4. Carter

FOUR

CARTER

" Y es, lifemate. My apologies, she must seem like a stranger to you."

He motioned toward the cowering female.

"Come here, Arael. Stop being fussy like some child. You are his wife. Attend to him."

She moved into the room, shoulders hunched over, and came to stand before me. She did not meet my gaze, instead staring at the floor.

"Introduce yourself, woman," the Physicker snapped.

She flinched, then licked her lips and spoke in a tiny voice.

"I am Arael, milord. I am yours, and live only to serve you."

I scowled, disgust roiling my gut. Humans had once had similar attitudes about our women, and much to our detriment. I did not like the way the doctor spoke to her, but obviously it was the status quo. If I wanted to blend in, I could not object.

I didn't have to like it, though.

Stop it, Carter. She's an alien. They're all aliens. Who cares about their fucked up culture, or about her feelings for that matter? It's just good that she won't be a nag.

"Hello, Arael. I don't remember you. Obviously I must have done something incredible to win your heart."

She lifted her gaze to meet mine, confusion reigning in the lavender depths. The Physicker scratched the back of his neck.

"Gro, you took Arael as your trophy when you slew her father in battle. As far as her heart, such considerations are for poets and storytellers, not Followers of the Dzun. I hope you remember that much at least, and soon."

I wasn't sure what to say. He stared at me sternly for a moment and then swept out of the room. I supposed that meant we were dismissed.

I found a pair of boots, the same color and plain stitching as before. I slid into them and found they fit well enough. I turned to face Arael.

What do you say to someone in this situation? I don't think there are any words.

"They want us to leave. Do we have a dwelling of some sort?"

She nodded.

"I can take you to our Aerie, milord."

Aerie? That's a strange way to put it.

I followed her out of the door into the hallway. The green metal formed the floor and ceiling, but not the walls. It took me a moment to realize that the hospital had been built into the existing structure.

I don't think these aliens are the ones responsible for the creation of the Luna facility. They appear to have come upon the technology and managed to harness some of its properties, but I doubt they can replicate it.

My estimation of these aliens dropped another peg or two.

We passed by many patients at the hospital. Most of them bore gruesome injuries, such as missing limbs or hideous burns. My stomach twisted in revulsion at the thought of how miserable it must be.

I began to notice several things about my new body. For one, I was a considerably larger specimen than all of the species I had yet encountered. I stood at least a full head taller, and would have been several hundred pounds heavier if this had been Earth.

Who knows, perhaps this species is only six inches tall, and it's all relative from my perspective.

I doubted it, though. Most galactic species fell in the three foot to eight foot range.

Of course, this may not be the same galaxy, either.

I had to stop thinking about it, or I would have gone mad. I followed her out into the open. The wind picked up, stirring my hair and purple fronds of knobby, silver barked trees planted outside the hospital.

I considered the settlement before me. To my eyes it looked very Roman in both the way it had been structured and the rough technology level.

Only then I noticed a cart laden with exotic—to my eye at least—fruits or vegetables or the alien equivalent floating past with no seeming means of locomotion.

Antigrav tech. Perhaps these people are not so unadvanced as I initially thought.

The cart was not the only thing defying gravity. Soldiers dressed much the same as I patrolled the skies, wearing elaborate harnesses with glowing, eldritch wings apparently keeping them aloft.

Something passed between us and the moonlight. I looked up, expecting to see a cloud, and instead beheld a floating stone the size of a small castle drifting overhead. No one else had any reaction, so I assumed this to be a normal phenomenon.

Where in the Hell am I? Do the laws of physics even apply here? Maybe I'm still in a coma, and haven't woken up yet. This could all be a dream, or a simulation or something…

If it were a simulation, it was extraordinarily detailed. We took a rampway down to a lower level of the city, leaning on a railing with some oxidation near the fastenings. The air held a strange tinge of scents that seemed alien, yet hauntingly familiar.

The more I walked through the settlement, following my alien ‘wife,' the more I realized that the village had been built into the remnants of an alien vessel.

A starship, maybe? Or a satellite or space station that crashed? Do these people even understand the potential treasures upon which they tread?

My scientific curiosity took over. It was all I could do not to pepper Arael with questions. She seemed so fragile, so scared. Then again, she'd been forced to marry the man who killed her father.

All of the denizens of the village seemed to avoid looking at me, and only made eye contact when they had no other choice. They shrank away from me, and even crossed the street to avoid being near me.

They're all afraid of this Gro person. Is it because he's, or should I say, I, am so much larger than everyone else?

Or is there more to it? Warriors are obviously revered in this society, but none of the other soldiers are causing such a reaction.

We crossed an arched bridge which hung over a merrily bubbling stream of luminescent blue water. Piscean shapes darted about in the depths, catching the moonlight in brilliant splashes of color. I slowed down and stared, unable to fully comprehend such beauty.

Arael stopped, then came to stand about three feet from my side. She stared down into the water, and then at me.

