Craning my neck, I tried to determine how high the fortress’s tower reached. I’d still seen no sign of the people who lived here. From what I could surmise, I’d found the “backyard” of the fortress. Whoever harvested the grain must keep their tools elsewhere, and this side of the enormous building was nothing but solid black rock. No doors or windows, no gates or tunnels. Impenetrable, as a fortress should be.
Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes. I wasn’t doing well.
My ration bars were gone, and so was my water. I hadn’t found a water source. My marathon swim had depleted most of my energy, and the poisonous tubers had taken the rest.
With heavy-lidded eyes, I stared at the path that wound its way around the fortress and started walking again.
Twenty minutes into my walk, I found a break in the fortress wall. Standing back, I looked up and saw alien symbols transcribed over the doorway. It was arched, built right into the fortress wall, and led into a courtyard where I heard trickling water.
Looking around, I didn’t see anyone and stole inside. The fountain boasted a statue of two impossibly tall women with angular features and notable fangs. One stood taller than the other and pointed at the sky while interlocking the other woman’s arm with her own. The second woman bore a sweet smile and poured from a huge ladle, the water spilling eternally from its bowl and splashing into a rock. Stepping closer, I couldn’t see a hole drilled into the rock, or a pool. Some trick of the light or technology allowed the rock to absorb the spill of water without visible means.
Fascinated by the statue’s beauty, I stared for some time until my stomach growled.
Heat flushed up my neck when I looked around again and stuck my canister under the water’s stream. I hadn’t trespassed in a very long time and disliked the feeling.
Letting my canister decontaminate the water, I admired the rest of the courtyard. Overgrown with foliage, riotous flowers, thorny brambles and even some trees of dubious origin springing up through cracks, I could still see the bones of a beautiful haven. Benches had been carved out of the walls, and trellises invited the exploration of passages leading deeper into the courtyard grounds.
Drinking my fill, I stepped away from the fountain and stared at the large door festooned with an unruly purple vine. The two same women, I presumed, were carved onto the door, the shorter one’s hand made to look like it was resting on the knob. Tilting my head with a frown, I thought I remembered a dream featuring two women, but the memory was tattered and fleeting.
The responsible thing, the respectful thing to do in this scenario, was to leave the courtyard, follow the trail all the way around the fortress, however long that may be, and throw myself on the mercy of the people who ruled here.
I took another step back from the fountain, my eyes never leaving the knob.
Did it turn? My gaze darted to the fanged women smiling on the door, welcoming. Inviting.
What in the ever-living hell was I thinking?
There were protocols. Rules. Guidelines, for God’s sake.
Shaking my head of the fog brought about by dehydration, I turned on my heel and left the enclosed garden, mystified by my own carelessness.
The water refreshed me, and I took to the path again, hastening my steps. The sooner I got this over with, the better.
I heard shouts and chatter a few minutes later, and I stopped, searching for the source. The field of grain had stretched like an endless ocean, but now I could see its border where canopied stalls stood and groups of large people milled around, laughing and talking, holding up swaths of fabric or shining metal devices. Squinting, I thought at first that the suns shining through the fabric canopies made their skin look green, but I was wrong. They all were shades of green, from the pale shade found at the root of a water reed to the darker hue reminiscent of a jungle overstory and everything in between.
They were beautiful.
The women, or those whom I assumed identified as females, tended to be taller than the barrel-chested men, and slender. The men were bulkier, wider.
Hunger rose up in me like a mako shark, and I ducked back on the path and panted, leaning against the cool black stone. Not physical hunger.
Hunger for the company of people.
But I couldn’t just waltz up to everyone and announce my presence.
Part of IGMC’s training was familiarity with the Intergalactic Unification of Races. While none of us were specifically trained in diplomacy, the nature of our work meant a greater-than-usual chance of stumbling across alien races. Most of them were already acquainted with the IUR, and if not charted, still made aware due to their own trade routes and interspecies relations.
In the event of an uninitiated First Contact, I was to make myself known to the local government, endure most precautions they would have in place, and submit, showing myself to be a non-threat.
I received my booster back in the orbiter, so hopefully I wasn’t bringing any viruses that would wipe out the local population.
Any weapons in my possession were to be used as the complete last resort but were allowed to remain unidentified as weapons to the new race, for my own protection. Of course, most alien races that had similar hand configurations as humans and Qhudret also had weapons resembling guns, so my sidearm may be obvious.
