Chapter Seventeen
Date unknown
Time unknown
Ban-Hezikal, Kalar
PERHAPS IT WAS because she’d gotten used to switching between gravity and weightlessness, but the descent through Kalar’s atmosphere seemed to faze Svetlana less than it did the Kalarael around her. Strapped into a small, arrow-shaped shuttlecraft, Svetlana had found herself noticeably at ease even before the turbulence of atmospheric entry had begun.
Looking at Svetlana from the seat beside her, a yellow-eyed Yigôzien offered the faintest of sickly smiles. “Itsukae.”
“It’s okay,” Svetlana replied with a nod. And indeed, it was.
Despite every effort to crane her neck and see the planet surface outside the window, the nose-up angle at which the vessel was descending made getting a good view of it impossible. For what it was worth, the clouds she saw gliding by looked no different from those of Earth. With touchdown apparently imminent, she prepared herself for her first steps onto an alien world. What would she see? An expansive city, alight with neon colors and flying cars? A lush forest with exotic, bioluminescent flowers? A white, sandy beach and the gentle serenade of saltwater waves lapping against the shore?
A familiar cl-clunk emerged that was barely different from the sound of a Vulture landing. After the hum of engines faded, the side door finally lowered. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next. Set against the backdrop of the bluest of blue skies was an endless landscape of pink. Not slightly pink or with an occasional pinkish hue. The ground was pure, carnation pink. Pupils dilating at the vivid, pastel contrast of ground and sky, she found herself catching her breath.
Unstrapping from their seats, the Kalarael around Svetlana made their way through the door. Rising next to her, Yigôzien beckoned her to follow. Though Svetlana adhered to the request, it was an automatic gesture. Her eyes were glued to the pink landscape.
Too caught off guard to utter any meaningful, planet-side first words, Svetlana stared at the ground as she took step after careful step behind Yigôzien. The texture of the ground was nothing like dirt. It was more like hardened, pink plaster. Roughly fifty meters ahead was a collection of bullet-shaped buildings that seemed constructed out of adobe—the muddy tan a striking contrast to the pink ground around it. There were four buildings set two-by-two, interconnected by large, glass tubes that ran from one structure to the next. There was nothing else of distinction to be seen beyond mountain ranges far in the distance.
The air smelled like clay. A gentle breeze blew from the direction of the mountains—just enough to provide a kiss of coolness in otherwise warm weather. There were no creatures in the air or on the ground, no sounds beyond their footsteps and the strange spaciousness that came with walking across something like a mudflat. Not even the gravity was unusual by that point. Svetlana had long grown accustomed to the slight difference between Kalar’s gravity and Earth’s.
Looking back for Ed and Mishka, she saw that the canrassi was in the process of being unharnessed. The concern that Mishka would go on a flesh-eating rampage was diminishing by the hour, as the beast seemed to accept the Kalarael much as it’d come to accept her. As for Ed, he was marching several meters behind her.
When they approached the nearest of the four connected buildings, the outline of an arched door became visible. What is this place? A secluded research station? A military depot? Besides the glass tubes that connected one structure to the next, the buildings looked more like constructs out of ancient history than anything a spacefaring civilization would use. They seemed downright primitive. After placing her hand along the archway of the door to feel it, she followed her Kalarael companions inside.
The same natural-looking light that shone in the space station was shining in the building, distributed by numerous circular holes that were carved into the pristine, white walls. Besides the flicks of dried, pink earth that fell from their shoes, the floor was spotless.
A small, tube-like chamber was in the center of the building, complete with its own arched door. Svetlana assumed it was an elevator. The main room was sparsely populated; only a handful of Kalarael were present. Every pair of yellow eyes was on her.
Colorful benches were set about as well as lush, green vines that grew straight out of pots and spread their tendrils in every direction. Free-standing terminals with display screens were placed sporadically throughout the room. There was a fragrant aroma in the air. It smelled like the sweet scent of honeysuckle after a spring rain, with a touch of freshly cut grass. It was a welcomed change from the acetone stench of the Zone Runner.
Yigôzien gestured for Svetlana and Ed to follow her as she walked toward the elevator. Making a tsch-tsch sound to prompt Mishka to follow, Svetlana did as requested. She stepped inside the circular shaft, at which point Yigôzien placed her hand against a mounted display. After a chirp and a gentle hum, the elevator ascended. When its door opened again, she found herself staring ahead at a long corridor with walls that looked like polished marble. Down the hallway, another archway awaited. Following Yigôzien inside, Svetlana’s new abode came into view.
The place looked lavish. There were floating tables and benches, much as what she’d seen on the space station. There were stations set about with various monitors, tools, and other alien-looking doodads, none of which looked like they belonged in a bedroom so much as a science lab. Screens and monitors were everywhere, as were the same sprawling vines that were present in the lobby. Svetlana knew there would be a time for exploring everything in the suite, but for now, her priority was finding Tauthin and her Bakma comrades.