"What are you looking at, milord?"

"The stream, I…it is beautiful."

The words came out of my mouth as easily as breathing. Her mouth gaped open, and she nodded.

"Yes. It is beautiful."

Tears ran down her cheeks, glistening like jewels in the bright light of the triad of moons. I felt as if someone had stabbed me in the heart.

She is an alien, an alien, Carter. She doesn't even have real emotions, not like a human being.

"I'm sorry," I said, realizing how banal words truly were when faced with the unfathomable emptiness of loss.

"Why, milord?"

She wiped her tears and sniffled.

"Does my weeping distress you? I'm sorry, I will stop."

"No, don't stop."

Her eyes widened.

"You wish me to continue to weep?"

"No! I mean, yes…I don't know what I mean."

I took her by the arms and faced her head on.

"Arael, I'm sorry. You have lost your lifemate, for all intents and purposes. The physicker said my memories are likely gone forever. I can't change that, and I wish I could."

I spoke in a rush, the words a tumult gushing from the depths of my soul. It felt strange to speak in such a frank, dare I say earnest manner. I normally hid my intentions in a cloak of enigma. I did not wear my heart on my sleeve or give a great proclamation.

"I am also sorry that Gro…that I killed your father."

She shook her head, lips forming an inverted U.

"Milord?"

Her confusion gave me pause, until I reasoned it out.

What's happened to her is perfectly normal in her culture. She can't fathom anyone apologizing for it. The sooner I can figure out a way to escape this fleshly prison and return to my own body, the better.

"Never mind. Let's just go home."

"Yes, Milord."

She led me over the bridge and through a neighborhood of single family dwellings. The alien settlers had set up shop wherever they could, leading to some haphazard and unique architectural designs.

My house, as it turned out, was fit neatly into a vectoring flap on the crashed starship. We had a rooftop garden with vines that grew up to the top of the decayed but still sturdy flap. It looked as if many of the denizens of the village grew at least some of their own food. Such gardens were common.

Arael opened the door, a metal iris similar to the ones I'd seen in the lunar facility. This renewed my hope that I might be able to find a way home. Once inside, she turned to me yet stared at the floor, rubbing her hands together.

"Is there anything I can get you, milord?"

"Ah, yes, I'm quite thirsty. I could use something refreshing to drink."

I didn't ask for water, because who knew if this species even drank water? I could tell they drank something, from the drinking vessels I'd seen in rubbish piles on our journey home.

"Yes, milord."

She rushed into the kitchen like a whipped dog. I looked around Gro's house and realized that he had a penchant for what I would have called creature comforts. Like the fur rug next to his fireplace, or the extra cushions on the largest, throne style chair in the main room.

The house was practically just the one room, with a kitchen through an open archway and a sleeping area up in a loft overlooking the main floor. One of the winged harnesses I'd seen earlier hung on a specialized rack over the fireplace. Below it rested a long, lance-like weapon that appeared to be made entirely of an ebon crystal.

I picked it up, and instantly felt my left arm go cold. I gasped as lines of light shot down my arm and into the lance, making it glow from the inside.

"What's going on? Why do I feel weak?"

Arael ran out of the kitchen, her mouth gaping open.

"You are feeding too much of your Kuri into the spear, milord. You must shut off the flow before it explodes."

"How do I do that?"

"You just…do it!"

She was clearly flustered. I tried to release the spear, but it remained firmly in my grip. Some side effect of the leeching process? I didn't have time to puzzle it out.

It sounded to me like it came down to a question of willpower, and that I had in abundance. I imagined the lights traveling down my arm slowing down, then stopping.

I felt the drain slow down to a trickle, and then cease altogether. I released the spear and stepped back from it as if it were a venomous snake.

"Are you all right, milord?"

"Yes, I think so. Thank you, Arael."

She nodded, wringing her hands. Then she gasped, her eyes opening wide as dinner plates.

"Oh no, I forgot your drink! Forgive me, milord."

She rushed into the kitchen.

"It's alright…this is growing burdensome and annoying."

I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen, and then returned a moment later bearing a metal goblet filled with a dark purple liquid, and a coil of braided leather. She handed me the drink, which I gratefully took and drained in one go. I gasped, no longer parched.

She took the empty goblet from my hand, her whole body trembling. Then she handed me the coil of braided leather.

"What's this for…is this a whip?"

"I thought you would want to punish me, milord, for forgetting your drink."

Her eyes held a mix of fear and apathetic, yet miserable acceptance.

She's been living in horror. Any sympathy I might have had for this Gro whose body and life I have usurped just went extinct.

"I will not beat you for a simple oversight, if it can even be called that. Put this away. I do not wish to see it again."

She looked at me for a long time, and then took the braided leather back and walked away. I think she was more confused than grateful. When she returned, she licked her lips and seemed to struggle to speak.

"What is it you want to say, Arael?"

"I…it is nearly time for the evening meal."

