Chapter Two
Torg
I shrugged out of my kel, tossed it atop a pile, and sank onto the log bench in front of the fire. After a snowy trek to the meeting place, the blaze warmed my skin.
“Well, how did you do?” Darq asked.
I held up the small round chit I’d drawn from the barrel. “Number three!” I grinned.
“Excellent! You’ll get a good pick.”
“That’s what I figured.” I slipped the chit into my carry pouch for safekeeping. The fifty females arriving from a planet called Terra wouldn’t be enough for all the unmated men, so we’d held a lottery. The winners, announced yesterday, had drawn chits today to determine the order in which they would choose a female. Being third didn’t rate as good as first, but it was more than adequate.
“Have you decided what kind of female you want?” my brother asked.
I’d thought of little else on the way home. Before yesterday, with little hope of ever mating, I would gladly have accepted any female I could get. Today, with mating assured, I’d gotten picky. I wasn’t proud of it, but I couldn’t pretend the truth didn’t exist.
With so few females, we protected and cosseted the ones we had. They were all special, but given that mine would be an alien, she had to meet some specific requirements. “I need one who is stout and sturdy to weather our winter, whose strong body will produce many offspring, hopefully females.”
Darq nodded. “I think that’s what everyone would want. The situation is getting dire.”
“Our extinction is imminent if we can’t acquire mates. The first group of Earth females will be a trial. If it works, the council will arrange for more in exchange for the illuvian ore. The rock is useless to us, but the Terrans are quite interested in it.”
Darq snorted. “Crazy aliens.”
“Indeed.” Council members had joked that the Earth people had rocks for brains, and thought we were getting the better end of the deal, but only time—and female offspring—would prove if they were right.
A healer from the Earth ship had run tests and suggested our two species could reproduce. We had no means to verify that, only their word, but the council of tribal chiefs recognized the exchange program as a last-ditch effort to save our species.
Not everyone agreed, though. The exchange program had its detractors. Many opposed taking alien mates because future generations would be half-breeds, no longer fully Dakonian. Those who preferred survival over extinction, and who were unmated, had entered the lottery. By the luck of the draw, I was chosen, the only one of my tribe.
In my clan of two hundred twelve persons, we had only eighteen adult females and two children, both males, a scenario repeated in other tribes. With each subsequent generation, fewer children were born, and even fewer females. The residual effects of the virus that had arrived with the asteroid two centuries ago continued to plague us. Besides the larger problem of our impending extinction, a lack of mates made men aggressive and irritable. As clan chief, I spent way too much time arbitrating disputes and settling fights.
“Any more rumblings?” I asked.
Darq nodded. “From both sides. Some are appalled you’re taking an alien; others are jealous. Mostly the latter.” He twisted his mouth wryly. “I wish I could have gotten a female, but the contest was fair.”
Though no one dared to say anything to my face, rumors had spread that I’d been selected for a female because I was chief. Not true. Everyone had had the same chance. At night, I burned with a relentless longing and lust, so I empathized with the feelings of those who’d drawn blanks. But none of them would refuse the opportunity, and I wouldn’t either, even if refusal would quell resentment.
I’d been there when the Terran delegation of four males and three females had landed more than four solar rotations ago. We Dakonians were tall, muscular, and strong—even our females. We had to be to survive the harsh climate. Judging from the delegation, Earth people came in a range of sizes. One of the females had been downright puny, child-sized. She wouldn’t last a day, let alone a twelve-month winter. Fortunately, they all had dark hair and eyes as we did, so any offspring produced wouldn’t look odd. Any female would be a benefit, but I hoped for a strong one. Lottery winners would choose their female in order of their chit. With number three, I stood a good chance of getting what I wanted.
“Why do Terrans think so little of their women they would send them away?” Darq asked.
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Because we had so few, we treasured our women, protected them, honored them. “But their stupidity is our gain.”
