“While I appreciate this, should you not be protecting the excitable young woman here with you, Alice?” Sentaura asked neutrally as she and Lachlan returned to the fields following an hour of shelter in the forest for lunch and relaxation at the height of the day’s heat.
“Yer right, that is my job,” Lachlan acknowledged, filling two buckets at the aqueduct pool as they nodded and waved at various other farmers going about their business. “But the lass finally accepted my advice and took my pistol. She’ll be fine; not ta mention she’s always runnin’ around faster than I can keep track of. Besides, near as I can tell yer people are all warm an’ friendly with her on account of her brother. You and yer wee fluffy lad have been very acceptin’ of me. So thanks.”
“I suppose that’s fair. Rumors have it that she is a keeper of all kinds of benevolent magics; moreso than others of your species, I suppose. That is a… welcome change,” Sentaura acknowledged as they returned to her plot, watering crops and checking for weeds. “Oh, I do believe congratulations are in order? I apologize for not offering them sooner. I am sure the two of you will have many healthy children.”
MacGregor almost lost both buckets as his mouth dropped open, barely catching them before they doused the soil beneath his feet or crushed a plant or two. “I think there’s been a wee mistake, Sentaura.”
“How so? I saw the two of you yesterday in the forest as you comforted her. Her fur is glossy and her complexion seems appealing, though I must admit that the concept of human beauty remains foreign to me. Your children would likely have fur the color of Ursol’s. I approve of that as well,” Sentaura explained.
“I hate ta burst yer bubble, Sentaura, but we aren’t seein’ one another,” Lachlan clarified immediately. His statement seemed to truly surprise her.
"You and she do not mate?"
"No. We don't have sex," Lachlan clarified, mollified only by the fact that he was discussing his private affairs with a curious alien and not a human woman.
"And you are not pledged to one another?" Sentaura sought further information. MacGregor shook his head.
"Nay. We're just friends." He wasn’t sure if he was at all convincing.
"Is that so? How curious," the Cauthan took it in stride, turning her attention to her crops as she inspected leaves and growing vegetables. Her abrupt satisfaction left Lachlan flat-footed, but he couldn't complain about the cessation of unwanted questioning. "I suppose that's a relief in some way. It would be difficult to explain to Ursol that you were leaving to live with her. He is too fragile," Sentaura sighed and shook her head, casting a defeated look at the ground. "I am sorry for bothering you with such things."
"It's hardly a bother. You and the wee lad have been through a lot. If anything’, I’m sorry to have complicated things," Lachlan said quietly as a breeze ruffled the plants around them and the trees of the forest swayed gently in the warm air. Seil was hot but not unbearable. He wanted to say more but he knew it was not his place. He wanted to say it was alright, that Ursol's behavior was natural given the circumstances. But he didn't know that, nor did he know what sort of expectations would fall upon the young Cauthan's shoulders as he grew older. The two of them stood quietly for a while, not saying or moving much on account of the pleasant weather and species barrier. That was until one of the acolytes of Meylith ran through the open north gate, panting and clutching her dress so as not to trip herself up. The on duty guardsman had already dissolved into laughter as Ursol led the young woman on what he surely considered was a merry chase, giggling happily as he made for the fields.
"Ursol! You get back here this instant!" She shrieked, much to the young lad’s delight. Lachlan handed his empty buckets to Sentaura.
“If ye would excuse me, fluffy lass,” he offered with a wink, doing his best to move unassumingly through the fields until he was near the span of well-trodden earth that separated the fields north and west of the village from those to the north and east. When the time was right he simply walked out in front of the scampering little Cauthan, who stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Lachlan so close by. Eventually the full ramifications of his actions seemed to catch up with him and he made to bolt for the greenery, but no pint-sized Cauthan could hope to outmatch an HEL Marine. The acolyte rested her hands on her knees and began sucking in deep breaths as Lachlan held the boy by his armpits at arm’s length. “Now then, why don’t ya tell me what this is all about, fluffy lad?”
Ursol blubbered sadly for a few moments before sniffling and devolving into full on tears as Sentaura approached and stood just to Lachlan’s side. “Ursol…” she began threateningly. Lachlan glanced at her quickly and shook his head.
