Page 12 of Ahelno
“It is a lifelong bond,” he replied. “Mates can sense one another, their strong emotions. There is a pull between them all their lives. It is sacred to us as a people.”
“What if I don’t want to be mated?” I asked. “You know I didn’t ask for this.”
The King paused. “You have to understand this has never happened before. The female initiates the mating ritual, and if the male accepts and completes the mating, the bond forms. You did not intend to initiate the ritual, but my son did intend to accept. I am told that he feels the bond.”
“Well, I don’t feel any bond, and I want a divorce,” I snapped. For the first time in weeks, I felt something other than apathy. I had been dragged through enough, and I was tired of being pushed around. If I was going to be stuck on this miserable planet, it would be on my terms.
The King bristled, and his eyes glowed red. He seemed to expand in power, and I realized I had made a serious error. He was the ruler of this planet and not to be trifled with. I had forgotten that I was essentially at his mercy. He paused and shook like a dog after a bath. The crest on his headsettled as he calmed himself. “I understand the term divorce from our interactions with other alien beings, but that is not a procedure that exists here. I do not know of any way to dissolve a mating bond. Again, this is new territory for us as well.
I kept my thoughts on that to myself, determined to show a little more caution, given I would be homeless without the King’s goodwill. “So what happens now?” I asked.
“You have essentially mated into the royal family. I did not wish to push you at first, given your…difficult introduction to our society, but all members of our family have certain duties to our people. I will move you to the cottage as you wish, so you have your own territory, unencumbered by reminders of your ordeal. In exchange for the provision of all your needs, I will expect you to attend training in Ptexari court protocol at the palace. You will be instructed in our history and culture. And you will attend various events as a representative of the royal family.”
I did not want to do this. I wanted to go to the new cottage and be left alone. But I recognized I was completely dependent on the King. He could turn me out, and there would be no telling what happened to me then.
“I believe you need purpose, Andrea of Earth,” he pushed. “You tell me that your people are susceptible to maladies of the mind. Your mind has not been occupied, so it instead tortures you and forces you to relive your worst moments. I believe these duties will be beneficial to you.”
I sighed. He was probably right. Nothing good had come of me lying about, crying in bed for the past weeks. The nightmares kept me up, and the endless days staring at the wall just made me listless and reminded me of how lonely Iwas. This was the first real conversation I’d had since the day I arrived. My fingers traced over the pink line on my forearm.
“Ok,” I said softly. “I agree.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Now, daughter, I must leave. Pack anything you wish to take with you. My guards will take you whenever you are ready.”
“Ok,” I said. The servants had left clothing for me in the drawers of my room, so I would take some of that. Other than that, I wanted nothing from this place. I’d be ready to leave in under ten minutes.
CHAPTER 13
I rode in another six-wheeled vehicle with a ridiculously tall guard who barely fit in his side. Hunched over, his crest was squished against the ceiling, and a giggle escaped me. We both jolted at the sound. I hadn’t laughed in weeks. I had forgotten how good it felt. “Sorry, Markal,” I said (he had introduced himself to me earlier). “You just look so uncomfortable, and it looks a bit silly to me.”
“No offense taken, Lumanela,” he replied. “The legends say your voices are magic, and your laughter feels good on my skin, so it must be true.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but let it go as I took in my surroundings. I eyed the landscape with more interest than my last voyage, noting the beauty of the red and gold striations in the rock formations outside my window. They reminded me of pictures I’d seen of sandstone canyons in Utah, although with the ever-present green and purple moss, the surroundings didn’t seem quite so desolate.
We shortly passed through a village, and I looked about with interest. “This is not the village where you will reside. Your cottage is in the next one,” Markal informed me. “You can walk to the palace in about half a centine. We generally fly, which is much faster.” I had gathered that a centine was alittle over one hour.
About fifteen minutes later, another village came into view. It was pleasant enough, with red stone buildings that matched the canyons we had passed. I imagined they quarried stone from there. We turned down a path and stopped in front of a small domed structure. Markal helped me unbuckle the harness, and we both exited the vehicle.
He showed me how to enter the dwelling through the biometric panel on the front. “Everything is already keyed to you,” he explained. Inside was a small, round entryway. “This is the formal receiving room. All our homes have them,” Markal said. It was a surprisingly Earth-like setup, with multiple, colorful cushions grouped in pairs for seating and small tables in front of each pair.
“This is the cooking area,” he continued as he walked through the house. The kitchen had a lot of unfamiliar appliances, ample counter space, and a low table with two cushions on the side.
He walked me through the cold and dry storage areas, something that reminded me of a wood-burning pizza oven, the sink for water, and most importantly a food replicator. “The cooking area has all of the appliances for traditional cooking, but many Ptexari prefer to simply use the replicator. It is voice-activated, so you can ask it to make almost anything. I don’t know if it’s programmed for human foods, though.”
He pointed to a panel on the wall. “This is the communications panel for the dwelling. The King had it upgraded so it also serves as an instructional guide. You have access to all the same data as the royal family, except some of the sensitive security data.”
“How does it work?” I asked.
“You can ask the panel anything. Just say something like, “Computer, describe the Ptexari moon festival.” The panel flashed and showed a video of hundreds of Ptexari in bright-colored skirts circling a fire. “The Ptexari moon festival is celebrated when the planet’s three moons align, occurring approximately once every four solar revolutions. The festival is a three-day event marked by sports competitions, special foods,…” “Computer, Stop” Markal said. “You can ask it anything. This will help you to learn anything you want about our people and customs. The panel can also help with daily tasks, such as setting your robots to clean at certain times of the day. You can ask for a list of available commands to learn the interface.”
So it was a supercharged Alexa. Got it.
Moving to the side of the kitchen, Markal pointed out the sanitizing room and the bedroom, which featured a nest of pillows and blankets as opposed to a bed. It looked surprisingly inviting. The backyard had a greenhouse structure for growing vegetables and a decent-sized fenced yard. I wondered what most Ptexari did with their yards. This one was pretty empty, other than the greenhouse.
After Markal left, I took some time to explore the greenhouse, which included several growing plants, none of which I recognized, of course. I had no idea what was edible.
I successfully procured from the replicator a cup of the bitter tea Lanicar had shared with me. It made me feel a bit better. Restorative properties, and all, I thought. I asked if it had any foods available from Earth, and strangely enough, it offered a chocolate bar. It was surprisingly good, and I hummed a bit as I ate it. I wondered how it had that in the system, and why it had nothing else.
The comms panel had a wealth of information, and it was fairly easy to navigate. I asked for information that it had on humans, and it had some, but not much. Evidently, most of the information was sourced from another human captive named Edith who had died a long time ago. I was sad for her, but grateful that even this much information was available. Edith’s favorite foods from the planet she was taken to (Efowid) had been cataloged, for example, so I asked for the replicator to make as many of those as it could. The tasting menu it presented was a lot of shades of brown, but I was determined to try. Some was surprisingly good, and I had the replicator make notes of the things I felt I could eat. Whether any of this would be nutritionally valuable to my body remained to be seen.