"That sounds good. Um, am I supposed to cook it, or?—"

"Oh no, milord! I'll take care of it, and I'll do a good job, I promise."

She ran back into the kitchen. Our evening went like that as the hours wore excruciatingly on. Arael was terrified of making the slightest error, and apologized profusely for, well, basically existing.

I'd spent some time watching outside the window, and looking at the way the other aliens behaved. While it was obvious that there was a division of roles based on gender in this society, it was also obvious that most of the women were not miserable, fearful wretches like Arael.

The food she made me was some kind of stew. I couldn't identify the different crunches and soft bits but it proved incredibly satisfying. I got up and helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen. I wanted to help, but I also had some curiosity as to what their kitchen looked like.

There was the usual assortment of grills, ovens, and prep stations familiar to species who prepared their meals in advance. There were also things I could not identify, but had the wear and tear of daily use so they must have served some vital function.

I was intrigued to see that we had running hot and cold water in addition to power. I didn't have a compad to do a full analysis, but I believed the water to be galactic standard, two hydrogen and one oxygen molecule. It certainly felt and tasted that way.

Arael gave me a wide berth in the kitchen. She practically jumped out of her skin whenever I brushed against her. Annoyance soon overwhelmed the pathos.

"Arael, sit down."

She grabbed a nearby three legged stool and settled on it with the speed of fear, her eyes looking up at me with dread.

I squatted down so that we would be on eye level. If I'd done that in my human body, my knees would have ached and maybe even buckled. Gro's physique made it easy. I thought I could at least enjoy the physicality of my new form while I had it.

"I know that you're afraid of Gro…afraid of me. But Gro, the Gro you knew, is gone. I'm someone else now, and I won't hurt you. I promise."

Her mouth fell open as she stared at me.

"It is your right to discipline me, milord."

"Maybe it's a right, but that doesn't make it right."

Her lips quivered, and tears slid down her cheeks.

"Not again. Now what did I do?" I groaned and stood up. "I'm trying to get you to stop crying, not cry even more."

"Forgive me, milord."

"Stop apologizing for everything!"

My voice increased in volume because of my agitation, which only made her cringe even more. Gro had a set of lungs on him, that was for sure.

"I'm sorry." I held my hand out toward her, then pulled it back. "I'm sorry."

I turned away from her and rushed out the door into the night. I had to get away. This wasn't my life, it wasn't my world. I had to get back to my real body.

The ship. The ship that the colony had been built on. That was my only hope. The settlement had been built upon the upper decks of the crashed vessel. Most of it remained below ground, hidden from view. If it were intact enough, there might be a way to get a message to Luna.

I moved through the streets, largely empty at that hour. The few aliens I encountered all avoided me just like the rest.

I reached the outskirts of the settlement, and saw a long, rocky trail leading down to a possible entrance to the ship. As I set foot upon it, I heard a voice from nearby.

"I heard you're daffy in the head now, but are you really sure you want to throw your life away?"

I spun about, my eyes discerning a small shape sitting with its back to a boulder. A juvenile alien, one of his eyes closed permanently by a jagged scar.

"What are you talking about? Just who are you?"

"Ah yes, I'd heard you had amnesia."

The juvenile stepped into the moonlight, scrawny and scraggly. His ribs stuck out like bare branches on a tree, and mud caked his skin in several places.

"I'm Lo. The only person in Starlost Village who isn't afraid of you."

I looked at the miserable wretch before me. An exile of some sort? Why did he dwell out here amongst the ruins of the ship?

"Greetings, Lo. Apparently my name is Gro. It's nice to meet you. Again."

His eyes widened.

"Wow, that Backlash really did a number on your noggin, didn't it? You're…nice, now."

"But you did not fear me before?"

He shook his head.

"No. Why should I? Everyone else is afraid you'll go berserk and take away everything they have. As you can see, I have nothing to lose."

"Why is that? Were you exiled?"

His eyes narrowed, and his voice took on an edge.

"I am a bastard. My mother was raped by a raider from another tribe, so my father does not claim me, nor allow me in his house."

"None of that is your fault."

"Yes it is. I should have known better than to be born a bastard."

It took me several moments to realize he was making a jest.

"Well, Lo, why do you think I would be throwing my life away if I entered the ship?"

"Entered the what?"

"The ruins. The ancient structure the village is built upon."

His gaze lit up with understanding.

"Oh, you don't remember that, either? The Ancients left many tricks and traps behind, because someday they are coming back for their vessel, and they don't want a bunch of Masari clogging up the works."

"Masari? Is that what our species…I mean, our people are called?"

"Yes, we are the Masari. Our Tribe is the Starlost. There's a story why but no one has ever bothered to tell me how it got the name."

I was curious, but not as much as I was about the ruins.

"I must get inside."

Lo stepped onto the path ahead of me.

"In that case, allow me to be your guide. I've explored more of the Ancient temple than anyone else. Anyone that made it back out alive, that is."

I faced him squarely and narrowed my gaze.

"Show me."