by Gemma Voss
The TinTac female shudders away from me, but the human male in an Alliance uniform beside her leans over the table to face me. “Get it together,” he snaps. “You’re not going anywhere and you’re not doing anything. This is an ongoing investigation, and we’ll tell you exactly what you need to know, when you need to know it. You are researchers now, not soldiers. You will stay at this facility and continue your work.”
“Continue?” I shout, incredulous. “Continue for what? Tell me, what use is there for developing a fertility booster for a species that is dead?”
“Kila, please,” Pakka hisses.
“Excuse him,” Kiva quickly insists. “He is experiencing heightened hormone levels due to the mating call.”
“You four would lie down and allow this spoiled, battle-shy sack of Earth shit to tell you what to do?” I turn to them, livid. “You hear of this Azza-born atrocity and agree to return to the laboratory and tinker with analyzers? You will have to carry me to the funeral pyre before you stop me from plotting vengeance.”
“Vala, Kiva— remove him,” Pakka barks.
Vala and Kiva round on me with grim expressions. I decide its best to allow them to escort me without fighting. There is no point in harming them, and Vala is larger and stronger than me all on his own. With Kiva at his side, they will pin me in a heartbeat. I simply glare at them, mutinous and ashamed. How is it they do not feel the frustration that pulses through me? How is that I am the only one trembling uncontrollably?
We head back to our living quarters. No words are shared among us. Kiva eyes my skin with interest, no doubt spying the undertone of red that gives away my mated status. They have not seen me since I fully succumbed to the call. Vala prepares a steaming tea and sets it out on the low table in the living area. A couple Earth hours pass before Mori and Pakka return to us. When they shuffle into the room, I can see the exhaustion in them.
“What more did they say?” I ask.
“The Azza have slaughtered every Mitskaa fog monster on the Mits planet. For this reason, they believe the existing supply of the weapon is low. They are not including us in their missions but will inform us if they make contact with any Kar’Kali. They used a human phrase… We are on a ‘need to know’ basis with them. As for the suppressors, they’ve asked a top Alliance chip surgeon to come here and spend some time working on a fix with us. They said it was the least they could do for our kind after this tragedy.” Pakka lowers himself into an open seat on the couch and rests his eyes.
“And then what?” I growl at him. “Tell me, what will we do then?”
“I don’t know, Kila. What do you wish me to say?” Pakka does not even look at me.
“Something! Anything!” I stare around at each of their faces. Still, they eye me like a rabid creature that stumbled from the wilds. “Is that it? Am I the only one here that will not accept that Azza has defeated us at last? Is this the end of the war for you? Are you not angry?”
“You know well that anger will not solve this matter,” Vala says.
I grit my teeth. “Do not,” I snarl, “say those words to me.”
“It is true,” Mori argues. “What do you accomplish with your outburst aside from causing us all a headache?”
“Do not upset him further,” Kiva whines. “This is the hormones speaking through Kila’s tongue. Perhaps Ella should be here. Her presence will calm him.”
“I disagree. She’s the reason he’s like this,” says Mori.
“Do not put the blame on Ella,” I say, turning to bare my teeth at him. “This is between us.”
Mori turns to Pakka. “Am I wrong? She is the cause of his insanity, is she not?”
“The mating call,” Pakka corrects. “Not the woman herself. All of us need to be patient and stay unified in this time. Kila, can you not wait and see what contact is to be made with our surviving people before you suggest some rash plan? Likely a suicide mission if I’m not mistaken? Do not take your feelings out on us. Are we not here enduring this together?”
I grimace. “I suppose you are right,” I begrudgingly mutter. The mention of Ella has cooled my spark of anger. I should never have expected them to understand my desire to scream and rant, after all. But Ella would. I want nothing more than to find my way back to her softly furnished apartment and bury my face in her naked chest. I have a feeling that she would let me show my rage. She would let me show all of myself, and she would listen without judgment.
