by Loki Renard
“But they welcomed me.” It’s sort of true. “They want me to live with them.”
“Out of the question.”
“No, you’re not listening!” I exclaim. “I want to stay here. I want to live here.”
The Patron shakes his head. “That is a ridiculous proposition.”
“It’s not. They’re people, just like us.”
“They’re savages,” he corrects me. “Primitives. They have more in common with an amoeba than they do with you.”
“That’s not true...”
He’s not listening.
“You will go on trial, and this time I will not protect you, Tselia. This time you will pay for what you’ve done.”
I knew I would hear those words one day. I knew this would happen. It does not make it any less awful.
I look at Zion, frozen in time, held in thrall by the lights that flicker at a frequency designed to make the human brain shut down. He will not know me after tonight. It will be like I never existed at all. That is the only mercy in all of this. He will not suffer. I will pay for every bit of pleasure he gave me many times over, but he will remain here unaware that he ever had a star girl to love.
“Come, Tselia.”
The Patron expects me to follow him up into the ship. He doesn’t expect resistance, but I have learned from Zion, and I have learned from Tyna. I know that passive disobedience does not work. If one is to rebel, one must do it forcefully.
There is a soldier near me, holding a weapon. He doesn’t expect me to resist either. None of them do. Resistance is futile, after all. Nobody resists the Patron. Until now. A quick yank and the soldier is no longer holding the weapon. I am. In an instant, twenty-three other weapons are pointed at me. It doesn’t matter. I point the gun at the Patron. He’s the one they’re trying to protect.
“Tselia! What are you doing!” His dramatic gasp is almost funny.
“I’m staying here. Turn the lights off. Let their minds go.”
“Tselia...”
I don’t have the patience for this. I lift the weapon and I aim it at the bottom of the craft, where the light emitters are. A single shot knocks out the bulb and in an instant, the tribe is free.
They are not pleased to find the Patron and his soldiers in their wake. Shock gives way quickly to aggression, but they know what guns are and they are not so stupid as to throw themselves into weapon fire. Zion, ever the natural leader, steps forward as the others cautiously retreat.
“Zion, meet my father. The Patron. He’s here to take me away.”
“No.”
The word leaves Zion’s lips heavy and definite.
“Well, that’s what I said, but he didn’t agree.”
The Patron’s rage is growing. “Tselia! Put that gun down and come here instantly.”
“So you can turn me into an ice block? No, thank you.”
“Tselia! Obey me this instant!”
“She never obeys,” Zion says. “You must know that.”
I thought they would all run screaming when they found themselves suddenly invaded. Instead they are composed. Especially Zion. The man who barely spoke two words to me when we met is engaging the Patron in conversation. This won’t end well, but it is brave of him.
“Oh, I know that!” the Patron snorts. “She hasn’t done a thing she was told since she was... I don’t even know how old.”
“Frustrating,” Zion notes.
“Incredibly.” The Patron glowers at me, then turns his attention back to Zion. “And I suppose I have you to thank for finding her here like this?”
“Alive? Yes.”
Zion may be a simple savage, but he speaks the language of power, and that does not change across centuries or even millennia. I am impressed. The last thing I expected my savage lover to be was a diplomat.
“I want to stay here, Patron,” I repeat myself. “I want to live with Zion and the others. I have a home here.”
“You have responsibilities to our world. To our people. You have crimes to answer for. You must pay, Tselia.”
“She will live with us in these simple homes. She will never travel the skies again. She will eat animal flesh, she will work the soil, and she will be subject to our laws and customs. What punishment can be worse?”
“You make a fine point, but she wants those things. Ergo, not much of a punishment,” the Patron points out.
“She wants those things more than she wants to be frozen. Do you intend to spend the rest of your life watching her, wondering, when she is thawed and allowed to roam, what she will do next? Or do you want her here, safe on this planet without access to your star houses?”
“Star houses,” the Patron snorts. “You have a point, Mr. Zion. There is much less potential for chaos with her here than anywhere else.”
“You will always know where she is. You can come and see her any time. And our progeny.”
“Prog...” The Patron’s jaw drops. “There are progeny?”
“There will be. Think, star walker. The daughters of your daughter will one day walk on this planet and make this world their own. Your lineage will be one with this world.”
My father stares at Zion, his gaze furious. “You have defiled her, beast? Is that what you are telling me? You think I need your bloodlines?”
* * *
Zion
So this is the Patron my Tselia is so afraid of. I am not impressed. He is old. He is degenerate. I can see it in his eyes. I regret every word I ever said in his defense, and I see why Tselia is the way she is. He appears out of thin air and he uses warriors to intimidate our people, and he demands her life.
“My lineage is already spread across the stars. All people are my people,” he declares proudly.
“We are older than you and yours. We have taken your daughter into our tribe. She has become one of us. If you take her now, you will gain nothing, and lose everything.”
“You’re persuasive, Mr. Zion,” the Patron says. “But I didn’t come all this way to leave my progeny here.”
“You came all this way to ensure that your daughter was alive and well and taken care of. You came to ensure justice would be done. She is and it will be. So please. Go in peace.”