“Do ya think we should hear what the boy has ta say for himself first?” The Marine offered. Sentaura looked ready to claw him for his audacity, but Ursol miraculously began to apologize.
“S-sorry, unca Lach,” he managed, rubbing his eyes with one of his paws. He was beginning to lose the fur on his forearms and hands, making way for the scales that marked every male Cauthan.
“Why are ye apologizin’ ta me, Ursol?” Lachlan questioned, taking the boy in one arm and pointing to Gentia’s acolyte. “Don’t ya think that’s who should be gettin’ yer apology?”
The young Cauthan did not look at her, but he did manage to obey MacGregor’s suggestion. “Sorry C-Centy.”
“That is Centille, Ursol. And his name is Lachlan. Try them again,” Sentaura insisted sternly. “You will be five years old soon.” And so Ursol was made to repeat ‘Lachlan’ and ‘Centille’ until his mother was satisfied. The moment the Marine offered to take him back to the Temple, Sentaura flared her feathers in annoyance and turned back to her fields. “Ursol, we will speak about this tonight.”
And so Lachlan found himself transporting a small, sad ball of fluff through the village. Once they were out of Sentaura’s earshot he spoke to the boy, who was sniffling quietly into his shoulder. “Why’d ye run off like that, laddie?” He asked softly. “And use your full words, we have plenty o’ time.”
“I-I don’t like the temple,” Ursol told him. “I wanna play.”
“Can’t ye play with all the other lads and lasses?” Lachlan wondered as Centille kept up silently. Ursol began crying louder.
“It’s not the same as d-d-daddy,” the cub managed. Lachlan closed his eyes and began petting the kid’s head with his free hand.
“And what games did ya play with yer dad?” He asked the cub. Ursol tried to dry his tears and answer.
“H-hunting games,” the child replied. The Marine looked a question at Centille.
“His father was a hunter,” was all she would say. Lachlan nodded quietly, understanding well enough why Ratha, an otherwise hardened individual, seemed to have a soft spot for Ursol and his mother. Even so, that didn’t mean that any of the other hunters had stepped in as a surrogate father, at least not so far as he could tell. He didn’t blame them. Most of them left the village at or before the crack of dawn from what he could tell. He made a mental note to ask Natori if the Event Horizon was capable of monitoring individual hunters, a measure to ensure Ursol’s tragedy would not be repeated under their watch.
“Ursol, I’ll make ye a deal,” Lachlan offered the cub. “You go back to the temple now and behave for the rest of the day. If Miss Centille here tells me you’ve been good, you and I will play some hunter games tonight.”
Delighted at the possibility of play, Ursol hugged Lachlan around the neck. “Ok, ok!” He repeated over and over as the human looked at his caregiver.
“If he misbehaves, let me or Sentaura know about it,” Lachlan insisted. Centille was happy to agree to the terms, relieved at the prospect of not having to track down runaways again.
“Of course, human. Thank you.”
Further conversation was arrested as they pulled up to a sizable congregation outside of the temples in the eastern half of the village. Gentia and Yvonne Dupuis were relaxing just outside the temple of Meylith. Lachlan nodded to them both as Ursol was returned to Centille and the two of them headed inside without further fuss.
“I must say, having another male human around seems to have its perks. Thank you, young man,” Gentia offered sincerely.
“Mum, Madame, good day to ye both,” he replied formally before updating Gentia on the situation with Ursol. The matrons nodded to one another.
“We don’t have enough males,” Gentia acknowledged sadly. “Hunting, killing, fighting fires…when I think of how many we lost in the last year alone I wonder if any of us will remain in a generation or two. Lachlan MacGregor, I have no authority to ask this of you, but please do what you can for him. He desperately needs the guidance of one of his own, even if you are not Cauthan. Ratha will be able to tell you what you need to know. If she gives you any trouble you come right back here and I will deal with her,” she finished, brandishing her cane like a fencing foil. Yvonne and Lachlan chuckled merrily.
