by Lili Zander
“You don’t have a human mate,” I snap. “The Draekons might be driven by biology, but humans aren’t. We have to choose our mates.” I glare at the two of them. “And the two of you are the last people I would have chosen.”
They saved you from the Dwals. They were up all night looking for Fluffy.
Cax gives me a long, steady look. “I understand,” he says. “You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear.” He reaches inside the skimmer and hoists my pack onto his shoulder. “Come. I’ll show you around.”
I get the distinct sense that I’ve hurt his feelings. I don’t care, I tell myself. But that’s not true. Whether I like it or not, I do care. And that’s a problem.
I miss my older brother desperately. Liam would have knocked some common sense into my head.
Cax’s place is beautiful. The walls are reddish-brown rock. The floor is stone too, with throw rugs scattered about. I can’t see any fixtures, and yet the place glows with warm light. There’s a kind of living room with a view of the falls—from behind, of course—and a deck built into the side of the mountain. It’s wild and unspoiled and secluded.
Cax shows me to a bedroom. Fluffy pads along behind us, her three tails swishing from side to side, and jumps promptly onto the bed. “The bath is through there,” he says, pointing to a door.
“Thanks. It’s a very luxurious prison.”
He grimaces. “I realize you hate me,” he says. “And I deserve it. But Bryce, could I have really allowed you to wander the planet with Hurux’s soldiers on the loose? What if you got caught?”
“What of it?”
He gives me an exasperated look. “You are a good person, Bryce MacFarland, and you think like one. But the men and women the High Empire sent to capture you are far more ruthless. If I were in their place, I’d hold a knife to your throat. I’d order the other human women to surrender or watch you die in front of their eyes.” He gives me a grim look. “If one of those soldiers held a knife to your throat and told me to drop the shields of my city, I would do it.”
Oh. Oh.
I hadn’t even considered that possibility. I hadn’t even thought that I might be used that way. No wonder Cax is irritated with me.
Liam was right; I am impulsive.
I don’t know how to react, but Cax doesn’t give me the chance to gather my thoughts. “I have to go into the city,” he says tersely. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
I soak in the bath for almost an hour, until I’m wrinkled and pruney. I dress in an old t-shirt, one of the items of clothing I brought from Earth. ‘Climb Every Mountain,’ it says in old, faded lettering.
For another hour, I sit in my room, absently petting the Fluff-face, and then I start to get bored. And hungry. There are field rations in my pack, but the dried fish jerky does not sound appetizing.
I wander to the main space. Hurux is there, sprawled on a low couch, sipping something from a glass. More of yesterday’s delicious liquor, maybe? I debate asking him for a glass of my own, but think better of it. I’ve barely eaten all day. That stuff will go straight to my head.
The Zorahn commander is shirtless. Booze goes straight to my hips, but clearly, Hurux doesn’t share the same problem.
You know how some guys are so muscled that it looks like they have boobs? Call me superficial, but that’s never turned me on. Not Hurux. This guy has perfect abs. A perfect chest. Not too muscled, but there’s not an ounce of spare fat anywhere. Drool-worthy.
He watches me as I make my way to the living area, his eyes lingering on my legs. I guess that’s fair. I got in plenty of ogling of my own yesterday, before I realized they were jerks.
“Drink?”
“No thanks.” I cross the room and sit on the couch opposite him, staring at the waterfall, letting the sound of its muted roar go through me.
Hurux breaks the silence first. “Last night,” he says, his eyes holding mine. They’re green, a mossy green that reminds me of spring in Vermont, of the promise of new growth and renewal. “You said that on a different day, you would have argued with us. On a different day. What did you mean by that?”
My insides clench. His question is a little too perceptive. I’d prefer to think of Hurux as the bad alien enemy soldier that’s going to ruin my life. Finding out that he has layers will just make me even more confused. Will just complicate things.
“Yesterday was the anniversary of my older brother Liam’s death. He killed himself last year.” I poke that wound, hoping the pain will flood clarity into my mind.
