Part 1: The Encounter
Chapter 1
Talon Delkhari looked at the papers one last time and tried to discern what kind of woman he would be picking up from Earth in a few minutes. The Poker Games Limited, PGL for short, promised grandiose suspense until the last minute, and denied its participants any pictures of the female species that were being raffled off. The paying clientele – the masters of creation – received nothing other than a certificate of health, a declaration of age, and an exact determination of race. And that, Talon thought, as he adjusted his uniform absentmindedly, was precisely the draw – the appeal of this bold undertaking. It was not for a battle-hardened warrior like him. If he ever found a companion, the things he wished for more than anything, were reliability and healthy offspring. He silently cursed his king who had entrusted him with picking up his new bride and delivering her safely to Kanthari 7. Not only was it below a man of his caliber to have to take care of a woman who had been the prize in a round of interstellar poker, but it also cost him valuable time that he would rather have spent doing something more worthwhile… like hunting the space pirates who were getting more and more cocky, to the point that they wouldn’t even stop for a Kantharian ship anymore.
He should have just kept his mouth shut. Then he wouldn’t be in this situation, having to pick up a woman from Earth. Instead, he could be running drills with his men, fighting, or trying a new strategy in the fight against the buccaneers. When his king had asked him to analyze his – the king’s – tactics from the last campaign, Talon had not minced his words. Ferthoris III had the epithet “The Wise” in his title, but he hadn’t lived up to the supplemental name he had chosen for himself. He had made the mistakes of an absolute beginner, and it had cost him the lives of hundreds of his battle-hardened warriors. A very high price to pay just to satisfy the vanity of one man, who hadn’t the first clue about the high art of waging war.
When the waves had calmed a little after the disaster, the king had approached him, his most experienced fighter, and in a strange moment of self-awareness, had asked him for suggestions for improvement. Talon should have known that his ruler would not tolerate even the slightest criticism of himself and his glory, no matter how justified it was.
Talon was lucky that the king hadn’t beheaded him. He was sure that that had been his first impulse. Instead, Ferthoris had chosen a subtler form of punishment. He, the king’s underling, once a battle-tested warrior with the rank of general, had been named the king’s official bride collector. The Earthly woman was now the third female creature he was picking up from a strange planet, in as many years. A beheading might have been a better choice after all, Talon thought. The insatiable ruler of Kanthari 7 had made him his harem guard, and the proud soldier liked this about as much as he would have liked losing his manhood directly. Maybe it was time for a fight for supremacy. If he didn’t have such a strong sense of duty, and an aversion to the diplomatic responsibilities that came with being a king, he would have challenged Ferthoris twice already. Once for each bride he had delivered to the king’s bed.
Now the third woman was waiting for his arrival. He clenched his teeth and let out a dull growl. One look at the chronometer told him that she would be approaching the predetermined spot at any second now, assuming, of course, that she was punctual. Talon got up and checked to make sure that his laser pistol was loaded. The battery was fully charged and the beam intensity was set to medium. This would put any victim out of commission for a long time, rather than kill him or her. In his world, humans were considered unpredictable and emotional – surely a reason why Ferthoris had taken part in this absurd poker game to begin with. His women were all very tame creatures – subservient and always ready to feed his ego. The only one who had ever dared offer any resistance had had one tentacle removed for every defiant word. Talon shivered, partly because of his king’s senseless cruelty, and partly because of his preference for exotic female creatures. Women were to Ferthoris as scars were to Talon: trophies and accolades. With one difference. The king romped about in silk sheets while Talon made a name for himself on the battlefield. He shook his head. Tentacles! Really. Could it get any more absurd? The Kantharians were children of the sun and the desert, and as such, they never showed any desire to get involved with slimy fish women, at least not usually.
He looked at the chronometer again. Just then, his intercommunicative DIP that connected him with the entire crew, buzzed. His first officer’s face appeared on the armband Talon wore on his wrist.
“Sir, it is time,” the distorted voice crackled from the tiny loudspeaker. “The glider ship is ready for departure.” Talon looked in the mirror one last time. As a representative of the king, he needed to look flawless. His uniform fit him perfectly and his face showed nothing of the reluctance he felt. It wouldn’t make sense, and would be extremely unwise, to anger the woman whose future influence with the king he had no way of being able to gauge yet.
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