Lucinda

 

The valos took her down a different path, into the forest.

“I thought you wanted to be back at the city by nightfall,” Lucie said.

“We would, but you slowed us down,” Sarsen replied, his long legs covering ground at a pace she struggled to match.

She ached. Yesterday—or the day before, she lost track—had pushed her body to the limit, then she did it again. She was bruised and sore, cut up and covered in soot. Whatever healing salve the valos gave her worked wonders on her hands, but she opened the wounds climbing around the wreckage.

She searched for another radio, or the components to fix the busted radio back in the City in the Caldera. Her search turned up nothing. Maybe Amber might be able to fix it, but Lucie just didn’t have the skills. She could plug in new parts and fiddle with a dial, but that was her limit. She needed a working radio to find the other survivors and send a distress signal home. Assuming the ship hadn’t sent a signal as it entered the atmosphere.

The part of the Concord she had been confined to had been for medical research. The communication array wasn’t there. The best she could hope for was the comm system used by the prison guards, but all the equipment suffered damage from either the crash or the fire.

Repairing the radio she had waiting up the mountain was her best bet, even without a fresh supply of spare parts. The volcano city had been a strange blend of rough primitive and unexpected high-tech with the maglev. There must be something there she could use. Some forgotten tool or ancient component. Radio wasn’t even that advanced a technology. The first radio used crystals, and she had seen plenty of crystals in the vault.

Lucie adjusted her plan slightly: repair the radio, find the survivors, go home and scratch off some names on her list.

And keep her brother and his kids safe. She couldn’t forget that part.

Now she just needed to figure out if her valos would let her back in their city or if they planned to abandon her in the woods. Sarsen certainly acted like nothing would make him happier than leaving her to the elements.

Asche caught her staring daggers at Sarsen’s back. He nudged her with a shoulder. “He means well.”

“He doesn't like me.” Like that mattered. This was survival, not a popularity contest.

“He feels deeply,” Asche said in a quiet voice, like he divulged forbidden information. “We are all learning how to process.”

“You don’t need to make excuses for his bad behavior.” She had dealt with worse. She could deal with one moody alien.

The valos continued to wear nothing more than a loincloth. Ertale was a mountain of muscle. Each step was efficient motion and, frankly, mesmerizing to watch the muscle bunch and flex. With hard to describe skin, he was fire made flesh, contained in a shell. His mottled colors of gray and brown shifted as he moved and in the cracks she could see embers of yellow and orange.

Asche kept her pace, although it was clear she walked far slower than his normal pace. His dark skin was more gray in the sunlight than charcoal, but underneath, deep inside, he burned. There was no doubt in Lucie’s mind that he could be dangerous when the time came.

Sarsen, though, he was a work of terrifying beauty. Every inch of him designed for battle, decades of combat honed his athletic frame. While Ertale was large, like a tank, Sarsen was meant to be quicker, a blade to slice through the enemy lines. He moved with a feral grace. His mottled gray and brown skin shifted and flexed as he moved. The fire burned in him, though; came up through cracks and fissures, like a network of scars that never properly healed. A map of fire spread across his back, following the contours of his muscles, from his strong shoulders down to his trim hips. 

None of them could be mistaken for human. They were too large, their features too rough, but the view was intriguing.

Asche gave her another nudge with his shoulder, that toothy grin back.

“I’m not staring,” she muttered.

The forest cleared. A small collection of stone buildings huddled together. Years of neglect left obvious signs on the village. None of the buildings had roofs but the walls appear stable. Grass and weeds grew amongst the paving stones in the street. Vines climbed along walls and the side of the roofless buildings. No one had lived here for a very long time.

As they moved through the village, other signs of abuse became apparent. Stones were blackened from ancient fires and split from the heat. Furnishings inside were broken, but Lucie did not believe the damage was due to exposure to the elements. A bad thing had happened in this village. It had been attacked and never recovered. Either the people fled or there no one remained alive to flee.

Sarsen selected a building near the center. He checked first for any animal hiding inside. When she entered, she expected the room to be filled with skeletons.

Instead she found an empty room with a stone-lined fire pit in the center. The glowing stones from the city formed a solid line at the base of the wall, offering gentle illumination. It had no roof. That was okay, she liked the view of the two moons.

The valos got to work. Ertale started the fire. Asche set up a mat and blankets. Sarsen came in with a pail of clean water before vanishing again. Ertale heated the water with a touch—nifty trick—and motioned for Lucie to clean. With no sense of modesty, she peeled down the top of her jumpsuit and washed. There was no privacy in prison life. In the last four years, someone had always been there when she showered, dressed, or used the toilet. Even when she’d thought she was alone in solitary confinement, she was still observed via video.