Hurux watches me. “I’m sorry.”
“Do the Zorahn kill themselves? Is suicide a thing?”
“All sentient species feel despair,” he replies. “Yes, it happens.”
So much for technological superiority. So much for being the kind of medical geniuses that can cure leukemia at the drop of a hat.
“How did it happen?”
So many people act like suicide is a giant stigma. The thing you cannot talk about. Back in Killington, my friends had pretended it hadn’t happened.
It’s not really their fault. People don’t like confronting their own mortality.
But Hurux is asking me about it. I guess as a soldier, he confronts his own mortality every single day.
“He got addicted to pain-killers,” I murmur. “Bounced from job to job. For years, I begged him to go to rehab.” I think back to that fateful day. “I’d just finished serving breakfast at my inn. Liam dropped by. He wanted to borrow some money from me.”
I don’t like thinking about the past. I’ve never discussed this with anyone. My own guilt, my own complicity. “I turned him down. Told him that I couldn’t condone his drug use any longer. Told him to go to rehab.”
The little device in Hurux’s ears translates my words into Zor. Does he understand? Language is more than words. Language is concepts too. Do the Zorahn have drug problems? Can they overdose? There’s so much I don’t know.
“We got into a huge argument. He stormed out. He was found unresponsive that night. The doctors couldn’t bring him back.”
I’ll always remember the bite of winter in the air. The hard plastic of the ER seats. The blue neon of the hospital sign, reflecting on the snow.
“Is that why you left Earth?”
Once again, Hurux’s question takes me by surprise. “Yes.”
“Had I given him fifty bucks, maybe he’ll still be alive.” I exhale shakily, blinking the tears away. “I thought that if I went far enough away, I could outrun my guilt.”
He gives me a small smile. “It doesn’t work like that for Zorahn. I suspect it doesn’t work that way for humans either.”
“I just miss him, you know?” My voice is sad. “He was my big brother. We’d make bad jokes together. He was always there for me. I thought he could do no wrong.”
“I understand,” he says quietly. “I really do. Eventually, the pain loses its edges. The loss is always there, but in time, there’s room for other things too.”
Another silence falls between us. Once again, it’s Hurux that breaks it. “What did you do, back on Earth?”
“I ran a bed-and-breakfast.” He looks bewildered, and so I explain the concept to him. “In Killington. It’s a ski town. You strap on these long fiberglass boards to your feet, and you glide down a snow-covered mountain.”
He looks horrified. “As a training exercise?”
I start to giggle. I guess the Zorahn aren’t really into winter sports. “For fun. It’s such a rush.”
He doesn’t seem convinced. “What do you do for fun?” I ask him.
“Well…” His eyes trail a slow passage up my legs. I fight the urge to squirm under his perusal. My nipples harden under my t-shirt, and my skin breaks out into goosebumps.
Do something to break the spell, Bryce.
I clear my throat, and that does the trick. The energy forming between us drains away. Hurux shakes his head, looking dazed. “I’m a soldier,” he replies. “I go where the Empire sends me.
There’s not a lot of time for anything else.”
“Is that where you met Dariux? You mentioned last night that he used to be your boss.”
“No. I used to be a spy.”
That explains the perceptiveness. Hurux has been trained to listen. “What made you decide to be a soldier instead?”
His face darkens. “When Dariux and Zunix were exiled, it became obvious that the next Spymaster would be Ru’vi ab Crosu. She’s…” He hesitates. “Ru’vi has a cruel streak that doesn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want to work for someone like that.”
Exhaling in frustration, I stare at Hurux. I don’t get it. Not at all. “You seem like a decent guy. So what gives? As soon as your precious High Empire finds out that you’re Draekon, they will exile you. You’re defending someone that doesn’t have your back. Help me understand your reflexive loyalty.”