“As the mother of two boys, I am more than willing to admit that once they hit three or four they began to run me ragged,” Yvonne added sagely, playing around with her tablet to ensure Gentia could hear her translations appropriately. She glanced over at the temple of Kel, where a large gathering of Cauthan had remained for most of the day. “Well, if the concept of glasses takes off to the extent that it already seems to have, perhaps we can arrange for personalized translation devices.”
“Is that what that’s all about?” MacGregor wondered. “I’m guessin’ the little piece Alice put together for yer husband was a hit?” Gentia smiled so genuinely Yvonne swore she regressed in age.
“I do not remember a time when the light of life was so bright in his eyes,” the small Cauthan elder reported approvingly. “And it does not surprise me one bit to see half the village milling about there. She is doing well for herself. I am sorry that you have been made to wait, Yvonne.”
“It is no trouble, Gentia. If anything it is my fault for not checking my patient’s schedule beforehand.”
“The bushy-tailed lass with the big ol’ belly?” Lachlan inquired.
“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Came a voice from behind him. The Marine went white as a sheet as Yvonne and Gentia had themselves a fine laugh at his expense. Turning, he found Asha cradling her swollen tummy along with the elegant, blonde Cauthan who had been a part of the welcoming party on his first day in the village.
“But he’s not exactly wrong now, is he?” Alyra posited, waving her feathers in greeting to them all. “So this is the human you spoke of, Gentia?”
“Doctor Yvonne Dupuis at your service, madame. I am an expert on the care of pregnant women and infants. And you must be Asha.” Yvonne bowed at her in lieu of more traditional human greetings.
“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Alyra, you know you didn’t have to come all this way with me,” the young Cauthan insisted. Her master threw her a coy smile.
“No, but I have a few words for that Alice human and her insistence on spending all her time with those stuffy death priests. No offense, Gentia,” Alyra finished with a carefree fluff of her feathers.
“One day those feathers of yours will gray and fall out, and your coat will not shine as it does now. In those years you will find that ‘stuffiness’ has its virtue,” Gentia replied wisely as Lachlan did his best to pretend he was not there.
“Ha, by that time I’m sure the Twins will take me,” Alyra replied without concern. “Asha?”
“I’ll be just fine, Alyra. Thank you. Gentia will be with me.”
“Great! Then I’m off to get in on a bit of magic myself. See you later!” Alyra departed with a flick of her thin, silky tail. Lachlan soon found himself alone in the street, with both Gentia and Yvonne much more focused on Asha than him. He bade them farewell before looking about, at a loss for what to do.
“Oh, Private MacGregor. Good day to you,” Antoth called out to him.
“Antoth, sir!” Lachlan fashioned a salute out of habit. To his surprise the Cauthan touched a couple fingers to his forehead. They smiled thinly at one another.
“Heh, no need for that, but I’m actually glad to run into you here. I was going to ask this of Alice but I believe you are better suited. Could you explain to me why Winters came to me today and demanded he be allowed to clean the outhouses for seven days?”
The Marine tilted his head back in a momentary start of confusion before he put two and two together. Slowly the two men began to laugh, their low, booming voices filling the street as they imagined the mighty Omega Jumper shovelling shit. “I’ll do my best, Antoth. Pretty sure I know what’s goin’ on here,” the Marine assured him.
For a couple minutes Antoth remained quiet, humming and nodding as Lachlan described the concept of latrine duty as punishment with mainly symbolic importance. The Marine attempted to explain that the Jumpers likely saw one another as rivals and that conflict was inevitable. When he was finished Antoth scratched his chin and considered his options. “Can you summon your Admiral to speak with us?”
“I can try, Antoth. Give me a moment,” Lachlan offered, pinging the Event Horizon. About thirty seconds of soft chirping sounds later, Natori’s voice came over the line. Lachlan fiddled around for a moment, ensuring that English would go only into his own ears and that any projected sound would be translated. He swore to ask Alice about translators after speaking with Ratha.
“Antoth? How may I help you? Is there a problem?” Natori asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
“No, Admiral. Thankfully there is not. I was just… what is the right word?”