She scrubbed at the soot on her hands. The bandages had fallen away a long time ago, and the grime mixed with the healing ointment. Now it was a sludge that refused to leave. Her disco inferno jumpsuit was ruined. No dry cleaner in the universe could get out the stench of smoke and death.

Sarsen came back with a small animal, already skinned.

She faced the fire, chest bare, with a cloth in one hand.

He stopped in his tracks, staring at her. Well, staring at her chest. His throat worked as he swallowed and he opened his mouth as if to speak.

She hiked the jumpsuit back up without a word. She refused to blush just because one rude alien had never seen boobs before. Still, she felt weird. Must be the grimy clothes against her clean skin, but there was nothing she could do about that short of stripping naked and handwashing the jumpsuit. Not going to happen. She’d worry about clean clothes once she could get her hands on soap. Rinsing with hot water was great and all, but she still felt dirty.

Sarsen roasted whatever the small creature had been. The sizzling meat smelled delicious. While it cooked, Asche fed her the fruit and berries he’d collected. He also added some herbs to the fire, which layered on a new level of irresistible to the cooking aromas. When the meat finished cooking, Ertale cut off a piece and handed it to her.

Hot fat dripped down her fingers but didn’t burn her. The meat tasted as good as it smelled. Better. She licked her fingers in satisfaction.

The valos watched her while she ate. It felt a little weird being the only one eating, but they got their nutrients from sunlight. Roasted bunny—or whatever it was—and berries didn’t do it for them. Sarsen glaring at her didn’t help, either.

“What happened here?” Lucie asked, holding the mug of hot tea. She blew to cool it down enough to drink.

“It was a long time ago,” Sarsen said, quickly to cut off any chance of a conversation.

Lucie was having none of that. “Look, I’m grateful for all your help today, but I can do without this attitude of yours.”

“I do not do this for your gratitude, human,” he said. Distaste dripped from every word.

Yeah, this stopped now. Lucie set the cup down carefully, because she was a fucking lady, dammit. “What the hell is your problem? I’m trying to make conversation, to get to know you, maybe even like you, but you keep throwing this attitude in my face.”

“My attitude is not the issue.”

“It so is!”

“Fine. You want to know what happened? Fine. This—” He slapped the ground. “—is Sonhadra. And I—” He slapped his chest. “—am of the fire tribe. Not a golem or whatever human word you used. My people lived here. My triad and mate lived here.” He moved to the nearest wall and gave it a hard slap. “Until the Creators came from the sky in a ship, just like you. They enslaved my tribe and made me a valo.” He spate out the word with disgust.

Just like you went unsaid, but the weight of the words still hit Lucie hard in the gut.

“Getting you to like me is not my priority,” he said.

Lucie sprang to her feet. Anger and fire churned in her belly. She stood directly in front of him, almost touching, her chin raised and fists clenched. “Then why are you here? You agreed to come. You could have told me to fuck off.” She was very tempted to tell him to do just that.

He growled before storming away. Lucie watched his form retreat into the dark until he was just a vague glowing outline in the distance. She wanted to hurl cruel words at his back, to snarl and let him know that she wasn’t scared of him.

“What the hell is his problem?” She thumped down to the mat.

Asche and Ertale exchanged a look.

“Just tell me,” she said. She was so tired of playing Twenty Questions.

Ertale patted the heartstone in his chest. It gleamed in the firelight.

“What does your heartstone have to do with it?”

Apparently she didn't understand what Ertale meant. He moved her to his lap like she weighed nothing, like a doll. He pressed her hand to his heartstone. It pulsed under her, matching the beat of her own heart. “Oh,” she whispered.

His arms circled around her, holding her in place but she didn't mind. Far from it.

Asche shifted forward, pressing the tea back into her hands. It was still warm. “Let me tell you the story of our people.”

The fire grew in height, casting shadows on the wall. Asche used his hands, manipulating material she could not see. A figure arose from the bed of coals, flat like paper puppets. It had joints that moved in a jolting manner, the shadows shifting on the wall.

“Once there were the people, and we were the only people on Sonhadra.” More figures joined the first. They were humanoid in shape but simplistic in design. “We were connected to the land and the elements. We had many tribes that spanned all of Sonhadra. Some were nomadic. Some, like the fire tribe, lived in villages.” Animal shapes joined the figures, they moved as if migrating until they came to a village similar in shape to where they were currently.

“One day there was a star in the sky. It burned all night and all day.” An indistinct shape appeared, casting a sinister shadow on the wall. “The Creators came from the stars in many ships. Sheenika—” A new figure appeared, tall and elegant. “—came to the fire tribe, which greeted her as a friend. Our people met Sheenika. At first, Sheenika was very interested in the tribe’s sun stones and accepted them in trade. She had technology that was like magic to us, and we were greedy.”