“Two Draekons attacked us a few days ago,” he says. “They were savage beasts, angry and out of control. They set our camp on fire. Destroyed one of our spaceships. Three soldiers were badly burned.” He takes a deep breath. “I understand why the High Empire would exile me, Bryce MacFarland. In their position, I would do exactly the same thing.”
A few days ago. Does he mean Rorix and Ferix? “Sofia’s mates? Is that who you’re talking about?”
He nods curtly. “I believe so, yes.”
All his earlier sympathy and niceness is gone. One mention of Draekons, and Hurux is back to being the perfect Zorahn soldier.
“You took Sofia prisoner. What did you expect to happen?”
“A rescue attempt, I would understand. This was not that. This was destruction, pure and simple.”
God, he’s so maddeningly stubborn. “You heard Cax. They were in the grip of a fever.” I glare at Hurux. “Beirax was one of the scientists sent to Earth. He was responsible for our crash. Rorix and Ferix were from the same clan.”
“House,” he corrects absently. “Or family. Clan is something different.”
I accept the correction; it shows that he’s listening. “House. They thought it would be dishonorable to court Sofia, given the circumstances. Because they were related to Beirax. That’s how they got the fever. They drove themselves to the point of madness because they were doing the right thing. The honorable thing.”
He processes my revelation. What conclusions he draws, I don’t know. Because I have a vein of stubbornness in me, I persist. “You think that being a Draekon is to be a mindless beast. But if that were true, why would Rorix and Ferix not claim their mate the moment they knew?” I will him to open his mind. To see the world through my eyes. “I’ve lived with the Draekons for six months. When we crashed, they helped us. They gave us food and shelter. Without them, we’d be dead.”
He doesn’t fall over himself to hold my hand and sing Kumbaya, but he doesn’t contradict me either. I choose to view that as progress. Rather than keep hammering away with my ‘Draekons are wonderful’ argument—hey, I can be subtle from time to time—I change the subject. “Your mother gave you blockers. Why?”
“My father tested positive,” he admits. “When I was a child. They came in the middle of the night and dragged him away.”
A parent separated by force from his child. Is there any reason that would justify it? I can’t understand such cruelty. My parents died in a car crash when I was twenty-two. Liam killed himself last year. Every day, I feel the hole left by their absence.
No wonder Hurux can relate to my emotions surrounding Liam’s death. He’s felt loss too.
I don’t know what to say, but before I can open my mouth, a chime sounds through the house.
We have a visitor.
10
Bryce
It’s an alien. A proper alien.
Not that the Draekons aren’t aliens, of course. In dragon-form, they’re pretty Not-Human. But in man-form, they don’t look that different from humans. Bigger. More muscles. A bronze tone on their skin that’s slightly metallic. But the broad details are the same. They have two arms and two feet, and their cocks look like cocks. Bigger and better cocks.
But the person who’s just entered is covered all over with red feathers. Its eyes are green and large. A long tail hangs down on the ground behind it.
Holy shit. It hits me right then with the force of a battering ram that I’m actually in space. I’m on a different planet, and this is a bona fide alien.
Hurux stiffens. The alien notices, and it’s tail lashes back and forth. “Relax, Commander Hurux,” it says in perfect English. “Commander Cax sent me.”
“What is an Adrashian techmage doing in the middle of the High Empire?”
“Former techmage,” the alien corrects. “I find politics more interesting than tools. I am Cax’s second-in-command. My name is Silu.”
Ah. Cax had mentioned Silu last night. I beam widely. Holy shit, I’m talking to an alien in English. This is so freaking cool. “Hello. It’s great to meet you.”
Silu smiles back—I think—showing an alarming number of pointed teeth. “You are definitely more polite than your mate.”
Hurux winces. “Please forgive me, Esteemed Techmage,” he says, sounding sincere. “I acted on instinct. The Adrashian techmages are not friends of the Zoraken.”
“No harm done,” she says, her feathers twitching. It’s fascinating to watch. “The concept of everyone living together in harmony is not one I expect a Zoraken to understand.”
Ouch. She’s certainly not pulling any punches.