Massaging my temples, I took deep breaths. It was best to avoid making scenes in large groups of people, just another of the countless precautions the IUR published in its materials. I would wait until the crowd of people dispersed and then find the main entrance to the fortress. So far, no one had made use of the path I was on, but if I were discovered by a single person, it might grease the wheels of being taken to the governing body.
I folded my arms and rubbed my hands over my biceps, feeling antsy and nervous. I refused to consider the fact that the people looked caught somewhere between medieval England and the roaring 2420s when new tech competed with old ways for supremacy in the global markets.
In other words, I saw zero signs of flight. Let alone space flight.
Blinking back tears, I hugged myself tighter and waited.
A horn blasted somewhere overhead, shocking me into a panic, but other than the blast, I didn’t hear the stamp of running feet or shouts of war. If I hadn’t been spotted, then the horn would have meant something else.
Sticking close to the wall, I edged my way to the curve where the market stalls were visible and gaped at the sight. The people’s attention was riveted on large monitors erected every few meters. The screens were filled with the face of an astonishingly beautiful woman, regal in every mannerism, as she read from what looked like a stone circle. After she said the words, she looked around, and the camera switched to a view of a large banquet hall filled with men and women. The camera zoomed in on one man, and I noted his bulging biceps were encircled by tight metal bands. Burly and grinning, he accepted the heavy-handed slaps on his back from nearby people. He wore a dark green skirt and a wide belt that resembled animal hide. Metal plates adorned his chest, and a circlet of long orange feathers rested around his crown from which grew long black hair fronds. Light caught and shimmered on jewels at his temples. His expression exuded arrogance, and then the view switched back to the woman.
She picked up another stone circle, said more harsh-sounding syllables, and looked around the hall again.
Another man, similarly dressed. I realized several of the men wore the skirts, but just as many, if not more, wore menacing armor in varying shades of black, gray, green, or brown. The women at the tables were dressed like the one speaking, if less extravagant.
This man wore his weight like a runner and had an easy grace when he stood and glanced around the room.
A third name read. A third camera view.
A quiet gasp escaped my lips. He was fierce. Enormous. The camera zoomed in on his face to show one of his fangs was broken, but in spite of that imperfection, his presence commanded the entire room while simultaneously keeping everyone at bay, as if he projected a forcefield. Even those seated near him leaned back, as if afraid to get too close.
I, on the other hand? I wanted to see him in person. I’d stepped forward without realizing it but thank God no one had seen me. Slinking back a step, my eyes trained on the absolute most handsome male I’d ever seen, I almost cried when the camera switched back to the woman.
Another name. Another male.
A fifth name. Another male. That one looked shell-shocked, but then the entire crowd of people, both off and on the screens began singing. The crowds outside the fortress added strong foot stomps while the screens displayed a more reserved crowd inside. As the camera panned across the hall, I realized the black stone walls matched those against which I leaned.
The ceremony, or whatever it was, was happening in real time, inside this very building, and explained the absolute lack of people outside its grounds other than the marketplace.
Staring at my hand against the black stone, I imagined I could feel the revelry vibrating through it and penetrating my glove.
Another glance around the corner showed a powerful people thrusting weapons into the sky in unison, and then those standing performed an elaborate, gyrating hip thrust, and it didn’t take a lot to infer what they might be singing about.
However, training at all levels reinforced the danger of making assumptions when dealing with alien races. Whatever the celebration meant, I needed to bide my time to make my appearance.
The chanting stopped, and I crouched and peered around the corner again, hoping not to be caught unawares if I was spotted. But everyone’s attention was on the screen, and the camera had zoomed in on the regal-looking woman. Light refracted off spittle as she shouted, revealing sharp fangs, and her brow furrowed in a look of rage so complete, it felt like she saw me through the camera lens. A chill settled in my gut, and I felt like I stared death in the eye.
Spinning on my heel, I ran back to the deserted courtyard, looking behind me, certain I would be discovered. I swung into the opening and sprinted to a corner tucked behind a bedraggled tree and sank to my bum, panting from the exertion.
There was no way I was following the IUR’s protocols and surrendering myself to that woman. I didn’t know what I was going to do or how I was going to survive, but her blazing eyes told me all I needed to know about this race’s acceptance of outsiders.
Minutes passed, maybe hours, judging by the long shadows in the courtyard, when I heard the unmistakable sound of aircraft lifting off and flying into the distance.
Resting my head against the stone wall, I breathed my first sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe, they had advanced enough that I could still make my way to the other planet.