“Calling?” Lachlan supplied. Antoth shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose so. I was calling to inform you that I am nullifying the punitive measures directed at Winters. Your vessel is your own, but in my village his actions merit no punishment.” Antoth’s tone was tactful but firm, and Natori replied shortly thereafter.
“I understand. I am of the opinion that allowing him off scot-free would be inappropriate, but in light of your judgment I will suspend his service until such time as he can perform it on the Event Horizon. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes. Thank you, Admiral. That will be all.”
“Ah, if I could jus’ a moment; so long as I have ye both here?” Lachlan cut in. Antoth looked at him with a curious but permissive gaze.
“Go ahead Private MacGregor,” Natori encouraged.
“I was thinkin’, sir. Can we track the hunters that head out from the village each day?” Lachlan questioned.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t. Trees are what they are but my watchstanders would love a challenge during the orbital period. Can I ask why you’re asking?” Natori finished curiously.
“You can do such a thing?” Antoth asked worriedly. “Ratha will not be happy.”
“That’s why I’m askin’ instead o’ tellin’,” Lachlan clarified. “I don’t mean to intrude on anyone, Antoth, but I’m livin’ with Sentaura, ya know?”
“I do,” the Sun Priest replied shortly. It was clear they all understood the need for his dour tone.
“And I was just thinkin’ things might have been different for the wee laddie if his dad had a Jumper lookin’ out for him,” Lachlan suggested hesitantly. “I know things are difficult aboard the ship right now, sir. But if another of em gets into trouble?”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Admiral, just what is your soldier suggesting?” Antoth demanded sternly, feeling a bit lost at the mention of Jumpers.”
“Indeed. Antoth, I believe that Private MacGregor is suggesting in the event one of your hunters runs into trouble we might dispatch aid to him or her most swiftly. He is describing what Russell Winters, and the individuals he came in conflict with today, were trained for.”
Another pause fell between them as Antoth crossed his arms over his chest, growling in quiet contemplation. Coming to a conclusion, he gestured to Lachlan. “I would like you to speak with my mate, Private MacGregor. Admiral, I will call on you again regarding this matter.”
“As you say, Antoth,” Natori agreed. “Good luck, Private. Ratha is a rather imposing woman.”
Antoth laughed as the Admiral disconnected. “Maybe so, but wipe that hesitant look of your face, human. I think she might enjoy this idea once she gets over the idea of your people being demi-gods.”
-----
“Xan, help me!” Alice pleaded, finding herself the subject of Alyra’s scrutinizing gaze. The apprentice death priest shrugged.
“What do you want me to do? She’s obviously not here for us,” he pointed out. The Priestess of the Twins had been allowed to the front of the line rather quickly, where she proceeded to observe the latter half of an eye examination for one of the villagers. Alice had taken some quick notes regarding prescription, interpupillary distance, width of the nasal bridge, gender, and name before allowing the Cauthan to pick from a small selection of frames that were easy to manufacture. Xan, at Thantis’ behest, was playing the role of assistant while his master looked on with pride, constantly extending his own glasses into the light of day before retracting them and examining the shifting shade of the transition lenses.
“No, I am most certainly not. While your scruffiness may do Uthos and Kel proud I cannot say the Twins would feel the same,” Alyra agreed.
“The Twins can stuff it then, or give me a new ear,” Xan replied without concern. Thantis watched closely, but said nothing. Alice agreed that the comeback was, at a minimum, provoked. Alyra swished her tail once and turned to Alice.
“Alice, dear, why are you spending your days here with dusty scrolls and males? Did we not agree that you would come visit and we would see to the changing of my fur color?” Alyra reminded her sweetly, with a hint of accusation. Alice laughed nervously.
“I was going to, I promise. Things just got a little out of hand here with the glasses situation.”
‘And in terms of priority, making you look like a flamingo is the last thing Alice should be focused on,’ Io agreed, commandeering Alice’s tablet to present herself. The vision test gave way to a well dressed Cauthan sporting a human-styled ball gown in deep forest green, an obvious challenge-cum-greeting to the Priestess. ‘Oh, this is a flamingo by the way,’ she remembered, displaying a video of a flock of the bright pink birds. Thantis was there in a flash, adjusting his glasses.
