TAUSHEN

Vektal says no more about the sleepers as one by one, each pod’s lid is pried off and the occupant revealed. He remains silent about them even as the group disperses, exploring the ship and making camp. There’s not enough room for everyone to stay inside the strange cave-ship—and I suspect that many are uneasy at doing so. I do not blame them. I still do not sleep well most nights, imagining that one of the strange, orange-skinned aliens will appear and steal Brooke and the rest of my tribe away. I suspect that Rukh has the same thoughts I do, because we end up keeping watch silently together most nights, staring out into the snows.

The tribe sets up tents at the base of the ramp, and I watch, gritting my jaw when empty ones are set up and supplies placed inside. I do not have to ask who the empty tents are for. I can guess…and I do not like it.

I keep thinking of Brooke. Her ornate, pretty braids this day. Her laughing, playful expression as she speaks with Pashov or Vektal. I wonder if she will resonate to the gold, scaly male, or the beastly one. Or the two that are not quite human, but look human enough to my untrained eye. Or if she will resonate to no one, condemned to the same lonely fate I am.

None of these thoughts eases me. Surely Brooke is a female worthy of having a mate…and yet I do not wish for her to resonate to any of these males. Just the thought makes me grit my teeth and sets my tail to lashing. But would I not wish for her to be happy?

I think on this, and I have no answer.

A bonfire is built at the end of the ramp, amid the nest of tents, and tea is heated. A fresh kill is divided, raw, amongst the tribe, and Har-loh nibbles on trail rations while both Leezh and Brooke choose to eat their food as we do. I am oddly pleased to see how brave Brooke is in regard to her meal. I know of human females that still refuse to eat their meat raw, and they have been with us for many seasons. Brooke has only been here for one turn of the moon, and already she is working to fit in. She will be a good mate…to someone.

The thought makes my gut clench with jealousy once more.

As the tribe gathers, Vektal gets to his feet. The expression on his face is weary and he looks out at us, as if still weighing his decision up until this moment. His gaze rests heavy on Mardok for a long breath, and then he speaks. “You all know why we are here. And by now, you should know my decision. It is not an easy one to make, because I know that any change we bring changes everything for the entire tribe, not just one or two people. I have weighed this, and I have thought carefully about such things. I have spoken with my mate, and she agrees that we only have one choice we can make, as people. We must open the pods and welcome these strangers into our tribe.”

“You know how I feel about this,” Bek says, his voice flat. “I do not agree. I do not think we should put our mates and the tribe at risk for people we do not know.”

“I agree,” I say, getting to my feet. “You were not here when the strangers arrived. They had strong weapons. They took down our fiercest hunters with a mere flick of the wrist. We were lucky to escape them, and we should take this lesson we have learned and remember that not all people are friendly people.” I want to look in Brooke’s direction, but I dare not. “That they do not view us in the same light that we view them.”

“But how can we leave them as they are?” Zolaya shakes his head. “They are victims, too. Humans are never taken willingly from their world. To leave them trapped in this false sleep is unthinkable.”

“What if they are like Ell-ee?” Cashol says, and earns an angry glare from Bek. “Hear me out. What if they have been captive for so long they do not think like a human? What if they think more like those that arrived here to take captives? What do we do then?”

“The males look as if they would be dangerous, but we cannot free only the females,” Pashov adds in. “That is cruel and unfair as well.”

“There is no choice but one.” Vektal’s expression is firm. “Just because some of who have arrived here are enemies does not mean that all are enemies. Just because we have mates now does not mean that we cannot be kind to other newcomers who arrive here, stranded and taken from their homes.”

We have mates. His words echo bitterly in my mind. I am the only one here who has no one waiting at home for him. The only one whose khui is utterly silent. I glance over at Brooke, and she’s staring into the fire, her arms folded on her knees, her expression thoughtful. If she is pained by such words as I am, she does not show it.

“They are people,” Vektal continues. “And they need our help. We will not abandon them. We will wake them and help them survive.”

“What if they want to leave?” Ereven asks. “What if they wish to take the ship and return with it to the stars? And what if they lead others here?”

“We will never be safe,” says Bek, furious at the thought.

Vektal puts up his hands, indicating silence. “I understand your fears. Georgie and I have thought long and hard about this, trying to consider every angle. We will rescue these people, but they cannot leave.”

“How are we going to stop them?” Mardok asks. “If they know how to pilot a ship—”

“We are going to destroy the ship,” Vektal says in a firm voice. “That way no one can use it against us. No one can use it, no one can leave with it, and no one will be able to trace it here. We will burn it from the inside out, and then we will dump it into the great salt lake.”

Har-loh gasps.

Mardok is silent. He does not look pleased with this revelation, but when Farli reaches for his hand, he gives hers a squeeze. “It must be done,” he agrees. “If we are to be safe, we need to get rid of anyone else’s chance to leave. Anyone that goes back to the stars is sure to leave a trail behind them, and that trail leads back to us. Look at what happened to the old crew.” He chokes up a little.

“But…we’re going to let all of this go to waste? Think of what it could do for our people,” Har-loh says. “Think of the lives we could save. Think of the benefits—”

“I think of all of that,” Vektal tells her. “But then I think of the slavers. And I think perhaps we are safer without it.”

She nods, slowly, though it is easy to see the hurt in her eyes.

“Mardok, Har-loh, can you make this cave fly?” Vektal focuses on them. “We can take it to the great salt lake, wake our new tribesmates there, and then let the sands slowly cover it with time.”

“I can do you one better,” Mardok says, and grips Farli’s hand tightly in his own. “I can program the cursed thing to drive itself into the ocean for you, if you like.”

Har-loh looks at him, wringing her hands. “We’ll need a day or two to prepare, I think.”

Vektal nods. “Then it is decided. You will have your two days, and then we ensure no one comes to our world again.”