Sensing her intentions, Ed relayed, They are through that second archway.
The archway in question was along the far side of the domed suite, its white, featureless frame nearly indistinguishable from its surroundings. Why must everything be white in this place? She would have gladly taken a splash of those yellows and blues she’d seen in the space station. She had barely taken five steps toward the archway when Tauthin emerged from it.
“Setana!”
Behind her mask, she grinned from ear to ear. She tromped right across the room to embrace him, despite his rigidity at the human custom. “I am so glad to see you!”
Tauthin leaned back to look at her as behind him, Kraash-nagun and Wuteel emerged. His dark eyes narrowing, he touched her mask. “What is this device?”
“The Kalarael made it for me. It helps me to breathe,” she answered. Behind Tauthin, Kraash-nagun turned his head and walked away, disappearing beyond the archway into whatever other room they’d been given. The gesture struck her as cold. She smiled at Tauthin nonetheless. “Have they treated you well?”
“Yes, in light of your request that we be treated with kindness. It has been made clear to us that this is the only reason we are here and not in shackles.”
There was a tickle at the back of Svetlana’s mind. Ed was trying to get her attention. She turned to the alien, raising a brow.
Yigôzien wishes to speak with you, master.
“Can it wait for one moment while I talk to my friends?”
It involves all of you.
With a sigh, she said, “Then connect us all, if you can.” Strangely enough, the pinprick of a wide-area connection didn’t emerge. The vibe she was getting from Ed was one of hesitance. “What is it?”
The alien looked at the archway. I am sensing hostility from Kraash-nagun. It may not be wise to include him in this connection, as it may trigger a response from Yigôzien. The Kalarael are highly sensitive to emotion, as you and I are well aware.
Hostility at what? she thought back to him.
Hostility at you.
Well that was unwelcomed news. What was Kraash-nagun’s problem? Very well. Tell Yigôzien that you lack the ability to include everyone in the connection at present and that someone must be left out. That will explain his absence.
Tauthin, left out of the mental conversation but not oblivious to its presence, asked Svetlana, “Is something the matter?”
After waiting to ensure Kraash-nagun didn’t walk back into the room, she leaned her head in Tauthin’s direction. “Apparently, with Kraash-nagun.”
The Bakma’s knobby brow lowered. “Yes, that is something we must talk about. There are some things you need to know.”
“And there will be a time to hear them—very soon. But for now, Yigôzien would like to discuss something with us.” She looked back to Ed and nodded. “Connect the rest of us to Yigôzien.” The multidirectional pinprick of the wide-area connection emerged. Yigôzien’s blue eyes brightened. “You wish to speak with us?” Svetlana asked her.
“If it pleases you,” said the invoker, the delicate inflections of the Kalarael tongue translated in Svetlana’s mind. Yigôzien gestured to a circular table surrounded by square, floating seats. “We may sit there, if you wish.”
Svetlana sat as instructed. Whatever problem Kraash-nagun had, it was his to deal with. Jealous insolent. She chastised herself for the thought, not only because it might have been detected by Yigôzien, but because it just wasn’t a good one to have. That was the Nagogg in her speaking.
Your private thoughts have been hidden from her, Ed relayed, sensing Svetlana’s concern. Svetlana smiled sheepishly, but in appreciation.
When Svetlana and her comrades were seated at the table, Yigôzien began. “I am sure you must be wondering where we are.”
That she was. “Is this a research or military facility?”
“We call this place Ban-Hezikal. It is a rejuvenation clinic.”
She blinked. “A…what?”
“It is a place one comes to replenish the mind, soul, and body. You will find many luxuries here intended to please you. We have detected that you are allergic to none of them.”
A place to replenish the mind, soul, and body? Did they just deposit her at a spa? “I am sorry, I am confused. I assumed I would be taken to a research station or…” She tried to think of an equivalent. “Or some place kept hidden away.” She realized after she said it that among a society of creatures that hid nothing, such a place would have served little purpose.
“Your comfort is our highest priority,” Yigôzien answered, “so we thought this place would provide you with the opportunity to both refresh your body and attain the solitude your species requires. All of Ban-Hezikal’s other clients have been asked to leave. Only you, the staff, and those of us working directly with you are permitted on-site.”
Floored, all Svetlana could do was stare across the table. The Machine greeted aliens with the Walls of Mourning. Here, she’d been given a spa all to herself. “Do you still plan to take me to the Khuladi you have captured?”
Yigôzien dipped her head. “Yes. You will be taken soon to a facility where the captured aliens are kept.”
Eyes narrowing, Svetlana asked, “I assume they have not been afforded the same freedoms as I have here?”
“That is correct.”
At least the Kalarael weren’t stupid.