“What’s a sun stone?” Lucie asked. Ertale tapped the glowing stone in the wall.

Asche continued his story. “But the stones were not enough. She captured the unsuspecting one and two at a time.” The valos became surrounded by the bars of a cage. Lucie knew exactly what that felt like. “She experimented on us. Changed us.” The figure morphed from slender and nondescript to large and hulking. She recognized the armored form of Ertale.

“Is that you?” She turned to whisper quietly to the valo who held her. Ertale placed a single finger over her lips to silence her.

“Sheenika captured more of the tribe. Some lived but most did not survive the transformation. Those who left had new abilities.” Shadow puppet fireballs burst from the valo. “The Creator made us her slaves. She placed a device in our chests to control us. It hollowed out our outrage and fear and joy, and left nothing but the void. These are our heartstones.” The shape of the crystal appeared. “Then she took them away and tossed them into a pit, where we could never access them.”

“The vault.” Lucie pictured quite clearly the chute from the anvil into the vault, where the crystals were heaped on the floor in piles, tossed aside like garbage. “But why?”

Asche turned to face her, the puppets wavering for a moment, as his concentration slipped. “Because we were heartless beings. Because she gave us commands to follow, and we would never question, following the instructions to the letter if not the spirit. Because it took away our freedom.”

“But you rebelled, right? That’s why the city is empty? You drove her away.” Something happened. The awful Sheenika wasn’t still around. Of course, there weren’t a lot of valos around, either. Something happened and Lucie had the feeling it wasn’t good.

“She ordered us to construct the City in the Caldera. She ordered us to fight the other tribes, to capture them or slaughter them. She ordered us to battle the altered valos of the other Creators, to pit our fire against the radiance of light or air or water or stone. Even death.” The puppets enacted a brutal display of power against power. Finally the last image crumbled away. “Then one day she left.” Sheenika ascended back to the sky, leaving the Fire Valos puppets behind.

“Where did she go?” Lucie asked.

“Back to wherever the Creators came from. We waited and then we pushed the boundaries of our protocols, trying to find a way to rebel, no matter how small.”

“What are your protocols?” She dreaded hearing the answer. Nothing pleasant, she was sure.

“The main one is to renew in the Forge.” An image of the furnace and pool formed. “The fires in the pool renews us and keep us repaired.”

Huh. “How did she change you exactly?”

Asche shrugged one shoulder. “I do not know. With her technology.”

“But how? Robotics? Nanobots? Why do you have to renew? Do your parts wear out?” Were they cyborgs? Complex robots? Or was their DNA mutated, like the scientist on the Concord tried to do with certain prisoners.

“I cannot explain how it was done, but it was done,” he said, voice firm in a way she had never heard before.

She shrank back, pressing against Ertale’s chest. Right, she wasn’t an expert on every technology she used. She didn’t know how a spaceship worked, it just did. “Sorry. That’s sort of what I did on Earth, but with medicine. What happens if you don’t renew?”

“We grow cold. Several valo have chosen to resist the Forge and let themselves cool.”

“All those people—” The bodies in the Forge, cold as stone and seemingly just as dead.

“Yes. Then a new star fell from the sky.” A new ship appeared. It fragmented like a firework. “We followed one piece where it crashed in Sonhadra. We found you.” A new figure, this one with exaggerated feminine curves.

“You saw the crash?”

“We went to see if the Creators had returned.”

“Did you follow me the entire time?” Wait, she knew the answer to that. Ertale had tackled her at the river and protected her from that shrieking monster. “Never mind. Why didn’t you open the vault if you knew where it was?”

“Only the blood of the Creator could open it.”

Right. Good luck getting the selfish and cruel Sheenika to spill her own blood to open the door. Or any other Creator, for that matter. They didn’t seem like a nice people, what with the genocide and slavery.

“But it was human blood,” she said. Halliday’s, to be specific. Hers, too, a little. Her palms had been sliced open.

Another shrug of Asche’s shoulder. “I am convinced you are one of the Creators. Maybe a distant relative. You look similar, just small.”

“I am not small,” she protested.

Ertale patted her on the head, like she was being particularly cute.

“Stop that.” She ducked to avoid his condescending pats.

The puppets continued their story. The shadow-Lucie held up three stones, a swirling glow in the center of each. She gave the stones to the valos. “We are now one tribe,” Asche said.

“But that doesn’t explain anything. I mean, even if Sarsen felt obligated to help me, he could have stayed and sent you two.” The two she actually liked.