“My word! Magnificent. What a color! Is that natural?” He was a veritable font of questions.
‘I assure you it is, Thantis. Their feathers are that way on account of their diet. Now Alice, I have come to your aid because I was bored. And because there is now enough HEL tech in the vicinity for me to ping myself around from Russell’s home. He’s taking a nap.’
Alice and Xan glanced at once another, sharing an unspoken agreement that the idea of Russell Winters taking a nap was strange and unexpected. Io carried on, waving at a few Cauthan behind Alyra who were always eager to catch a glimpse of the guardian spirit of Kel’s avatar. ‘Now then, before anyone gets their feathers bent out of shape might I propose the following? Alice, I see that while you have dutifully been taking notes on your patients you have only generated orders for villagers with a need for corrective lenses. I think all farmers could benefit from transition lenses for the purposes of UV protection if nothing else. Furthermore, if we make a few adjustments we can transition this data into an anonymized profile of various biological properties of this village’s population. I have already done so using some of the spare capacity in your brother’s armor. With your permission I will continue to add to it as this endeavor grows. Oh, and don’t worry Alyra. I didn’t forget you.’
With a devious smile and a snap of her fingers, Io disappeared, replaced by a slowly scrolling set of images. All of them were glasses frames with varying levels of aesthetic properties. They ranged from decidedly utilitarian to something one might expect to find on the red carpet. Alyra was roped in immediately, squatting next to Xan so she could get as good a view as possible. Delight and need burned simultaneously in her eyes as she considered each new option in turn. Suddenly she shouted gleefully and poked the display with her finger, highlighting a set of frames. They were sleek tortoiseshell ovals with a teal hue on the reflective surface and pointed accents on each upper corner. “Consider yourself forgiven, Alice, but I would still love to know how your fur is so silky and long. When can I expect this?”
“Please, have a seat and we’ll begin your examination then,” Xan offered with excess politeness. Alyra allowed it to pass without comment as she did so, intrigued by the symbols that had reappeared on the tablet. As Io prepared a line entry for her measurements, Alice looked to the Cauthan who had been next in line.
“Do you mind?” She asked politely. “I know you were next.” After receiving assurance that it was very much ok and that they needed to decide on what sort of frames they wanted, Alice smiled and turned back to Alyra.
“I am quite ready,” the Cauthan assured her.
“Great. Oh, and before we begin please do your best on this test. Even if your vision is perfect we can design lenses that have no magnification,” Alice insisted. Alyra clapped her hands together as Thantis scribbled away behind them.
“Any chance we can get the old man one of these?” Xan wondered with a gesture at Alice’s tablet. He began the vision test process he’d already been through a couple dozen times since that morning. It was a bit dull, but Thantis had stressed early and often that to serve Kel was to serve others. In that, he found agreement.
“And then Gentia could skin us both because he never goes to sleep?” Alice laughed as Thantis hummed loudly, seeming to acknowledge the point. “Let’s stick with the glasses and lantern for now. Io?”
‘I have already made a reminder for Veera to approach Staroth and Antoth regarding the lantern situation. There are quite a few Cauthan with perfect vision in this dataset already. Perhaps unsurprisingly it seems to rest around twenty fifteen. Ah well, I am sure they will be back soon enough when they learn everyone is getting a pair. Would you like me to request that Natori send more crew to help in this effort?’
“Let’s just see how today goes,” Alice decided. “Now then Alyra, I want you to tell me which direction this arrow is pointing. Please remain seated and don’t lean forward.”
-----
“Wait here,” Antoth ordered softly, leaving Lachlan MacGregor just outside of a small leather-covered doorway at the back of the hunter’s lodge. After a brief moment of conversation within, during which the Marine had a chance to gaze about at tools, meat, and trophies, the village chieftain re-emerged along with his wife. Lachlan nodded his head respectfully.
“Good day to ye, Ratha.”
“What do you want, human?” She demanded in a blunt tone, only to have Antoth grip her shoulder tightly.