The invoker continued, though the blue in her eyes darkened. “I must also inform you of another visit you may receive while you are here.” Her whiskers pressed back. “We are not the only sentient species that inhabits this world.”
There was another species on Kalar besides the Kalarael? By the look of it, this was news to Tauthin, Wuteel, and Ed, too.
“They are called the Kalareim.”
“The Kalareim?” How close to Kalarael that sounded. How…peculiar.
Continuing on, Yigôzien said, “I must warn you that the Kalareim are not like us.” Her eyes reddened. “Honor and truth are ingrained in Kalarael society. The same is not true for the Kalareim. They are a vile and manipulative species. Should you encounter them, you must not trust anything they say. They are the spawn of Ophareim.”
Ophareim? Eyes narrowing faintly, Svetlana tried to recall when she’d heard that term before. Ed was quick to chime in. Whereas the three Purities—Shanras, Istéres, and Vusane—represent the colors blue, yellow, and red, Ophareim represents the lack of the Purities.
Yes, that was it—she remembered it now.
The Ithini continued. Being that darkness is indicative of doubt and faithlessness, we can only surmise that to be referred to as the ‘spawn of Ophareim’ is akin to being called children of the Devil in Earthae terms.
So the Kalareim were children of the Devil. Despite Yigôzien’s obvious displeasure in speaking of them, Svetlana found herself insatiably curious. She imagined them as monstrous, frightening beasts—unsettling creatures worthy of such a vile moniker and reputation. She wanted to see them at all costs.
The invoker’s eyes shifted blue. “Tomorrow night, you will be taken to Sélestere, a city near Ban-Hezikal. You will be presented to the Royal Assembly as an ambassador of Kukira at a Celebration of Shanras.”
There she went again with the proper nouns.
“I will personally ensure that you are prepared for this celebration, that your beauty might radiate with the fullness of the Purities!” Excitement brimmed in the invoker’s voice. “As custom dictates, it will be a night never forgotten.”
There seemed no shortage of pomp and circumstance among this group. Only half-smiling behind her mask, Svetlana said, “As custom dictates.” Clearing her throat, she then asked, “When will I be able to see the Khuladi?”
“That is being arranged. It will take place sometime after your visit to Sélestere. I will provide you with further details once I have them.”
At least it sounded like the ball was rolling—and possibly multiple days away.
“As I’ve stated, I understand that your species requires privacy,” Yigôzien said. “For that reason, I will now leave you alone with your comrades.” Turning to a console along the wall, she ran her hand alongside it. “If you require my assistance, please wave your hand in front of this sensor and I will come at once. Otherwise, I will come here to check on you later.”
Bowing her head in gratitude, Svetlana said, “Thank you.” Yigôzien stepped into the elevator, and the door closed behind her.
Svetlana turned back to her Bakma friend. A smile crept up from her lips. “It is so good to see you,” she said again. Behind her, Mishka rubbed his head against her side. She slid her fingers over the beast’s ear to scratch.
Tauthin’s mouth tilted back and forth—a Bakma expression of displeasure. “We are despised among these creatures.”
“Well,” she said, “you have the Khuladi to thank for that.”
The alien’s dark, purple eyes shifted to the archway farther in the room, where Kraash-nagun had disappeared minutes before. “We must speak of Kraash-nagun.”
Svetlana pointed a stern finger in that same direction. “What is his problem?”
Tauthin motioned for her to follow him to the other side of the room. “I wish to speak with you alone.”
Upon hearing the statement, Wuteel’s knobby brow lowered.
This must be something significant. Svetlana followed Tauthin so they could speak in privacy. “What is wrong?”
“Very soon, you will be challenged.”
“Challenged? By whom? Kraash-nagun?”
“That is correct. You must be prepared to defend yourself.”
Raising her palm, she said, “Now, wait a minute. What do you mean, ‘I must be prepared to defend myself?’ Against what? Is he going to attack me?” The question was meant to be rhetorical—but when Tauthin didn’t dispute it, its rhetorical nature faded. Svetlana’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“He does not feel that you are a worthy leader. Though you have set yourself up as his superior, you are nonetheless an inferior lifeform.”
Stifling a retort to that particular remark, she addressed the greater point. “Kraash-nagun would attack me here? Among creatures who consider me sent by a deity? Does he think that would work out well for him?”
“He would not challenge you here, for he knows it would be suicide. But you, yourself, have insinuated that we will not be on this world long. His challenge would come on the Zone Runner, likely soon after our departure.”
“What about what I did in the Zone Runner?” she asked. “I freed everyone on that ship from Nagogg. Was that not good enough in his eyes?” Not lost to her was the fact that Kraash-nagun had no eyes, but for the sake of her example, it didn’t matter.
