Page 37 of Taken to Voraxia
“That is to protect you,” I snarl. “Younglings have these restrictions to their sires. Mates have these restrictions to one another often. I would not dare venture into a dangerous territory without informing you of my actions first. It is your right to be aware.”
“But that’s different. You choosing to tell me is different than me having no choice. Think about it. If you wanted to leave me, you could just fly us back to that colony and dump me where you took me from. You could take me back to your ship and jettison me out into the wide open galaxy.
“You could sell me now if you wanted to. You’ve already made it clear that I’m yours and that I’m not going anywhere. You can leave me anytime you want and there’s nothing I could do to stop it, but I’m not allowed to leave you.”
Her voice is passionless and intelligent as she delves down to the root of our transaction, a transaction born of Xanaxana, one that supersedes everything. But she does not understand. She recites facts, but there is so much more, so muchdeeper.
She speaks as if I am not irrevocably bound to her, as she should be to me. We have consummated our mating. I have spent seed inside of her, but she acts as if it is nothing more than the price paid for a slave at auction.
I woulddiefor her. I yearn for her pleasure and the pleasures I know she knows how to give. How can I make her see that it is not pact that compels me but something greater?
That she does not understand our bond makes me tremble in rage. I do not know what color my ridges are in this moment, because I have never felt a torment so great.
I grunt and turn forwards again to face the never-ending canopy that comprises my planet’s skyline. I have no words to tell her because I know that nothing I could say would change her mind. She does not feel the current of Xanaxana in the same way I do, if she even feels it at all. And perhaps she never will. But it does not matter. We do not have to like one another. She will still be my mate and if she has to be, bound to me like a slave to its master. I wince at the thought.
“Nox,” I say, voice dripping with molten reien farrn, the pink rock that powers Voraxia’s core, “you are not allowed to leave.”
I am crushed like the snapping jaws of the mighty zyth beast around a spine, at the thought that she wants to. That if, without our pact, she would.
10
Miari
Xoran is totally silent for the rest of the ride. I wish I could say that I enjoyed the silence and the time to myself out from under his curious gaze, but I don’t enjoy the silence and even if my intention was to hurt, provoke and offend him, a weird part of me is starting to regret it. I’ve never seen him like this before.
There’s no emotion in him whatsoever and all I’ve seen from him since I first met him one rotation ago are his brightly colored ridges brimming with it. Anger, lust, rage, pleasure, fear, curiosity, displeasure, misunderstanding, distrust, concern. All in colors from copper to indigo, yellow to lime, pink to sapphire to the monotonous blue-green hue of the treetops below. Like Xoran’s greyer skin, they betray absolutely nothing of what’s beneath.
I want to ask about them and what they are and why the leaves are so small, yet densely clustered and how they trap in heat and if they are so dense, how they let in sunlight.
I want to ask him why, if the outer atmosphere is so cold, he doesn’t seem to be so interested in wearing any clothing. Doesn’t he feel the same chill I do? He mentioned it before.Not that I mind…
I want to know about his home world and if this is where he grew up and if the glider is powered by the same pink liquid I found in the thermal gauge and if it is, what it’s called and what it’s called even if it’s not.
But I don’t ask him any of these things. Because he doesn’t seem to want me here anymore. Or maybe…and it’s a strange thing to think…maybe I didn’t just poke and provoke him. Maybe I hurt his feelings. But I didn’t do anything wrong. So I don’t try to make it right.
Instead, I keep quiet and stand apart from him towards the edge of the glider and I watch the tops of trees as they approach, nearer and nearer now until we slowly begin descending among them.
My pulse starts tapping double time, and I feel the makings of a small smile start to slip across my face. I bite the insides of my cheeks to try to keep it at bay, but I’m leaning forward onto my toes, towards the glider’s translucent, glimmering exoskeleton, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I press my hands to its shimmery surface, wanting to see everything there is to see.
I’ve never been off the colony. Never seen anything besides the renderings done of Ancient Earth, from the galaxy that we inhabited before. After its collapse, and some of the humans escaped to a distant star — Voraxia’s star — a few sketches and books became all that’s left of an entire planet’s history.
The ancient texts describe huge buildings made out of metal and glass and streets made out of hard black material with ground transporters whizzing across them. Is that what I’ll find here? Slick, metal buildings powered by Voraxian technology? Beautiful hand carved plastic and chrome?
We descend beneath the canopy and my answer unfolds.No. Instead, I find something else entirely. The canopy is dense, but it isn’t thick — twice the width of the glider or so — and below the canopy, the bark on the trees is a beautiful, jewel red. I imagine if I stood right next to one, I might just camouflage against it.
The branches that support so much foliage connect to an impossibly thick, smooth trunk that only gets thicker the farther down we travel. So thick around that I can imagine our glider docking itself fully inside of one…and as we descend further still, two gliders, three…the whole blasted ship we arrived in!
The trees are huge! And where is the floor of this forest? I look down but all I see is the trunk of the tree beside us. “Are we…” I start. I glance over at him and he turns away quickly. I shake my head. “Nevermind.”
We must travel down for an eighth span — maybe even longer, before I finally see a color other than red. I see white. What is it? Is it one of these concrete passageways that existed in Ancient Earth? The thought thrills me, but is accompanied by a harrowing realization. It isn’t paved, because I can see the trees roots sinking into it sinuously, like great big feet. It’s sand.
I want to laugh. I do laugh.
“What is it, Rakukanna?”
Raku’s voice startles me and I turn towards him, forgetting momentarily about the distance between us. I grab his arm and use it to help me balance. “It’s sand. I thought I might escape sand on another planet, but I guess I’m wrong. Guess I’ll have to go to another galaxy for that.”
I wink and Raku’s lips twitch but the lurching of the glider severs any bridge that might have been forming between us. His hands move back to the holo screen controls and I stare at the ground, watching as white, powdery sand sprays out from under the glider as we finally touch down.