The Patron smirks unpleasantly. “You speak as if you have the right to order me about, savage. You are nothing but an animal. Tselia will be punished according to our laws and you will forget about her.”
“No!” Tselia shouts. “I’m not going back. I’m not going to be punished. I’m not going into the ice. I’m not!”
“Tselia, you have no choice,” the Patron sighs. “I am tired of this charade. You have made these primitives as argumentative as you. They are forever tainted thanks to your interference.”
“I have choice. I have the gun. And that means I have the choice.”
“There is one of you, and many more of my men. Stop this, Tselia. Before I have to hurt these people.”
“You touch a single one of them and I will end you,” she bites out. She is fierce, my little star girl, and I can see she means it. The Patron cannot. He sees nothing but his own arrogance. The danger has reached its peak and this can only go one way. We all know it. Our people hold position, some stunned, others managing their aggressive impulses with the true discipline of the warrior. This is not the time for brutal conflict. We have women and offspring nearby.
Unfortunately, one of our number does not have the patience or the sense to stay silent. Her fiery temper ignites. With a shrill cry, Tyna rushes forward. Her face is painted, her breasts are bare, her skirt flies about her waist as she aims her spear at the throat of the man with a fearsome cry.
“Death to the star walkers!”
A single shot is fired from one of the star guard. Tyna collapses to the ground, as insensate as I was the first time Tselia used her little device on me. We can see she is still breathing, but is otherwise completely incapacitated. A few of the huntresses retrieve her as quietly as possible as the Patron looks over us with triumph.
“Anybody else care to initiate an attack?” the Patron smirks.
“You’re such an asshole,” Tselia growls. “But I won’t let you hurt these people. I’ll go back with you.”
“You’re coming to your senses. Good. Let us be gone,” the Patron snaps.
“What?” I wrap my hand around her arm and shake my head. “You are not going anywhere, girl. You are mine.”
“I’m sorry, Zion, but I have to go.” Tselia’s eyes fill with tears. “I can’t let any more suffering happen on my account. You deserve better than me, better than our people. Tyna was right to try to shoot me down. We bring only pain. We’re terrible people and our bloodlines don’t deserve to mingle with yours. Please...” She takes a breath. “Teach your progeny never to become as we are. The stars are not worth it when you destroy the things that make you human to get there.”
“Such dramatics!” the Patron scowls. “How could you say such things, Tselia! You have been given a life like no other! You have the wonders of all the universe at your fingertips.”
“...but all I want is a home and a family.” She begins to sob in my arms, her face pressed against my chest. “All I want is to have the man I love’s babies, and to see them grow happy and healthy.”
“You never mentioned anything of the sort before,” the Patron says. He seems utterly confused.
“I was the Patron’s daughter! I knew what was expected of me. You didn’t want me to be a mindless breeder, as you so often said. You wanted me to be an explorer. So I became one. Everything I’ve ever ruined, I ruined because I wanted what I finally found here. But it’s not worth their suffering, so I will leave now. You can put me in stasis. I don’t care. I welcome the cold. I will never feel as warm as I do in his arms anyway.”
Her emotional plea is heartfelt and heartbreaking. Her sobs come from the very core of her as she holds me so tight there is no way she will ever be pried from me—even if I were to let her go, which I never would.
The Patron’s stern visage begins to break down. He makes a waving gesture to his guard. “Go get the ship ready for the stars,” he says. “I will speak privately with my daughter.”
The heavily armed guards retreat, leaving the old man standing alone. He steps down from the ramp and puts his feet on our soil.
“Is this how you have lived? Not proud of yourself and your achievements, but craving a life other than what I have given you?”
Tselia nods mutely.
“Then I am sorry,” he says heavily. “I thought you were suited for this.”
“I have always been a disappointment,” she says. “I know that. I was born the wrong sex. I was never obedient. I failed classes, and now here I am not living up to your expectations again.”
“That is not what I am saying,” he says with a father’s gentleness. “You were always so wild. I thought you would be suited to a life among the stars. But now you tell me that you want to stay here, in a place where the houses are made of mud...” He shakes his head. “You know if you stay here, you will no longer be protected by our technology. You will likely sicken and eventually pass on. Choosing to stay here is choosing a life of pain.”
“But it’s a real life,” she says. “Yes, people get sick and hurt and they die, but before they do, they live real lives. They find mates. They bear offspring, they...”
“You really want that for yourself? You really want your belly to grow so large you can barely walk, and a screaming little creature to emerge from it? You want to feed it with your body? And forever be tied to its fate?” The Patron sounds equal measures dismayed, disgusted, and sad.
“I want to have this existence,” she says. “The one I was born to have. And I want to have it with the man I love. He has shown me so many things. He has given me his protection. He is the only reason I am still alive. If it wasn’t for Zion, I would have died long ago.”
“We saw what was happening before we landed,” the Patron says, brushing her words off again. “You were being publicly beaten and defiled. Are you telling me that is the life you choose?”