“What you did is of little significance,” he answered. “It was simply the outcome of the right variety of circumstances, all of which could have been vastly different and therefore could have yielded different results. For a Bakma—or any species utilized by the Khuladi—power is what leads to respect. Power is found in strength, not luck or faith in an unknown god.”
“And so what happens if he attacks me and defeats me? He will be the new ruler? Is the Bakma command structure like playing ‘king of the mountain?’”
“I do not understand that reference. But I can tell you what Kraash-nagun hopes to accomplish. When you are defeated—”
She scoffed. “When, right?”
“—I am to be installed as the new leader. I was bred for command. I was given a leader’s name.”
“Will you join him then, Tauthin? Will you hold me down while he pummels me?”
Shaking his head, he answered, “I do not wish to remove you from command. Quite the contrary, I have come to recognize your worth. I am telling you all of this now that you might be prepared to take preemptive action.”
“Preemptive action? What do you mean?”
“It is imperative that you kill Kraash-nagun with your Earthae weapons as soon as we are back aboard the Zone Runner. If you wait for him to challenge you in close combat, you will not be able to defeat him.”
If she was going to kill him, why wait until then? All she had to do was tell the Kalarael that he was a threat. They’d take him down with red-eyed prejudice. But the thought of killing him wasn’t in her mind. “He would truly challenge me to a fight to remove me from leadership? He told you he would do this?”
“It has been insinuated.”
How that burned her. How that enraged her. She wanted to march after Kraash-nagun right then and there and put everything to rest. “I will put an end to him—right now if I must.”
“There is no need. Again, I have not told you this to prompt action from you here. As I stated, he will not attack you while we are with the Kalarael. But this will be an issue when we have left them and are on our own. You will need to take action then, not now.”
“After all I have done. How dare he think so little of me. I cannot wait to put him in his place.”
“Are you listening to me?”
“I do not want to kill him,” she seethed. “I want to beat him. Into submission, into the ground. I want him to look up at my face and beg me for mercy.”
Bewilderment crossed Tauthin’s face. “But you can kill him—much more easily than you could defeat him in combat. In combat, you are no match for him.”
“I have all of Nagogg’s skills. You saw me wield his spear in the Zone Runner. This staff the Kalarael gave me would be no different.”
A guttural huff escaped Tauthin’s mouth. “You have extracted muscle memory, not experience. Combat ability is not something one can simply siphon.”
“Why not? Did I not do that with Bakmanese? Did I not do that with Nagogg’s role as a rider?” She looked at Mishka, who was licking his massive armpits. “This beast considers me its master. That should indicate more than just the absorption of muscle memory.”
“Look at you,” Tauthin said. “You are malnourished. Weak.”
“So is Kraash-nagun.”
“You would be functioning in an environment in which he has vastly more experience.”
Again, she had him. “That did not hurt me before.”
“Setana…”
Despite her desire to turn away in anger, she kept her gaze on him.
“…you are incapable in your present state of defeating him. If you are to maintain your leadership, you must kill him with Earthae weapons before he can act.”
There was no malice in Tauthin’s words—no attempt to discourage. He was saying it because he believed it was true. That ache in her core grew. “I am incapable of defeating him even though he is blind?”
“His blindness will cease being a factor as soon as he can touch you. You are far from a place where you can defeat a warrior as trained as he is.” He hesitated. “I say none of this to offend you, but what makes you deserving of my respect is not your raw ability. Quite the contrary, it is the great extent to which you have had to overcome your frailties.”
Frailties was the wrong word to use, and her glare let him know it.
He was quick to continue. “I understand what you have absorbed from your siphon with Nagogg. But simply possessing a skill does not mean you know how to use it. As a foot soldier elite, Kraash-nagun has fought many battles on behalf of the Khuladi. And though his muscles are weak, they will redevelop quickly. Will yours? And if so, in what way will you use them? You can twirl a stick, but you have not yet faced a true warrior in combat with one. There are uncertainties in combat that must be navigated by the mind. What has yours seen?”
“Do not speak as if I came from nothing!” For the first time, her voice raised, its tinny reverberations amplified behind her mask. “I am a combat medic! I have been in the middle of the worst of battles. I have seen bodies broken, and I have mended them while plasma streaked past my head. I am EDEN!”
“You are a healer. He is a slaughterer. If you challenge Kraash-nagun as you are, you will lose.”
Had Svetlana been a Kalarael, her eyes would have been red-hot coals. As it was, she could feel her blood boiling. The gall of Tauthinilaas. After all she’d accomplished, after all she’d done for him—for them all. How could she be the Fury of Shanras to one species but just a weak, Earthae female to another? She wanted to whip her shock staff out right then and there.
Calm yourself.
