25. Ree

25

Ree

I don't think Thivoll has caught on to the fact that I can't just gulp entire meals down.

He is looking at me expectantly and I have no clue what to do with all the leaves I'm holding.

I wish I had a pocket.

"You dummy," I grumble under my breath. "Sorry, that was directed at me."

I look down at my black suit. It's still just as embarrassingly tight, but it does indeed now have a pocket. A giant one over my belly like I'm a kangaroo, but I don't want to push my luck trying to ask for a different arrangement.

I simply stuff the vegetation in there and clamber up. Thivoll takes off at a run and I have to hold on tight, my stomach protesting that I gave it a small taste and then didn't keep feeding it.

Luckily we don't run for long and I fill it so full of water it doesn't have room to gurgle at me anymore.

I pull out leaves, chewing as Thivoll deftly grabs a half dozen aquatic creatures and throws them down his throat. Luckily one at a time so I don't gag.

His jaw doesn't have to open as wide, but I'm still not the least bit accustomed to it by the time he finishes.

I try not to think about how they must be squirming around still. I heave at a fleeting image, then shut off that line of thought and go back to chewing.

And chewing some more.

Salads are time consuming to eat, but this is even worse.

"So you are a ruminant species," he comments.

I swallow the latest round of bitter leaves, trying not to choke as I imagine myself as a sheep.

"Uh, no. We only chew and swallow once. But we do need to chew thoroughly."

"No additional set of teeth or grinders in your stomach?"

My jaw drops open and I'm instantly burning with curiosity. "No. How do they work? Is it mid-digestion or pre-digestion? Is it an additional jaw-like structure? Is it—"

He interrupts me with regret in his voice. "I wish we had time to discuss it, but we need to start stalking. It may take some time. I'll keep a slow pace while you ruminate . . . I mean chew."

I climb on his back, my legs tight around him and only one hand buried in his mane so I can keep eating. An image of an alpaca riding a lion pops into my head and I snort in amusement.

"Are you well?"

I get my ridiculous grin under control. "Oh, yes. Just entertaining myself with silly images."

He purrs in response.

Thivoll seems to appreciate my odd humor. We set off at a rolling pace. I keep steadily eating and then whisper to him I'm done so we can begin our run.

I'm sad I have to contain my whoop of joy as he begins his smooth gallop through the trees. Each dodge and jump causes a jolt of adrenaline. After letting myself enjoy the sensation for a few precious moments, our continually precarious situation weighs on my mind again.

I have so many questions with no answers and it seems like Thivoll has at least some of them.

I lean forward so I can talk as quietly as possible. "What can you tell me about the genali?"

He growls, the rumble of his displeasure passing up my spine. "I wish I knew less about their methods. We've tried to keep ourselves isolated, hoping they'd simply find us unappealing, but it hasn't worked."

"Have they attacked your home world?"

"No. They pick at the edges like scavengers. Mostly they attack vessels, but sometimes they make it through planetary defenses to make a raid."

"I'm sorry to hear that. For slaves?"

"Not exactly. They've been killing us for sport for many years, but generally they come to steal our technology. We don't make good slaves. Which is why we weren't prepared for the recent uptick in abductions. There are now two males to each female."

"That's terrible."

He hums in response. I suppose there isn't much you can say about losing a quarter of your population.

"It feels rude to ask, but why don't you make good slaves? You're strong and I assume your females are beautiful if they look anything like you."

My face burns once I realize how my mouth got ahead of my mind.

He chuffs. "Thank you. Our females are definitely attractive. It has to do with how we respond to captivity. Males enrage to the point of destroying everything around us, including ourselves, rather than allow ourselves to be caged. Females are also difficult to capture, but rarely enrage. They simply waste away until they die."

A pain stabs my heart and dread spiders up my spine. "So your cousins . . ."

I can't finish the thought. It's too horrible to contemplate.

"Yes, they are likely dead. Unless they've been stored in cryochambers. But either way, they are irretrievable once they leave our system so we mourn as soon as we find out."

"If you are advanced enough that they steal from you, why don't you strike back?"

"The short answer is politics, but that doesn't tell you much. My ancestors were once bloodthirsty. Expanding out into nearby star systems. Picking fights with other species over resources. Fighting amongst themselves. We're a species particularly suited to dominating others. We gave it up, painfully, and now we fear it returning."

"That makes sense, I guess. Was it really that bad?"

"Well, we never stooped to the level of the despotic races like the genali and braceaaer. There was a code we followed, however barbaric it might seem now, and we didn't torture, rape, or sell anyone into slavery. That said, many people died. Some planets were destroyed. It was such a difficult cultural transition for us that no one wants to lose what we gained."

"I see your point, actually. Humans don't have claws or venom and I know we couldn't be trusted if given the opportunity to take over the universe."

"Exactly. It left us vulnerable, though."

My forehead wrinkles. "But it sounds like you have some sort of defenses, so it isn't complete pacifism. The line seems drawn in a weird place. What's the harm in being more proactive?"

He chuffs. "I agree. They were still debating it last I heard, but I think this will bring us out of slumber. But not without fear and a lot of restrictions, especially ones on non-Abstainer males."

I wait, but he doesn't elaborate.

"And they are . . .?"

"Sorry. It's usually not a topic you discuss when you first meet someone. Being vague is a habit. It all comes down to our venom. And how using it can be addictive."

"Oh . . . Oh! It can lead to wars just for the opportunity to use it more."

"Excellent deduction. Abstainers remove the temptation along with the tip of the tail."

I grimace at the brutality, even as I understand the thought process. "At the risk of being culturally insensitive . . . I think if you're missing that many women, addiction is the lesser evil compared to extinction."

"Indeed. I hope our government realizes that before all the women we love are gone. You would think even one would have been enough, but no."

He falls silent after that. I loosen my grip with one hand and stroke along his neck.

There's nothing I could say that would help ease that pain and tears well in my eyes at the thought of it.

Then it opens the door to my own trauma and sadness is replaced with the ever-present horror of memory.

Of the women I vowed to protect.

I've done almost nothing to follow through with that promise and it feels like a lead weight on my shoulders.

My chest feels tight with each breath as each one of their faces drift into my mind.

It's been such a short time, but their features have already started to blur. Except for their vivid hair colors and my stomach clenches at the idea of that becoming their identity. I need them with me again, but this time out of their cages so they can become individuals.

Anything short of that would be losing them completely, just like I lost Navy.

My mind circles on wild plans, what-ifs, terrible memories, and the weight of responsibility in endless loops as Thivoll continues to move us through the forest.