Chapter 13

Adrik

By the end of my day with Lise, there was no question in my mind that I wanted this female. Wanted her in every way, with a ferocity I found unsettling. I had to constantly remind myself not to touch her, not to look at her too long, not to invite her back to my home. And I asked myself a thousand times: why her? Why the one female here not interested in a mate?

Lusting after a female who would be gone in less than six standard galactic months was pure foolishness. But there were things that could not be helped, like who one found appealing. When I saw her in the dining hall, it took everything I had to walk past instead of going to her, sitting with her, drawing her into conversation. I just wanted to be close, to smell her, and to see the flash of green in her beautiful eyes. She still wore my mother’s necklace, The sight of that around her neck fanned the flames of my possessiveness.

And when I walked by, I thought I caught a glimpse of disappointment in her. The slumped of her shoulders, the dropping of her brow. She wanted me to talk to her. Perhaps she was just as confused by this attraction as I was, but the only cure for it was to leave her be for now.

I told myself that I was a patient male. That time would reveal whether there could be anything between us. That if she left after six months, then I would know, but even I knew this was a terrible metric. There was more at play here than my attraction for this human female. I was growing increasingly worried about the well-being of my Thrail’s human residents.

Not just that they were not getting pregnant, but I was hearing from their mates that there was a general decline in their health. I had sent the results of the screenings and exams, and all the testing done on the water and food and air in my Thrail, to medics in other Thrails and beyond. All the screenings revealed no toxins, no viruses, no bacteria and no mutagens. There was nothing at all to explain what was happening.

“I have a report for you, Pal-Adrik.” Dikon, the warrior I had put in charge of the females during their adjustment, stood in the doorway of my lordroom. I had assigned him to monitor Lise’s activities. I wanted to know who she spoke to and what she was doing. Yes, to keep her safe, but also because I hoped she might learn something that the tests were not revealing. She was speaking to as many females as she could, interviewing them about their experiences. I knew from Dikon’s reporting to me that she was investigating the fertility problems here. She had reached out to other Thrails with questions about babies and mothers there.

“Proceed.”

Dikon rattled off four names of human females that Lise had interviewed the previous day. Three had mates. One did not.

She had been very busy, this female. Dikon’s brows twitched together in a scowl. “Are you sure you wish for her to proceed in this course? It could look very badly for our Thrail if she reports on the females’ health concerns to her home world.”

“I don’t care how it makes our Thrail look, Dikon.” I walked to the window and gazed out on the southern side, where buildings gave way to hills and landing pads. “In fact, if this persistent problem does not get resolved, I will be sending all of the females to other Thrails or to their home planet. Whichever they prefer.”

Dikon’s eyes widened. “All of them, Warlord? But that would mean—”

“It would mean Thrail Tyvor would cease to exist when the last of us died out.” The words were painful to speak aloud. “That would be the end.”

“But the northern border would be exposed. The Dessicans would overrun us and invade.”

I met his gaze sharply, well aware of what would happen should my Thrail fall. “If the human females become more ill or die, it will threaten all of Mitra’s chances of rebuilding. The other Thrails will protect the border.” I flexed my hands. “I will not allow these females to continue to decline. And if they cannot reproduce here, we are doomed, anyway.”

Dikon’s jaw moved back and forth in agitation. “I see your point perfectly, Warlord. I had no idea our situation was as grim as it is.”

“So you see now why I wish to enable Lise to continue her questioning. Perhaps there is something—a clue that the humans will tell her—that may reveal what all of our many, many tests and scans have not.”

“With all due respect, Pal-Adrik, how can a single human female, with no science or medical expertise, find a cure to what is ailing the humans here?”

I turned on him, more forcefully than I intended. “I don’t expect her to find a cure, Dikon. I would be happy for just a reason. If we can find what is causing these problems, then we can begin finding a solution.”

Dikon nodded. “Understood, my warlord. Have you spoken to the other warlords about transferring these females to their Thrails?”

“Not yet, and I would like this to stay between you and me for the time being. An Itakkian science team—you know how advanced their technology is—is looking at the data from our Thrail as we speak. I hope to soon hear when they will be arriving. In the meantime, continue keeping me apprised of Lise’s movements and activities.”

“Discreetly, of course,” said Dikon. “She has no idea I am watching her.”

I nodded. “Keep it that way.”

“Have you spoken to her about her investigations?” Dikon’s expression turned a little wary. “I had a chance to see her…they call it a ‘column,’ that she sent back to Earth. It was interesting.”

“How so?” I asked.

“From what I have learned, her column is produced weekly. It is lighthearted in theme. It is words and video about lifestyle, and meant to be fun and humorous. It differs very much from the news stories she writes, which I assume will be centered on our current fertility issues.”

I waved a hand impatiently. “What about this column did you find interesting?”

Dikon looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, you feature in it quite prominently, Warlord.” He scratched his head at the base of his horns, shifting his brakas. He looked away. “That camera that follows her everywhere, recording everything, was focused a good deal on you. It included images of the two of you together. Her column itself was an introduction to Mitra and Thrail Tyvor, but…”

My patience had expired. “Spit it out, Dikon, or I will find this ‘column’ myself and end your apparent misery.”

“Oh, very well. It was not the column itself, but the comments of the humans that surprised me. It would appear that the piece is wildly popular. It is the most talked about thing on Earth at the current time. The talk is centered around you and Lise.”

“What kind of talk?”

Dikon took a deep breath. “Your romance, Warlord.”

“There is no romance,” I said with a shake of my head.

“It would appear that humans disagree. They believe that you are in love with her and base this theory on the looks the two of you share. Perhaps they would like to see a romance between you and the journalist.” His expression turned gently chiding. “Humans are an absurd species.”

They think I love her?I turned away and began to pace. I thought about Yaran giving Lise that necklace. Our lunch at the fishing pier. Our exchange in the barn over Besi’s pregnant belly. I closed my eyes and rubbed a hand over my face. “I can see why they got that impression.”

“Are you saying that you do love this human?” asked Dikon.

“Whatever feelings I may have for Lise are my business.” I felt restless, impatient, but for what, I didn’t know. “Nevertheless, if I must evacuate every human woman from this Thrail, that will include her. And that is the answer you, and anyone else who asks, will get.”

Dikon’s expression cleared, as if something I said made sense to him. I wish it made sense to me. “Very well. Shall I have that column sent to your communication device for you to see for yourself?”

I hesitated, not sure I wanted to see myself the way these humans saw me, as a lovesick alien pining for an oblivious human. Perhaps not so oblivious. “Yes. Send it to me.”

“Very well.” Dikon exited my chambers, leaving me with a tight chest and a dull ache behind my ribs that felt a little bit like frustration and a whole lot like longing.

I didn’t know if I would ever look at Lise’s column. Much would depend on how things resolved here. It was possible that she would soon be gone. Out of my life, forever.