The words were her own. Closing her eyes, Svetlana inhaled and exhaled through her mask. Tauthin respected her. He wouldn’t speak to her out of spite, jealousy, or stubbornness. Logically, she knew that. But to hear herself doubted in such a way—she’d never known anger like what she was feeling now. Especially after all she’d achieved. But what if…
…what if he was right?
Her blond tendrils fell over her face as she looked down. She needed to focus. She needed her emotions to find center. She needed to approach this the way Tauthin was approaching it—with total honesty, no matter how cold it burned. And so, of all the words he’d used in his argument against her, she chose three to cling to. As she was, he’d said, she would lose. She had to be more. With her eyes still closed, she asked him simply, “If I defeat Kraash-nagun, will I have his support?”
There was a pause before Tauthin’s answer. He was considering her words. “If you prove yourself a superior specimen on equal terms, yes. But as I have stated multiple times, it is not necessary.”
Opening her eyes, she looked up at him. “Train me.” The Bakma cocked his head. “Train me to win, in one-on-one combat. You say I lack experience. So give it to me.”
Once more, an mm escaped Tauthin’s lips.
“I need him on my side, Tauthin. I need everyone.”
Pausing, Tauthin said, “I suppose that if given enough—”
That was all she needed to hear. Turning away from Tauthin, Svetlana strode toward the archway leading to the other room.
“Setana!” Tauthin called behind her. “Where are you going?”
Shooting a steely glare back in the Bakma’s direction, she answered, “To challenge him.”
Behind her, Tauthin’s eyes widened.
When Svetlana emerged into the adjacent room, she bellowed, “Kraash-nagun!”
Kraash-nagun, who was seated on a floating stool, flinched at her voice. Rising to his feet, he turned his empty eye sockets her direction.
In the brief moment after she addressed him, Svetlana took in this new part of the suite. It was sprawling—much more so than the side of the chamber whence she’d come. There were numerous, sectioned-off areas, separated by gently swaying draperies, each containing what looked like a floating cot similar to the one in the observation room. There were numerous floating seats and tables scattered about, giving the room the look of a spacious pavilion. In its center was a large depression that looked like a sitting area. So captivating was the sight of all these things, she almost lost track of why she was there.
“Setana?” Kraash-nagun asked, uncertainty in his tone as he listened for her movements.
Focusing on him again, she marched in his direction. He zeroed in on her as soon as her footsteps had reemerged. “I understand you have a problem with my leadership.”
His confounded expression was apparent even without eyes to see her. When he opened his mouth to reply, it hung for a moment. “I do not understand, my lady.”
“Do not my lady me. Your angst toward me is open for all to see. Speak of it.” Once again, he said nothing—so on, she went. “It has been brought to my attention that you take issue with my command, despite the fact that it was I who freed you from the rule of Nagogg and a life of servitude under the Khuladi.”
“I do not take issue with what you have done. I take issue with what you claim to be. Your victory was one of chance, yet you carry yourself as if you are one to be feared. To follow a weak specimen such as yourself is a disgrace.”
Time to throw it all down. “You believe you are superior to me?” Behind her, Tauthin, Wuteel, and Ed slipped into the room to watch.
“I believe you fell into good fortune and attributed it to strength,” Kraash-nagun said.
“Answer my question.”
Lips curling, he tilted his head. “Were I not blind, I could have single-handedly defeated every member of Nagogg’s crew. I was bred by the Khuladi to be an elite warrior. My name decrees it.”
She’d take that as a yes. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“I care little for what you think.”
“I think I am stronger than you.” As the words escaped her lips, a low growl emanated from the warrior. Behind Svetlana, Tauthin and Wuteel listened in pin-drop silence. “I think I am more physically capable. That I am more determined. That I am superior.”
Kraash-nagun’s neck muscles tensed—the foot soldier stood erect, gnarled talons tightly gripping the air as he looked on the verge of pouncing. “Like an untrained sorceress, you bewitch yourself.”
“I challenge you.”
His knobby eyebrows lifted. “To what?”
“To a duel. Of superiority. Of dominance, whatever you want to call it.”
“And to the victor, what spoils?”
Perhaps it was the thought of just how little she knew Kraash-nagun regarded her, but a part of Svetlana was surprised he didn’t laugh the idea off. “Command,” she answered. “If you defeat me, command of the Zone Runner goes to you. But if I win,” she said, leaning closer though she knew he couldn’t see it, “I will have proven myself superior to you. Stronger than you. I will have proven myself worthy to be followed.” That one’s worthiness of command could be measured by such a trivial thing as physical strength was ridiculous to her—but this was how the Khuladi operated. If a test of strength was what it took to solidify her position, so be it.
“I am blind. What challenge would I be to you?”
“You were not blind in the Zone Runner when Ei`dorinthal gave you his vision. He will do the same thing, again.”
Once again, Kraash-nagun’s mouth opened to reply, and once again, no words came out. Behind them, Wuteel looked at Tauthin in disbelief.
