“Jeat, this is Catalina. Catalina, this is Jeat, the leader of the Southern Clan.”
Neither of them says anything as they stand holding each other’s gaze. For some reason she can’t explain, she refuses to be submissive as he looks. Waiting, but knowing almost nothing about their culture, Catalina doesn’t know the customary greeting. After a few seconds, Jeat offers a forced smile. “I hope you will be happy here.”
Me too, she wants to say, but it comes out more politely. “Thank you.”
With the greetings out of the way, Toran turns around and faces her. “Come. I will show you to the Commons.”
Toran walks briskly away, leaving her to keep up, but she keeps stopping to look at one thing and then another. It amazes her that the Curazin people have an underground city. Looking up, there is no evidence of lights, but it is as bright as daytime.
“Where does the light come from?” she asks, turning circles while staring at the top of the cave. If you can even call it a cave with its city-like qualities… It should be named Hidden Curaz.
Toran’s lips twitch in amusement. “The cave walls contain minerals that absorb light from topside and then illuminate the interior.”
“Amazing…”
“Come on.” He nods as he speaks the words.
She follows in awe as she spots vendors selling merchandise, restaurants serving food. People, or aliens, are everywhere as they fill the walkways. An underground city of vast expanse that both amazes and intrigues Catalina.
Toran leads her to another smaller compartment. It is a small rail-car system without the rails. A glass door slides open, and he ushers her inside. It is just the two of them, but it can hold up to six people.
She slides into one chair while Toran slides into another, facing her. “Here, let me help you.” He pulls the harness over her shoulders and clicks it into place.
“Why do we need to—?” The rail car shoots off with such speed, Catalina grabs blindly for anything to hold onto as a scream tears loose from her throat.
When the car finally stops, her chest is heaving from fear. Her wild eyes pierce Toran as she demands, “What the hell was that?”
“This is a turbo-tube. It’s the way we get around quickly from one place to another.”
Angrily, she unbuckles the harness and throws it off her shoulders. “How about a little warning next time!”
“My apologies,” he offers as he extends his hand to help her out. She refuses. It doesn’t take long to let the anger drain away as she follows behind him.
This area, the Commons, makes Catalina smile. Kids run around playing as females watch after them. There are very few males in this area. Her shoulders visibly relax.
A little boy, he looks to be around five human years, spots her first. He comes running over, and with a big grin, he blurts, “Who are you?”
She kneels on one knee. Looking the little one in the eyes, she says with a warm smile, “I’m Catalina.”
“You look funny!” He tilts his head to the side and studies her.
Catalina laughs. “I suppose I do.”
“Hamal!” An older female comes rushing over. “I’m sorry, Toran,” she says as she grabs the child’s hand.
“No worries.”
“Hamal, what have I told you about manners?” Her eyes dart toward Catalina briefly before she quickly ushers Hamal away.
As Catalina watches their retreating backs, a feeling of disappointment overcomes her. For some reason, she knows that the older female doesn’t want her around the child. She really is the alien here.
“This way.” Toran heads inside a doorway.
The Commons are apartments that form a circle. In the center, there is a round open area where the females sit and chat with each other. Flowers bloom and kids play. It reminds Catalina of a park.
A beautiful female wearing a long, flowing, tan dress rushes over to greet Toran.
“This is a nice surprise. What brings you here?” Catalina watches as she bats her eyes. It is easy to see the interest with every light touch of her hand, her easy laugh.
“Sheilia,” Toran smiles, “It’s nice to see you once again.”
Another female spots the three of them and comes hurrying over. “Toran? I didn’t know you had returned.”
“Tarra,” his tone turns cooler, more subdued than the warmth with which he greeted Sheilia. “This is Catalina,” he gently grabs her upper arm and pulls her up to his side. “She will be staying on Curaz and needs to be assigned rooms.” Now he sounds all business, like the old Toran she’d met on the ship.
Tarra’s eyes flicker briefly to Catalina. “Very well, I am sure we will find something.” With a careless flick of her wrist, she dismiss
es Catalina and turns her body, giving Toran her undivided attention. She runs one long finger down his chest. “How long are you here for?”
“I am not.” He takes a short step back. “I must be leaving as soon as possible.” Turning to face Catalina, he smiles warmly. “I have to get back to my ship before the storm comes, but if you need anything, or you are unhappy here, get word to Jeat, and I will come back for you.”
Catalina gives a curt nod. “Okay. Thanks for everything, and tell Alan I said goodbye.”
“I will,” he smiles. “Take care, Catalina of Earth.”
Catalina stands watching Toran until he is out of sight.
“So, I guess he thinks you can give our males offspring…” Tarra says with disdain. “Well, I have news for you, we do not want you here, and no male will want to have offspring with…” her eyes scan the length of Catalina, “with someone who looks like you.” She turns on her heels and briskly walks away, leaving Catalina standing there feeling all alone and wondering what the hell is wrong with Tarra.
The one called Sheilia speaks up in a monotone. “I will show you where you can live.”
Catalina follows Sheilia with less enthusiasm. It feels like being back in foster care, having to put up with the other kids who don’t want to share their toys.
Her apartment has everything she could ever want. Sheilia shows her how to use the food replicator and something called a design-o-pad. Think four-dimensional printing, but much more sophisticated. A few long gowns are already hanging in the closet.
“If you need anything, just let someone know,” Sheilia says just before she turns around and hurries out the door. It hasn’t escaped Catalina’s notice that she said to let someone know, as in, not her.
After a good hot shower, Catalina braids her wet hair, slips into a sleeping gown, and tries to make a cup of coffee. Their version tastes more like chocolate tea, and it is barely drinkable. While she is sitting curled on the couch, a light knock sounds on the door.
Through a small opening, Catalina sees a female standing there looking nervously around. She opens the door to allow entrance. “Come in.” The female quickly steps inside, and Catalina quietly shuts the door behind her. “Can I help you with something?”
Theon Untamed_First Contact Page 5