“As for you,” Pakka nods his head towards Mori and Vala. “You must be a support for Kila in his time of need. It is not his fault. And just as his anger will not prove useful— neither will your antagonizing him.”
Mori and Vala shut their hanging mouths, and Pakka’s words seem to relax Kiva as well, who drops his shoulders and lets out a breath of relief.
Pakka stands and presses a hand to my shoulder. “We will throw ourselves into action. And before you know it, we will repair the suppressor and find some way to help our people and destroy the Azza.”
“And what if I don’t wish to repair my suppressor? Tell me, what will you do?” I stare at him straight on as I say it. As a youngling, we learned that every failure in battle can reveal a truth, a weakness, a detail for the strategic mind to capitalize on. Today I will capitalize on a morbid little fact. Everything I was before, everything I worked for, everything I built has been for nothing. There is nothing stopping me from walking away from it all for a single selfish motivation— to have Ella all to myself. There is no more Kar’Kali people except for us. And there will be no one to enforce exile on me now.
Surprise lights his eyes. When it fades, he looks disturbed. Disturbed by me, and the person I have become in a matter of days.
“Kila, we will make this right. You don’t know what you are saying now. I will see that you are returned to the true Kar’Kali way, and you will thank me for it. We cannot lose one more warrior. Not after losing everything.”
I feel very alone in this moment. I say nothing. Nothing I say will change Pakka’s mind, and in turn Pakka knows nothing he says will change mine. Back to strategy. I will wait until there is a new moment to capitalize on.
Chapter 17
ELLA
On Monday morning, I stop into Jen’s office.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Please tell me you went home and got some rest yesterday.”
“I did, thanks for asking,” she mutters as she leafs through a fat folder.
“That’s good.” Then, I stand there, waiting for her to be done with whatever she’s so intent on reading. After a couple minutes, she finally raises her head to blink at me.
“Well, what do you want?” she asks.
“Ummm….” I look around the room, as if the glass walls and shutters will clear up my confusion. “Do you have something for me to work on today? Should I ask Hassan if he needs help?”
She squeezes the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb. “Did that gray dick give you amnesia? Go to your lab!”
I sputter. “They’re working? Jen! Their entire race is dead! Doesn’t that merit a little vacation time?”
She closes the folder she’d been reviewing and lets out a heavy sigh. “They insisted. I asked them if they needed to decompress for a while and Pakka looked at me like I grew an extra head.”
I leave her be and make my way to the lab. If only I’d known that the Kar’Kali would be here today, I’d have come up with something to bring them. But then again, what kind of token or baked good could ever be appropriate for a time like this? The news cycle since Saturday evening has been non-stop discussion of the Kar’Kali genocide and its implications for the ongoing war in Sector 5. The only silver lining has been that the protesters outside the facility have dwindled, due to an outpouring of sympathy for the Kar’Kali and by association, support for the Alliance government in their fight against the Azza as well.
My pulse is leaping at the thought of seeing Kila. I long to see him, to talk to him, and ask how he is doing. Everything h
appened too fast when I dropped him off, and there was no way of getting in touch with him after the fact. The Kar’Kali were immediately swept away for a meeting with Alliance reps. I wanted to drag him away and be the one who would hold him through all the pain he was undoubtedly feeling. But maybe that’s not what he needs. That’s the human way.
I try my best to bite down my emotions before I push against the steel door and enter the lab. They are all gathered at the lab bench, quietly discussing something over a large sheet of paper.
When I see them all sat in line like this, the change in Kila is clearer than ever. His four companions are a silvery blue-gray, pale in the face, expressions hard like stone. Their eyes dart to my entrance and they nod politely or say hello quietly. Kila on the other hand, turns to me and his whole body goes rigid with attention. His black eyes widen just slightly, and a pained yet hopeful expression breaks across his features. He’s alive with healthy color beneath his stone skin. At least, it looks a healthy flush to my human eyes. Maybe the Kar’Kali don’t feel this way, because the others are eye-ing Kila like an escaped mental patient.