“It will be you versus me,” Svetlana said, “both able to see in their own way, both with shock staffs provided by the Kalarael.” She was sure she’d have no problem attaining one for him. “We will have four days to prepare ourselves. On the fifth day, we will duel.”
“And where will this duel be?”
“Outside this place.” That pink plaster-earth would make as good a stretch of turf as anything. “I am sure the Kalarael would not mind observing an Earthae custom in action.”
“And is a ‘duel of dominance’ an Earthae custom?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Earthae have always settled their differences with combat, be it one man versus another or a war of nations. It is a primitive way of solving problems, but if I must partake in such savagery to prove myself again, so be it.” She angled her head. “Your species seems to worship needless warfare. It surprises me that this concept surprises you.”
“The Khuladi do not assign leadership to the weak,” he spat back at her. “That custom is strictly Earthae.” Leaning forward, he rasped. “I accept your challenge. I look forward to putting you back at the bottom of the food chain, where you belong.”
“We will see about that.” With nothing more to say, Svetlana stepped backward, turned around, and strode toward the archway. As she passed by Tauthin and Wuteel, both Bakma stepped aside to clear the way.
Arrogant jerk. Svetlana stormed across the main room of the chamber, heat emanating from her skin. Reaching behind her back, she pulled out her shock staff and twirled it in her hands. She wanted to smash the wall with it. I will grind his face into that pink earth. Glancing at one of the many windows that surrounded the chamber’s outer wall, she stared at the landscape. I will stain it red with his blood.
Tauthin, approaching behind her, minced no words. “That was foolish, Setana.”
“It was necessary.”
“It was not. The reason I told you about his angst was so that you could kill him in the Zone Runner before he challenged you, not so you could race him to your demise.”
She didn’t want to hear it. What was done was done. “Can you train me or not?”
“I can. In six months, you perhaps could stand a chance.”
“We don’t have months; we have days.”
Sweeping his arm to the side in emphasis, he said, “That is my point! What you have done is beyond all rationality. Were there not more important matters at hand than laying down a needless challenge?”
Stepping closer to Tauthin to look him in the eyes, she said, “My priority is learning what I can while I am here and then leaving—with a crew that is loyal.”
“Why is it so important that you have Kraash-nagun’s loyalty? Should you desire, you could leave him here with the Kalarael. Perhaps that is the best solution! What significance is he to you?”
How could she make him understand? For Tauthin, it was a simple matter of logistics. Kraash-nagun was unnecessary, so there was no need to win him over. While that might have made sense from a logical standpoint, it didn’t account for the thing that mattered most. It didn’t account for the reason she was so insistent that every member of her crew—as logistically insignificant as they might have been—was fully faithful to her leadership. It had nothing to do with logic.
It had to do with weakness—something for which she had no more tolerance. She’d spent her life being mocked, ridiculed, and underestimated, not only as a prisoner of Nagogg, but on Earth as well. She was tired of being a laughingstock. She was tired of being a punchline. Overcoming Nagogg and taking control of the Zone Runner had been the boldest thing she’d ever done. It had elevated her to a status she’d never thought attainable. She could be a warrior. A victor. She could be a champion.
And she loved it. God, did she love it. That feeling of confidence, that total belief in her own ability. Look at what she’d done. Look at what she’d accomplished. Who else could have done it? Kraash-nagun claimed that if he had his sight, he could have defeated every member of Nagogg’s crew himself. But because he had no sight, he hadn’t even tried. Svetlana had been beaten down, chained to a floor, mutilated, humiliated. Her assortment of available excuses was huge. She hadn’t used a single one of them. In doing what she’d done, she’d proven herself impervious to her own limitations. She could do anything. Anything.
How dare someone question her now.
“I have been looked down upon for too long,” Svetlana said to Tauthin quietly, voice trembling with emotion. “I have tasted the bitter sting of not being taken seriously. I cannot go back to that again.” She looked him in the eyes. “I must have the belief of my crew. At all costs. Whatever the consequence.”
The chamber fell quiet as Tauthin stared at her. Crinkling his nose, he grunted before saying with bared teeth, “You reek of pride.”
“And what would you know of that? What have you ever been proud of?” It was a harsh thing to say, and she regretted it instantly. She turned away from him. “I am sorry.”
It didn’t stop him from replying. “I am proud of being called your friend. Before you and Remata, I knew of no such concept.”
Her stomach ached. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “You are a good friend. You have much to be proud of. It was a stupid thing for me to say.”
The Bakma angled his head. “You have become the hunter you sought to escape.”
She almost laughed. That was a thought. “And what am I hunting?”
“Validation.”
Grimacing, she turned away from him, taking a step in the opposite direction to put a little distance between them. That one burned. What she felt next was a touch she’d never felt from an alien—a gesture so thoughtful and well-meant, she could almost have imagined it coming from Scott or Max. Gently placing his gnarled talons atop both her shoulders from behind, Tauthin gave them a compassionate squeeze.