Tselia’s face grows bright red. “It is their way, Patron. And their way ensures order. It is not done to hurt me. It is done to teach me. And others. It might seem brutal, but at least it is over in a matter of hours. They do not have the luxury of being able to freeze troublemakers away forever.”
“Well,” the Patron admits. “I suppose that makes a certain amount of logical sense.”
“I do not do anything to hurt her,” I interject. This is a conversation between Tselia and her father, but some explanations are needed. “You know she is spirited. Sometimes she puts herself in danger. I make sure she does not repeat the same mistake twice.”
“If only our people could do that,” the Patron snorts. “Perhaps we should learn from you.”
He turns his attention back to Tselia. “If I let you stay,” he says, his voice low and confidential, “this can never be spoken of again. I must list you as lost. I must report this planet as uninhabited.”
“You won’t do that. You never break the rules,” she sniffs. “Ever.”
“I will this once. For you, and your happiness.” He reaches out and touches her shoulder. “Have your babies, Tselia. Take your mate and build the life and love you crave. And perhaps, many years from now, remember me fondly. It’s clear to me that have failed you in so many ways, but I hope this time, I will not.”
Hearing him speak so lovingly, Tselia pulls herself from me and wraps her arms around her father. “Thank you, thank you so much,” she gasps with pure joy. “You have no idea what this means.”
“Oh, I know,” he says. He lifts his eyes to me. “And you. You take care of her. She was my prize, and now she is yours. She is precious, this one.”
“You have my word.”
* * *
Tselia
I cannot believe this. At the very moment I was prepared to sacrifice my happiness forever, it was granted to me. My father finally understands me, at least enough to see what I need.
He has not always been a good father. I have certainly not been a good daughter. But maybe this is enough. Maybe these moments between us, fleeting as they are, make up for all the bitterness that has gone before.
“I will be watching over you, Tselia, and all those you create,” he says, squeezing me. “I cannot stay now. I must report your loss. But I will leave you equipment to contact me with, and a shuttle, and...”
“No.”
“No?”
“I would love that. I truly would, but it would change this world,” I explain. “And you’re right, I have changed it enough. Let me live as they do. I will renounce the stars to have the earth.”
My father looks at me with respect. It’s not an emotion I have often seen in his eyes, but it is clear now. He loves me, and he admires me, and I feel his approval like a warmth in my chest, setting my old fears free.
“You are more than either of us knew you were. Braver. Stronger. I wish you well, Tselia. My love is with you.”
He releases me and steps away. Zion’s arms encircle me, comforting me as my father retreats into his powerful star vessel. I am giving up everything for this life, and I am doing it gladly.
My father leaves just as he arrived, in an instant. To our eyes, the ship simply flashes out of existence. I know from his perspective Hades Exile is already a dot in the distance, a pinprick of life and light.
In the aftermath of his invasion, I fall into Zion’s embrace and sob against his chest. I am happy. I am sad. I am everything all at once. I will never have to fear the Patron again. No more nights spend wondering if he will come to take me. I can finally allow myself to accept that this world is my home, and to enjoy the permanence of that fact.
“I will make you happy,” Zion promises me, kissing the top of my head. “You will not regret this choice, my sweet star girl.”
He is right. I will never regret it. I will never feel sorrow for having chosen to live a real life rathe
r than to have watched others live theirs out. I may pass long before my father, but a long life is meaningless if there is no connection. Zion and I are one heart, one breath, one body and we will be forever more.
Epilogue
Patron
Two hundred years later...
“Patron! We have astounding news.” An underling comes scuttling into my chambers, clutching one of the damnable data panels they love to carry these days. “A colony has been discovered on Hades Exile. They are human! And they share a mixture of ancestral and modern DNA!” He looks at me with wide eyes.
“Oh?” It is difficult to make the effort of pretending to be surprised. I am old now, and I know very well those who live on Hades Exile. Six generations have passed since my daughter and her mate began to procreate. Now there are more than forty thousand descendants with her genetic material—and mine.
She and her love lived a long life, and a happy one. They left a legacy that is unique in all the universe. I watched from afar as her family and her joy grew. I watched the mate she chose protect her in all things. I watched her live fully, without fear, and I watched her love completely.
I failed my child in her youth. I thought I knew what was best for her. I thought our world, our ways were the only acceptable ones. But she showed me otherwise. She lived a life of her choosing and in the end I was glad for it, and for her.
“Shall we retrieve them?” The underling interrupts my thoughts.
“Absolutely not!” I lean forward, my feeble frame shaking with rage at the idea. “I forbid any contact with that offshoot of our species. Anyone attempting it will be put into long term stasis in the least reliable pods we have. You will take that information, you will classify it at the highest levels, and you will forget you ever saw it, do you understand?”
The underling gulps and nods hurriedly. “Y-yes, Patron.”
I sit back in my chair. One day, when it is time and I am close to the end, I will walk the hills of Hades Exile, and I will lie my bones down with those of my descendants. Her determination and spirit live on in those who never knew her, but bear her genes. They are turning their world into a paradise. In leaving our society and taking a great leap back into the raw instincts of our humanity, Tselia gave new light to our species, and it will never be extinguished.