“This is not Winters. He is here to help your hunters and Sentaura’s boy,” Antoth provided needed clarification. Ratha, clad in leather and fur that she’d altered and stitched together as something of a beginner’s maternity outfit, brushed his paw away.
“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place, scarface?” She snapped. “What’s your name again?”
“Lachlan MacGregor, at yer service,” the Marine replied, leaving Ratha silent for a long while. He could just make note of her lips moving subtly, trying to pronounce his name. In the end she gave up, spinning to head back to her abode.
“Let’s talk then, human.”
Antoth let out something of an unintelligible grumble at Ratha’s thorniness, but Lachlan did what he could to take it in stride. After being seated and declining polite offers for a beverage, Lachlan began explaining to Ratha what he’d attempted to describe for Antoth earlier in the day. In a stunning show of civility, she allowed the Marine to finish before tearing the idea to pieces.
“Yes that’s just what I need, all my hunters getting soft, fat, and lazy because they know that if they run into trouble humans will drop from the sky and save them. Even if you could do something like that my answer is no,” she declared with finality.
“Ratha, be reasonable,” Antoth implored, resting his chin on his hand.
“I am being reasonable!” The Huntress snapped back, anger slowly bubbling up in her eyes. “How much more charity will you accept before you are eating from the palm of their furless hands? You were selected to lead us, not sell us out to aliens!”
Antoth closed his eyes and mulled over his next words carefully, quite aware that they had a relatively unknown human in the room with them. He finally replied in a forced and level tone. “Perhaps it is best if we move on, Lachlan.” Ratha huffed in annoyance as her mate proved capable of pronouncing the strange name. “We will discuss this matter further in private.”
“We will do no such thing,” Ratha insisted.
“We will,” Antoth brokered no argument. “And now we will move on to the subject of Ursol who has apparently been driving Gentia and her acolytes up the walls of late.”
MacGregor found himself scratching his head, a subconscious attempt to do anything rather than remain still and be a subject of Ratha’s scrutiny. Pregnant or not, it was clear to him why she was the leader of her chosen profession. He cleared his throat and continued, hoping the change in subject would at least partially alleviate the tense atmosphere. “Impressed as I am that he made it to the north gate and all, I think the wee lad misses his father somethin’ awful. I asked him about his friends an’ why he won't play with em. He said he misses ‘hunter games’. Given I’m not a hunter myself I figured I’d ask,” he recounted.
“And you intend to play these games with him?” Ratha demanded sharply, not bothering to hide her suspicion. Lachlan nodded, running his thumb and forefinger through his beard as he stroked his chin.
“Someone’s gotta run the little guy ragged, right? Or are ye sayin’ Sentaura doesn’t want him to get ideas in his head, bein’ like his father and all?”
Ratha sighed and looked off to the side, as if to peer through the walls of her temple. “She’s no huntress, but I always liked Sentaura. No nonsense, good figure, hard worker. She should have had a whole litter of cubs with him, not just the one.” The Huntress paused, casting a most weighty gaze at her own mate. “And before you jump down my throat, Antoth, I will stop hunting soon.”
“Pending a conversation with Winters so I could understand more, if the humans were watching over you I might not mind so much,” he countered. She scoffed and shook her feathers at him.
“I will stop hunting soon,” she said again. “The humans will not control me. But this is not about our cub, Antoth. I suppose I can understand Sentaura’s fears. She lost her mate and of course her little boy immediately decided he was going to be a hunter too, to head out into that forest and bring his father back. The real world will divest him of that notion soon enough.”
Lachlan remained silent as Antoth and Ratha seemed to converse with eyes and feathers. He had not the faintest idea whether they were trying to debate the dynamics of their own family or what was left of Sentaura’s. After a long span of silence, during which the sounds of butchering, conversation, and street noise filtered into the private space, Ratha leaned back in her chair and smiled at him. It was not a reassuring smile by any stretch of the imagination. He didn’t know much about Ratha other than the fact that she was willing to fire arrows at HEL shuttles and sling knives at HEL Jumpers. All that taken into consideration though, he thought he saw some measure of understanding at the edges of her eyes. “I appreciate that you aren’t a chesko-brained dolt like Winters, so I’ll let you in on a little secret, human. There are no hunter games.”