“I have learned much in the presence of your species.” As he spoke, she lowered her head, her blond strands once again dangling forward. “I can see that you are greatly troubled. You fight a war on many fronts.”
How true those words were.
“Your challenge to Kraash-nagun—this duel of dominance, as you call it—I consider unnecessary. I consider it a distraction.” He drew a breath in through his slitted nostrils. “But now, I see that it is necessary for you. I do not understand it, but I have come to learn that not everything is meant to be understood.” He squeezed her shoulders again. “I will help you prepare for your challenge to Kraash-nagun. But know that even if you fail, you will have lost nothing in my eyes.”
Shaking her head, she said quietly, “I will not fail.”
“I hope you are right. I will train you harshly. I will allow no room for error. You will not enjoy it.”
She didn’t intend do.
“My only request is that you not lose sight of why you are here—or of where you are. You are seeing sights that no Earthae has seen. Even I, a lifelong slave of the Khuladi, see the value in that. Will you agree to that?”
It sounded like such an easy assignment—to see what was around her. How very hard she knew it would be. “Yes.”
Nodding, Tauthin slid his talons from her shoulders. “You have mere days to prepare yourself. You will need much more preparation than Kraash-nagun. You will also need to explain your training to Yigôzien, that she might inform the Kalarael of it. They must see it as a customary act and not one of defiance within our ranks. I am sure she and her ilk will be eager to observe.” Judging from his tone, he didn’t seem too thrilled. “You have opened a door for Kraash-nagun to remove you from command. Much as you, he will not consider failure a possibility.”
Sighing, Svetlana blew a breath upward to blow her hair from her face, only to find the effort blocked by the mask. She reached up to brush her strands aside. With one hand on a hip, she motioned to Tauthin. “I understand.”
“I feel we must discuss the dichotomy of our roles.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You are my leader, but you must also heed my every instruction.”
“So you’re asking if I’m okay taking orders? Please. I have taken orders my whole life.”
Tauthin released a guttural mm. “And how well you are handling the prospect of subservience.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So you are trying sarcasm, now?”
With his tone more serious, he asked, “Are you ready for your first task?”
“I am.”
He leaned in close, his opaque, purple lenses locking onto her. “Relax.”
“I’m sorry, relax?”
“Walk around this chamber—it has been prepared for you. This is a place of wonder. Explore it, as we have for many hours before you arrived here. Look upon this alien architecture. Appreciate it. Once you leave after you see the Khuladi, you will likely never return.”
There was wisdom in his words, even if she was itching to start swinging her staff around. “I will do as you ask.” Taking a step back, Tauthin pivoted around to walk away from her. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“To my quarters. There is much I must do to prepare if I am to train you so quickly.”
“We have quarters here?”
Hesitating, he looked back at her again. “We have…cloth.”
The dangling draperies she’d seen earlier. They must have served as separators for each of their living spaces in that same, big room. It was better than nothing.
“Contact Yigôzien, and then explore this chamber. We begin training today.”
Svetlana did as Tauthin suggested, using the control panel that Yigôzien had showed her to summon the invoker back to the chamber. When Yigôzien arrived, she was accompanied by a pair of darishu. Svetlana’s explanation of the duel of dominance was met with amazement by the three Kalarael. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge guilty about the high regard with which Yigôzien seemed to hold this duel, considering it was just an idea that had popped into Svetlana’s head on a whim.
From then on out, it was Yigôzien who was doing the explaining and Svetlana who was taking in every word. It all began with the grand tour of her luxury, alien suite. As Svetlana expected might be the case, there was a delightful surprise at every turn.
The first surprise was that things were not nearly as “white” as they seemed. Yigôzien explained how one of the many consoles along the wall could be used to paint the room’s walls in any color the resident desired. The white was merely a canvas on which splashes of color—quite literally—were expected to land. It took but a few simple presses on the touchscreen display for the room to be cast in the same vibrant blues and yellows that Svetlana had seen on the space station. There were entire walls in the suite dedicated purely to displaying that same flowing, liquid mural she’d seen there.
The floating beds had been brought in specifically for them—just enough to give each member of her crew a place to lay their heads. As for the depression in the center of the room, its purpose turned out to be twofold. In one form, it was a round seating area for the room’s occupants to gather and socialize where each member could look upon the other in equal measure. It was quite large—easily four meters in diameter—and was used for everything from conversing to eating meals, which was always done socially in Kalarael society. It took nothing but a simple press of a display button for floating trays to rise out of the floor to be placed along the depression’s stair-stepped circumference, where its diners would be seated. It was quite wonderful to see a meeting place with such a dedicated purpose geared toward camaraderie.