She turns to me. “Commander Cax realized that he does not have any food for you and sent this.” She extends a toaster-sized box toward me. “It’s a syn, calibrated for Earth food.”
More junk food, yay.
Don’t get me wrong, I like fries as much as the next person, and God knows I appreciate the coffee Raiht’vi’s syn makes. It’s just that after a few months, I’m really tired of deep-fried food, and am ready to sell my soul for a head of broccoli. Or a good Vermont cheddar. Some of the others really like Raiht’vi’s syn—Harper was addicted to it during her pregnancy—but I much prefer the fruits and vegetables we’ve been able to find and grow on the prison planet. “Thank you.”
“It is the Commander who arranged it, not me. I am merely the messenger.” She sets the syn down. “The model that you use in the Southern Outpost is older, and the range of Earth food is quite limited. This should be better.”
Better as in more variety? If so, I’m on board. And if it makes beer, then I will revise my opinion of Cax. I’ve been doing my damn best to make a good ale, but though everyone’s very complimentary, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve failed far more often than I’ve succeeded. There are a lot of plants in this world, but nothing has been an effective substitute for hops.
“The Commander also thought that you might like to see your friend, Sofia Menendez,” Silu continues. “He has arranged for her to visit you tomorrow.”
Color me more confused than ever.
Pro: Cax and Hurux found Fluffy last night.
Con: Cax is holding Raiht’vi prisoner, and Hurux is determined to return her to High Emperor Lenox.
Pro: Hurux got me to talk about Liam, something nobody has managed in a year.
Pro: Cax was thoughtful enough to realize I’d want to talk to Sofia.
Con: Both of them are ready to send me back to Earth.
They’re your mates. They transformed into dragons when they saw you. Is that a pro or a con?
I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
Silu leaves. Hurux watches me with his too-perceptive eyes. “You know,” he remarks. “Cax is really trying to do the right thing. He’s been protecting you and your friends from my soldiers.”
“Has he?” I ask skeptically.
He nods. “Who do you think activated the shield that’s keeping out the Zoraken?” He shakes his head. “Yesterday, I was furious that he took away my ships, but you know why he did that? So that nobody could abduct you for the bounty.”
&
nbsp; “Why are you on his side? He’s Draekon too. Aren’t you supposed to hate him on principle?”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he breaks the silence. “Maybe you’re not the only one who’s confused.”
11
Cax
I gaze upon the damage to Nixmi Tower. “How long were the shields down again?”
Korum frowns. “Less than twenty minutes,” he says. “Seven light fighters got through.”
Ships carrying skrath. As much damage as the ships did, the skrath are the real danger. The energy seekers can shut our tech down.
“Have the skrath been rounded up?”
Korum nods. “Every single one of them has been reprogrammed.”
“Reprogrammed how?”
Korum grins widely. Most of the Adrashians are tech-inclined, and Korum in particular is, like Silu, a former techmage. Unlike Silu, he passionately enjoys technology. “I’ve written a nasty little virus that will trace the skrath signal back to its source,” he says. “The next time they drop skrath, they’ll regret it.”
“Good work.” I don’t think that the Navy will drop more skrath—if Ru’vi is in charge, she’ll never try the same attack twice—but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. “The injured have been healed?”
“Yes.” He sees someone behind me and stiffens. Duly warned, I brace myself and turn around. It’s the two Draekon senators. “Senator Ulle and Senator Sarfax. Good to see you.”
Sarfax nods in greeting, but Ulle, the bane of my existence, launches straight into attack mode. “Where were you yesterday, Commander Cax?” she demands. “We were attacked. People could have been killed, and when I asked Silu about your location, she was evasive.”
Ulle’s a pretty good actress, I’ll give her that. I’m almost certain that she’s the one who dropped the shield. I duck the question; I’m certainly not letting anyone know about Bryce. I won’t let her become a pawn at the hands of the Senate. “I’m glad to see that you are unharmed.”