“I… see,” Lachlan said quietly. Antoth’s shoulders slumped forward.
“And you wonder why I am open to the idea of a human safety net?” He tried tiredly.
“I know why, scarface. And you told me we would discuss that later. Human, whatever it is that little Ursol recalls, it’s nothing more than figments of happier times playing with his father. Perhaps he did call them hunter games. Most young boys enjoy that fantasy and a few even have what it takes. Any real training would begin at the age of seven, if he shows promise. I look forward to hearing about what sort of games you come up with.” Ratha’s soft tone indicated that while she appreciated his presence, the conversation was very much over. Nodding, Lachlan stood from the table and bowed again.
“Thank ye for the advice, Ratha. I’ll be going now. Antoth, good day to you as well.”
“Selah, Private,” Antoth replied, comfortable with the idea of addressing him by rank. “I will come find you should our conclusions regarding your offer change.”
“Of course.”
Ratha and Antoth were left alone as the door flap slowly fluttered and fell still in the wake of Lachlan’s departure, the heavy footfalls of his boots making their way slowly out of the temple and onto the main road outside. Their eyes met.
“Thank you for not going for your knife,” Antoth chuckled. Ratha proceeded to brandish said knife directly at him.
“You just had to bring it up, didn’t you scarface? Whatever, I’m not so dumb to confuse him with Winters, different fur color.”
“Is that what it was?” Her mate wondered, moving to take a sip of water from a large wooden jug that they shared when they had a few moments to relax in Ratha’s quarters. “The fur on his head is the same color as yours.”
“You must be blind. My fur is much more beautiful than his, but it helps,” Ratha admitted with a smirk. “You know what else helps, Antoth? The fact that instead of barging in here and giving me shit about Veera, he came asking how to help one of my hunter’s orphans. Sentaura is going to turn that boy soft… because she is in unimaginable pain. I don’t see any of your former charges stepping up to adopt him. And before you say anything, I know none of mine have either.”
Antoth stood in stunned silence, walking a couple paces to stand next to his mate. He helped her stand and cupped the small swell of her belly. It was not nearly so obvious as Asha’s or a handful of other females who were due around harvest time that year, but the tautness of her skin and the contours of her midriff were unmistakable. “You… never cease to surprise me, Ratha.” Her eyes closed and she grabbed him by the upper arms, accepting his kiss willingly.
“Valta forbid you get bored of me, scarface. Now-”
“Antoth, have you seen this torch? Alice said we could all get one!” Veera gushed, boldly pushing the door flap aside and presenting one of Alice’s spare lanterns proudly. Ratha growled quietly as Antoth tilted his head towards the ceiling.
“Veera, why don’t we discuss this somewhere else?” Antoth offered, turning to find that she at least looked sorry.
“When I saw Lachlan on the way out I just figured… yeah, ok, point taken! Let’s go then,” Veera beat a hasty retreat, not looking to incur Ratha’s ire so shortly after what had transpired on the Event Horizon. She wasn’t sure the Huntress’ show of support for her extended to interruptions of private time.
“Duty calls, sun priest,” Ratha insisted with a sneer before adopting a more conservative air. “And don’t be late for dinner.”
-----
“I really need to stop doing that. I’m sorry,” Veera provided an earnest apology as she and Antoth took a stroll through the village. Such walks were his favored setting for conversations both important and carefree, a way to continually evaluate the state and health of his people.
“Then I accept your apology and assume it won’t happen again,” Antoth replied with little concern. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with you today about the incident. You’re sure you’re fine?”
“I am, Antoth. Don’t think me so helpless,” Veera insisted, straightening her shoulders proudly.
“This isn’t about helplessness. I didn’t get that good of a look, but the humans you had an altercation with didn’t seem to be meek farmers or priests.”
“No, they are supposedly like Russell. That may be so in terms of training but I find them to be hardly like him at all,” Veera declared haughtily. “The Admiral of the ship helped me to remove the broken feathers, which I donated to him. He said that his… we do not have a word for it but the human word is scientist. It is like Thantis, but more specialized. He said that his scientists could learn much from them, so I allowed it.”