The second purpose for the depression was more surprising. It could be filled with water, transforming it from a social area to what was essentially a massive hot tub. This was a feature Svetlana could not wait to use. The downside was that it also served as the communal bathing area. The thought of bathing with Bakma wasn’t exactly thrilling, so she made a mental note to order them into the other room when the time came to cleanse.
By the time the grand tour of her chambers had been completed, it was time to eat. Everyone in the chamber joined in the meal, including the two darishu. It was the first time she’d seen any darishu remove their helmets, and it pleased her to see that beneath their silvery, metallic exteriors, they were just normal Kalarael—one a brown-skinned male named Toro-shun with bright green and gold plumes, and the other a violet-skinned female named Akàziendi whose black down feathers were shorter and accented with a dark shade of purple. Unlike Yigôzien and Toro-shun, whose facial features were more vulpine, Akàziendi’s were decidedly softer—almost feline in appearance. Together, they joined everyone else around the depression in the center of the room to break proverbial bread.
The “bread,” so to speak, consisted of a variety of dishes that’d been deemed safe for consumption for Svetlana and her crew. The most visually stimulating of the courses was the luminescent blue bulb of a vibrant, purple plant stalk. As the Kalarael demonstrated, the bulbs were dipped in a condiment that looked like nothing more than thick, clear water, but that provided a sweet, nectary taste to the bulbs, which themselves tasted like a crisp mix of golden apple and watermelon. It offered a fresh, fantastic flavor, and she ate every one of the bulbs on her plate.
In addition to the bulbs, they were also served a bowl of grainy, white seeds not dissimilar to rice in texture, but with a decidedly more sour taste. When eaten by itself it was quite displeasurable, but when mixed with chopped bulbs, it created a sort of fruity, sweet-and-sour flavor that was strangely appealing. There were also long strips of briny meat that Yigôzien explained came from one of the many mammals that inhabited the forests of Kalar, along with something akin to a salad that was comprised of a variety of brightly colored leaflings topped with a tangy red sauce. The drink of choice was a bright red and bubbly drink that burned all the way down Svetlana’s throat before unleashing a cool sensation of mint coupled with the odd taste of pickled cherries. She had no idea if she loved it or hated it, and she found herself drinking two glasses of the stuff just for the experience. Every bite of every dish was so peculiar—so unique. These were flavors and combinations that she’d never fathomed, each distinct from the next but all in harmony. It was a meal as extraterrestrial as the extraterrestrials themselves. But perhaps the strangest thing of all was how normal it all felt.
No matter how alien any part of the meal might have been, she was still eating around the equivalent of a dinner table. She was still sharing it with other lifeforms, as she would have with the Fourteenth. It mattered little that of all the guests at this particular table, she was the only one that was human. Even Mishka felt like the family pet, lying down by himself and occasionally glancing at the table like a dog hoping for scraps. This all felt so familiar. She even felt no reservation about taking off her mask to partake in the meal. She had nothing to hide from anyone there.
There was, however, one thing about the event that left Svetlana feeling cold, and it had nothing to do with the Kalarael or the bizarre food they’d been served. It had to do with Kraash-nagun. Sitting around the proverbial dinner table with him felt much like sitting at the table with a family member one was feuding with. The two didn’t speak. They didn’t even look in each other’s direction—not that it would have made a difference to the blind elite. But that chasm between them was so great, they might as well have been on opposite sides of the planet.
What Tauthin had said had been true: Kraash-nagun was not a necessary part of the process. He could be killed or left behind and it wouldn’t have mattered. There was no function on the Zone Runner that he was required for. But he doubted her. He doubted her. And it was that—so much more so than any role he could have played—that gnawed at her soul. Perhaps that said something about the state of her insecurities. Perhaps that part of her that she hated so much was still anchored deep. But perhaps, she was just more like Nagogg than she’d initially thought. She only knew one thing for certain: she had to win.
At all costs.
When the meal concluded, Yigôzien informed Svetlana that there were no other tasks scheduled for the day. The invoker would be staying in a suite of her own, while Toro-shun and Akàziendi remained with Svetlana at all times. This surprised her, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about their already-packed suite housing two more, but she accepted the additional manpower under the condition that two extra cots were “floated” in to provide them with proper places to lay their heads.
By the time Yigôzien bid Svetlana farewell, it was early evening. Outside of her penthouse window, the orange and pink hues of the slowly dipping sun cast pastel rays across the sky. A day on Kalar lasted just over thirty-three Earth hours, which meant that, despite the evening hues, there were still many more hours left to the day. That meant that in effect, she’d have nine bonus hours each day to work with. She intended to take advantage of them. A duel was imminent—one that would finally determine her place among the Bakma she’d freed. One that would require her fiercest effort. Her absolute best.
There was no time like the present to start getting ready.