“Ella,” he breathes out. “You look well.”
Unsure how to act in front of his team, I move to his side and touch his hand gently. “Hi, Kila. How are you?” I glance at the others. “I don’t know what to say, guys. What can I do? How can I be there for you?”
“You are here,” Kiva points out obliviously.
“There is nothing to say,” Mori announces. “This is war. We continue until it is ended.”
I can tell by the way they do not look at one another that emotions are running high, no matter how much the Kar’Kali wish to ignore that fact. Kila takes the hand I’ve rested on him and squeezes it.
“Okay,” I say. “Then what do you need? Should I give you some space? Or do you have plans today?”
Pakka stands up and clears his throat. “Firstly, I should update you on our protocol. We are arriving early and leaving late to avoid encountering any female employees. We would ask that you procure our meals and drinks during work hours so that there is no chance of enacting a mating call in the hallways. Kila may assist you, seeing as he is… taken.”
“No problem,” I say, blushing at the hungry eyes Kila has for me upon the mention of his mated status.
“Secondly,” Pakka continues, “Our new project goal will be either repairing or replacing the suppressor chips, not only for ourselves but on behalf of any surviving Kar’Kali citizens that the Alliance is able to contact. Unfortunately, our quarantine will not make it easy for us to conduct any feasible research on Earth mating.”
I nod, trying to ignore the twisting in my stomach. If they fix the chips, then the Kila I know will be gone forever. Any chance we had at being something real? Toast. But you already knew that, I remind myself.
“Finally…” He hesitates with a flicker of his eyes toward Kila. “I will not allow Kila to leave this facility again. His actions have indicated to me that he is entirely too unpredictable in this mental state to be roaming the streets.”
My mouth drops open. For a moment, I think about giving him a piece of my mind. But then… Pakka is in charge here. I am on the clock. This is not my decision to make.
“I… I understand,” I say slowly.
“Perfect,” Pakka bobs his head, satisfied. “Let’s get started.”
As the morning inches along, Kila does not conceal his woeful stares in my direction. No one told me that I wasn’t allowed to talk to him, but our assigned tasks are strategically as far from one another as a person can get inside the laboratory. I’ve been asked to start price checking a list of equipment they will need to design their own chips, so I sit at my desk in the far-right corner. Kila is on the monitor that hooks up with the Alliance-wide research database, trying to determine if copies of the Kar’Kali schematics are available on the network. The station he needs is in a glass-walled high-security pod that is diagonally the most opposite end of the room. He glances up at me every once in a while, looking like a lost puppy.
I can’t fathom how much he’s hurting. I am so angry at his teammates on his behalf, it saps my focus. By the time I’ve completed a spreadsheet with some proper information, Kila has left the database research behind.
I print the info for Pakka and turn to join the rest of the team where they have gathered in front of their microwave (as I like to call it). As I cross the floor, they open the door and Kila gets inside.
“What’s this about?” I ask. Kila is wearing a disgruntled expression, and he resembles a child being forced into time out.
“We’re measuring his responses again,” Kiva explains. “When we originally captured hormone levels last week, his body had not fully entered the mating stage. We’ll need to know the full extent of the hormonal signatures in order to properly map a regulator for our new chips.”
“They enjoy putting me in a box,” Kila mutters. “I’m sure they’d like to keep me in here always like a little hopper.”
Kiva and Mori share a snicker, and I can only imagine that Kila means to say he is feeling like a circus monkey. We wait a while and then the panel board starts blinking. Pakka rushes to record some numbers and data that mean nothing to me.
“I think it’s obvious that I don’t really agree with what you’re doing,” I say slowly. They all turn to look at me. I swallow awkwardly. “I mean, that I don’t think it’s right for you to try and ‘fix’ Kila if he doesn’t want to be fixed.”
“Yes, and that is a matter of opinion,” Mori says with a shrug.