“I see,” Antoth said without really ‘seeing’ at all. “These times are… difficult. So what’s this you have here? You called it a torch? Where is its fuel? How does it work?”
“Watch!” Veera replied excitedly. “I just twist this little knob here and-”
Antoth raised his feathers in surprise. He reached for the dial Veera had just been fiddling with. “May I?”
“Sure! Alice said it was designed for harsh conditions, so hopefully that includes a couple of us playing around with it!” Veera said, clearly over the moon at the introduction of seemingly harmless and useful technology into their village from her husband’s people. Antoth was turning the dimmer back and forth, watching closely as the brightness of the pale blue light changed with precision.
“Such fine control,” he mused. “How bright does it go?”
“Wait Antoth, maybe you shouldn’t-” Veera’s warning did not come quickly enough as he cranked the dimmer to max, promptly staggering backward as the lantern put out a prodigious amount of light even during the day. The burly Cauthan snarled in discomfort as he bumped against the wall of a nearby home and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He saw spots as though he’d been staring at Seil itself.
“By Uthos that was bright! Where is its fuel? How does it do that without flame?!” He demanded.
“Alice showed me that too!” Veera replied excitedly, beckoning him over as she turned the lantern off and flipped it upside down.
“You like her, don’t you?” Antoth insisted kindly as Veera worked her claw into the battery compartment’s cover and removed the plastic piece. She handed it to him gently, unaware of the resilience of HEL survival-grade plastics.
“She is my sister by marriage,” the striped Cauthan explained with all due reverence to the institution. “And I believe she truly cares about our people. She is still at the Temple of Kel measuring anyone who approaches for the magical devices she gave Thantis yesterday, the ones that help him see again. They are the talk of the town.”
“Yes, I believe even Alyra got swept up in that,” Antoth recalled, examining the battery that Veera had withdrawn from the lantern. The two of them took turns flipping the lamp on and off, finding the contraption inert without its power source.
“It’s the same device that Russell uses to power his armor and keep Io alive, though he needs more of them. I asked Alice about it, and she said they intentionally designed them to be usable in as many of their strange machines as possible.”
“Interchangeability, yes I can see how that would be useful,” the former guard captain agreed, recalling battles in which he cared not that he had his sword in hand, only that he had a weapon capable of obeying his will. “You believe the guard force would benefit from these?”
“Yes, at least the guards if not the entire village. Imagine being able to work a bit longer at the forge or in the fields or even at home without needing to burn wood,” Veera elaborated. Antoth grunted in agreement as they continued on their walk.
“And the fuel? What happens when it expires?”
“You plug it into a machine that absorbs Seil’s light and… oh what’s the phrase Alice used?” Veera wondered, tapping her chin with an extended claw. “Charging! Yes, that’s the word. It charges itself back up using Seil’s energy. Oh, did I ever tell you that Seil is actually a giant gas furnace? Russell told me,” Veera related excitedly, gazing up at the sky through the gap in the roofs on the narrow street. “It’s a ball of fire far far away.”
“And you believe this?” Antoth entreated, more hesitant than skeptical. Veera waved her feathers calmly.
“With all of my heart.”
“The threads of fate are truly unknowable,” Antoth opined, unsure what else he could say regarding the chain of events that had begun decades before when Daretho had brought home a starving nomadic woman. “But they have led us here all the same. Speak with Staroth about these human torches. If he agrees we will arrange a shipment from the ship above us. Pending the evaluation of the guard force, we may expand that to the village at large. Given the current state of diplomatic affairs I don’t think this will be an issue.”
“Would you have really killed him?” Veera demanded quietly, remembering her own aborted torture at Vash’s hands. Antoth placed a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her own in a sign of acceptance.
“You are my comrade. You are Winters’ mate. You are one of us. I would have flayed the skin from his back in an effort to let him live, but make no mistake Veera. Ratha was ready to slit his throat then and there. Enough of this dour conversation, though. You appear to be healthy and Winters made a strong statement to his people. Let’s see if our mercy wins us a few more of these magnificent torches.”