“Because we are one tribe.”

Ertale again pressed her hand to his heartstone.

“Yeah, this makes no sense to me. I understand I gave you the stones and all—that Sheena chick really did a number on you—but you saved my life. We’re even.”

The puppets vanished in a puff of smoke as Asche shifted towards her. He knelt directly in front, his knees pressed against her legs. He planted his hands on her thighs and leaned forward.

Hot anticipation tightened in her stomach as she was pressed against Ertale with Asche close enough to sense the heat radiating from his skin. The position was compromising and exciting, not a sensation she expected. She’d gone four long years without affection or even simple touch. Clearly her body craved contact and would gladly accept it from any source, even an alien.

Or two.

Wait, that had to be wrong. Two guys. Prison had warped her in unexpected ways, but Lucie couldn’t bring herself to be mortified at her desires. Two guys seemed right, especially if it were these two guys. She didn’t want to chose just one. Why should she?

Asche took her hand and placed it over his heartstone. It pulsed, matching the beats of her heart.

“We are one,” he said. He was so warm under her hand. Her fingers skated up his chest to trace the cords of his throat and then his jaw. His skin had an unexpected soft quality, like brushed suede. She half expected him to feel dry and brittle, like actual charcoal.

Smiling, all sharp teeth but endearing rather than terrifying, he reached for her hand and turned it palm up. “You gave us your blood when you gave us our heartstones and bound us together.”

Oh.

Oh.

 

Sarsen

 

Sarsen crouched just outside the hut, listening to Asche flirt shamelessly. His history of their people might have been factually accurate, but it skimmed over much suffering, all to play to the vanity of one human.

Human.

Ridiculous name for a species.

He had a list of questions he—they—needed Lucie to answer but Asche would never get to it. He was too busy showing off. Ertale, though, was practical enough to steer the conversation in the right direction. The silent male could be persistent when he wanted. Ertale also understood the need for security and the value of good information.

They needed to know where this Lucie Morales came from. “Earth” was not an answer. They needed to know why she had come to Sonhadra, how many people, with what intentions and how long they planned to stay.

Asche approached none of that in his storytelling.

Sarsen leaned against the hut, his back to the stone wall. Coming here was a mistake. He hoped to gain some information by returning Lucie to her ship, but they only found wreckage and human remains. He learned nothing except that the humans were vulnerable and if they were a threat, now was the time to remove them. Lucie had been unprepared for survival on a new planet. He assumed the other humans were equally ill-equipped.

They could be injured, as well. Lucie’s injuries attracted an ak’rena, according to Asche and Ertale. It was not a huge logical leap to assume the other humans attracted their share of predators. With luck, Sarsen would not need to remove the human threat after all.

His people were few in numbers now, but he would protect the remaining valos with all his strength. Even though Lucie opened the vault to the heartstones, he could not trust her. Refused to trust her. She withheld information. He could see it in her flat, dark human eyes.

“I’m not sure how we got here,” Lucie said.

Sarsen’s interest perked.

“I was in the lab… assisting a doctor.” He noted her reluctance to admit that piece of information. “Then we were tossed around. I hit my head, I think. When I woke up, there was a fire. We crashed. I don’t know how.”

“How far away is your Earth?” Asche asked, finally getting to the one task Sarsen assigned him.

“I don’t know. We didn’t intend to come here. There must have been an accident.”

“If you didn’t intend to come here, then what was your ship’s destination?”

“The ship—” Another pause. “—did research. Medical. I know what we found today was wreckage, but that wasn’t the entire ship. You saw it break apart in the atmosphere. Maybe some of it still works. Maybe they can fix it and get us home. I need to find them.”

“Is that your desire? To go home?”

Silence. The sounds of chirping insects and the crackling of the fire filled the night. “I’d like to try,” Lucie said.

She was crueler than Sheenika had ever been. She would spill her own blood and bind him and his brother to her and then leave. He could not bear another thousand years of loneliness; another millenia of fighting the urge to surrender and die, and searching for purpose. He would not be abandoned again by a selfish Creator.

Sheenika only took their free will and emotions. She did not make them feel and give them hope and make them desire and then act as if they were nothing to her, just inconsequential rubbish to be discarded when she grew bored and homesick.

Every hour of every day the memories and the emotions grew strong, burned hotter. Sarsen knew what it was to be a male and to burn with the desire to hold a female and claim her. He remembered his first mate, lost long ago. Time dulled grief, but he longed for that passion and sense of belonging again.

Lucie was part of him now. Her blood flowed in his body. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her.

He could make her understand that. Make her accept the claim she started to forge.

Or he could smother the fire in his heart and resist her temptation.