“What I’m getting to is… it’s against my personal feelings to help you design this thing. But I’d better be honest anyways. Besides, you’ll be helping others that do want a chip… And I have a little bit of a suggestion.” I fidget my fingers and exchange a glance with Kila. He nods, as if encouraging me to say what I need to say.
“Great Ka, then say it already,” Vala says.
“It’s just— you’re not going to get the highest levels like that,” I say.
Pakka shows me the results as if that means something to me. “Look at these. They are astronomical! What can you mean? Your presence here is likely helping us get the top levels, clearly.”
“His eyes go black when he’s… in some kind of… savage mode,” I tell them, my cheeks heating.
“I see,” Pakka murmurs.
“Go ahead in there and mate then,” Vala suggests.
“Excuse me?” I squeak.
“Is that not what you are referring to?” he asks. Kiva has paled in color. “The damage has been done hasn’t it? They’ve already mated, we all know this to be true. Why not send her in and have them mate inside for the data collection?”
Kila sits up on his knees and protests, “Yet you will not let me see her after hours? I cannot believe this.”
“Woah, woah,” I sputter. “Human women do not— I mean, I won— That is— It’s not happening.”
“Our former project was to use human subjects for a very similar process,” Mori argues. “How is this different?”
“Because I’m not signing up for it!” I snap. “I have to work with you guys every day, and you think I want to go in there and take my clothes off? No way. Not to mention the fact that I’m pissed at all of you. And I would just never agree to it, okay?”
“Leave her be. She does not wish to,” Kila adds.
“You don’t have to remove your clothes,” Vala offers.
“Just forget it,” I say. “He did it outside of that, anyways. He got that way when we heard the news about Kar’Kal. And a man tried to take me away from him. His eyes went all black then, too.”
“You know,” says Kiva, teal eyes sparking with excitement. “This must explain why the Archaic statues have shiny black stones for eyes. I once though it was an artistic choice, but it seems that they are depicted in this ‘savage state’, as you referred to it. It begs the question, would a male with colored eyes like myself also have them turn black? Someth
ing to think—”
“OUCH!” I scream, as I feel the tight pinch of Mori’s fingers on my upper arm.
Kila edges toward the glass and glares. “That is not amusing, Mori!”
He pinches me again, then takes me gently by the forearm and gives me a little shake. Kila begins to growl.
“Hey, hey,” I say angrily, and punch him hard in the arm. It turns out, Kar’Kali muscles don’t just look like they are cut from stone— they really feel like it too. I double over and clutch my fist against my chest. “Owww, goddamnit!”
“Oh, I apologize, Ella-vi. I did not think you’d hurt yourself trying to retaliate,” Mori says, but I still see a glimmer of amusement in his eye. I narrow my eyes and curl my lip at him.
“How dare you!” Kila shouts through the glass. He’s shuffled right up to the edge and rests his fists against the barrier. “I do not wish to destroy this box but I will if you touch her again.”
The panel is buzzing again and Pakka rushes forward to take down the new results.
“That is not okay,” I complain to them as I flex my sore fingers. “If you ever do get more human test subjects in here, we’re going to need to have a talk about appropriate conduct and acquiring consent for experimentation.”
Mori makes a noise of derision. “Perhaps, but the element of surprise can be quite useful for scientific findings.”
“You’ve had your fun, now let me out of here,” Kila demands. “Or I’ll break this Ka-forsaken box and spend the afternoon repairing it.”
They finally release Kila from the microwave and he strides over to me immediately. I’m pulled into the warmth of his chest as he embraces me.
“Are you all right?” he asks, leaning back to search my face, which is no doubt still pink from the suggestion that I get fucked in a glass box while four virgin scientists watch me.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, patting his shoulder. “More annoyed than anything.”
“We are going to procure lunch now,” Kila announces, bristling.
He stalks from the room, and I follow him. As he sweeps down the hall, I am half-jogging to keep up with him. “Kila,” I pant out, “Let’s stop and talk for a minute.”