I glanced around the dwelling I shared with Darq, trying to view it as an outsider. Would it please my mate? While the snow fell and the wind howled, a roaring fire kept the cave warm and toasty. Wood smoke traveled upward to escape through a hole in the ceiling, scenting the air. Firelight danced on the walls in an ever-shifting artistic display. Kel-hide rugs softened the hard-packed dirt floor. Stacks of hides became comfortable beds. I eyed the pile where I slept. I would have to move it to one of the other chambers to provide my female and I some privacy. It would be cooler, but we would cuddle under the furry hides, and I would keep her warm. Anticipation suffused my body. For the first time in my thirty-four solar rotations, I would have a mate.
“I hope my female will be pleased with her new home.”
“How could she not be?” Darq replied. “You’re clan chief. You have the largest cave with many rooms, an abundance of kel blankets and rugs. She’ll want for nothing.” He pointed to the cooking crocks, the pottery, the stone tools. “What more could a female desire?”
I didn’t know—that was the problem. Due to the shortage of females, women could have their pick of mates, and unattached males competed for their attention. Females didn’t have to settle. Even being tribal chief hadn’t granted me enough of an advantage in the mating pool to attract one—except for Icha, whom I’d never desired. Her sharp personality prompted me to put distance—a lot of distance—between us. I’d tried to let her down easy, but she’d taken it hard when I’d refused her advances.
I surveyed my home. What more could I do to welcome her? “Tomorrow I shall hunt a kel so she’ll have fresh meat when she arrives.”
Family units shared dwellings, so Darq and I lived in the cave together. In addition, all day long, people of my clan came to me with their problems, their disputes. They sought my advice, my mediation. Other chiefs visited to discuss issues of mutual concern. I was surrounded by people, but in the deepest part of the night, loneliness howled like the wind. Yes, we needed to produce progeny so our people continued, but I longed for a female for personal reasons, too.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” I asked.
“Only you would worry so much. Everything will be fine. The day after tomorrow, you will retrieve her, and you’ll see.”
* * * *
“He stole my female!” Armax shouted.
“I did not,” Yorgav denied. “She came willingly. She preferred me to you.”
“Liar!”
It took two of my stoutest men to stop them from pummeling each other.
If Armax and Yorgav hadn’t bloodied each other already, I would have throttled them myself. I checked the sun’s faint glow through the cloud cover. By now, the ship had landed; at this moment, the females were probably disembarking. I should be at the meeting place, but instead, I’d been forced to mediate the dispute between these two. This demonstrated another reason why the exchange program mattered so much. Fighting over females caused more discord than everything else combined. If we had more women, this wouldn’t be a problem.
I didn’t have time for this today. “Ward them both!”
“But—but…” Both men sputtered.
“Silence!”
Rarely did I consign anyone to the holding caves isolated from the rest of the clan. Disagreements could usually be talked out, but they had picked the wrong day to try my patience. Now I was late; I wouldn’t get third pick. Perhaps if Armax and Yorgav chopped firewood for the rest of the clan and slept on the stony ground with a thin kel hide as a covering, they would think twice about fighting in the future.
Protesting, the two men were led away.
“How long do you intend to ward them?” Darq asked. He would keep an eye on matters in my absence.
“Haven’t decided yet.” Anger burned in the pit of my stomach. I yanked on a heavy coat, snapped the hood over my head then shoved some mittens into the pocket. The coat’s outside had been rubbed with kel fat to make it impervious to water, and fur lined the inside. Thankfully, the kel had been one of the animals that had survived the asteroid strike that plunged our planet into winter. Without them, we would have perished. It could still happen if the exchange didn’t pan out, if their females could not produce children.
Darq slapped me on the back. “Speed be with you, brother.” He understood the stakes.
Fresh snow had fallen overnight, enough to reach the tops of my knee-high boots. I set off at a brisk pace, packing the snow with a heavy stomp. On the return trip, we would walk in the impressions. The woods were still and quiet, my breath, the only sound. My exhalations fogged the air.
As anger dissipated, excitement grew. I’d been wrong to focus on specific requirements. Truth: I would welcome any female who would be mine. I couldn’t wait to meet her, the future mother of my daughters and sons, my fireside companion. I expected an adjustment period. We were strangers to one another after all, but I imagined her anticipation to be as great as my own. Why else would she have left her planet to travel among the stars to a new and frozen world?
Soon. Soon. Soon. Soon. The hopeful word repeated in my mind with every step.