2. Karnac
2
KARNAC
T he human female stood there, silent and motionless, just looking at me. My introduction made, I returned the favor, cursing the heavy jacket she wore. Yes, the thin air this high was cold. Granted. A bracing chill, not a freeze needing so many layers.
The hints of curves under her clothes intrigued me, made me want to see more. Strands of flame-red hair escaped from under her hood, framing a pale face, full red lips, and bright green eyes. If not for the anger in her eyes, she could have stepped out of an art exhibit labelled The Human of Karnac’s Dreams.
A hologram sat on her shoulder, looking at me. A ‘cat’ I believed the humans called that animal type, but there was something different about this one — its eyes were the gray of static on a view screen.
“Hello?” I tried again. “I am here to assist at the Vidstation One. You are here to show me the way?”
It wasn’t easy to keep bitterness from my voice. Coming up this mountain was emphatically not my idea, but I’d had no choice. Auric, the leader of Prytheen in the Joint Colony, wanted me here, and so here I was. Meeting this female might make up for the inconvenience, though. Something about her called to me on a primal level, made me want to pounce and ravish her and show her the pleasure a real male can give a female.
I held back for now. It would be a poor introduction to the others of the station to arrive late because of hours spent making love. Humans have strange hang-ups about such things.
“I’m Molly King,” the human blurted suddenly. “ Chief technician. Come with me.”
The stress she put on ‘chief’ made me smile. This Molly took pride in her work, and that suited me. Too many humans adopted a fuck it, it’ll do approach. And beyond her words was her voice. A sweet sound, one that made my chest tighten and my manhood stir. Aside from being angry with me for no reason I knew of, Molly seemed designed to be my perfect match.
Is this what the mate-bond feels like? I’d heard the poems by those lucky enough to meet their khara, heard a hundred bawdy songs in the vague hope of understanding. None of them prepared me for this. I ached for her, needed her touch, wanted to ravage her and show her true pleasure. Restraining my urges with difficulty, I smiled at her and looked for an appropriate way to let her know.
But Molly didn’t give me a chance to say anything more. She turned and stomped away, leaving me to follow her onto a track winding itself upward through the rough terrain towards the unmissable tower that stabbed the sky. From here, signals reached almost the entire planet, giving the Joint Colony a way to spread important information and to share what culture the humans had scattered across Crashland in their colony pods. A vital part of the Joint Colony’s attempts to unify human and Prytheen, to pull together in the hopes of leaving this Void-damned planet.
We walked toward the tower in silence, the only sounds the crunch of snow underfoot and the constant, painful howl of the wind. Molly stamped along the trail, her holographic companion turning to stare at me with his disconcerting eyes. I gave him an encouraging smile, only for him to dissolve into static and vanish.
A ghostly weight on my shoulder startled me enough to inhale sharply as I whipped my head round to see the hologram animal reappear. The AI’s forcefield generator pushed down on me, giving him the illusion of weight, and up close those eyes of static were disconcerting.
“Hello, small one,” I said, recovering my composure and gently touching the artificial predator’s head. “Are you well?”
“He’s fine.” The vehemence in Molly’s voice surprised me — and even more so, how strongly I reacted to it. The pain was almost physical, making me wince. Something had hurt her, and I whoever or whatever it was, I felt an urgent need to bury my claws in it.
The hologram blurred into a cloud and then popped, reappearing by Molly’s side with a whine. Off we went again.
Over the course of our walk, I tried to start a conversation. Tried and failed, my assaults rebuffed by the solid walls surrounding her heart.
“What is it like here?” I asked.
“It’s okay.” Her answer barely qualified.
“Anything I should know?”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “You’ll pick it up though.”
“What are the people here like?”
“Human.” That seemed enough for her, and I winced at the implication. The rest of my questions could wait. I’d gain nothing by pressing her when she made her preference so blatantly clear.
But the pain she warded herself from made me want nothing more than to breach the walls around her heart, to show her that we were mates. Despite every rebuff, I still felt the pull toward her, knew with an instinctive certainty that I would give my life for hers, that I would dedicate myself to making her happy. That she was my khara, and I hers.
If words would not turn this beauty’s heart, so be it. I would woo her with actions, then. Kill an enemy of hers and bring her the heart. Make her the perfect meal. Give her a fresh weapon.
There is one problem — I have no idea who she hates, what she likes to eat, or what weapon I could offer her.
I let out a breath and watched it crystalize in the freezing cold. My heart beat a little lighter. This was a worthy challenge for a hunter.
It didn’t take long to reach the station, a brisk walk in the early morning chill. For Molly it was more like torture to judge from the heaviness of her breaths, the weight of her footfalls. I considered offering to carry her and kept my laugh at the thought quiet.
Even the short time I’d known her was enough to predict how she’d hate that idea. A good plan if I wanted to learn more human swearwords, a bad one if I wanted to ease her walk. She was in no danger, anyway — if she wished to climb this mountain, let her.
The red-blinking eye of the transmitter tower came into view, and I stopped to admire it. Supported on one side by a cliff face, tied down by guide ropes anchored into the mountain, the metal framework was, under the circumstances, an impressive achievement. A sacrifice, too — the humans had carved the core of it out of the Wandering Star’s systems, and those parts were irreplaceable. All the hard work paid off, though. Once they set it up here, the Colony could reach most of the world with its broadcasts.
That only mattered to those with working receivers, which meant the humans’ colony pods. Prytheen technology did not function on Crashland, the power draining from it in seconds, which locked my people out until they got access to a human radio. That mostly happened when the Prytheen conquered a colony pod, only adding to the tensions between our species.
My hand went to my blaster, resting on the worn, familiar grip. More powerful by far than the humans’ primitive lasers, and completely useless without power. I’d tried every trick I could think of to charge it, without success. This hateful planet ate the power quicker than I could feed it.
To distract myself from those thoughts, I looked at my new home. The single building that sprawled around the transmitter tower looked almost like an afterthought. Something thrown together once the builders realized there would be people up here.
Red walls, easy to spot against the background of snow, insulated with materials ripped from wrecked ships. Most of the colony pods reached the surface in one piece, but too many of them didn’t. Piloted by primitive computers programmed to land on a different world entirely, errors had taken ships into mountains, trees, oceans… and sometimes just hit too hard, killing the human passengers before they could wake from stasis.
At least we Prytheen could do something about our situation. We’d been conscious, able to steer as our fighters lost power. I remembered my fighter bucking under me as the thrusters failed, the ruby-red glow of others burning up in the atmosphere, too slow to adjust. So many lost that day, good and bad.
I struggled to pull my mind away from the memory, pushing it down deep where it wouldn’t hurt so.
“Well? Are you even listening?” Molly’s voice, impatient and acerbic, pulled me out of the past. I blinked, the images of the burning Silver Band fleet vanishing, replaced by a very real, very irritated human. She stood, hands on hips, glowering at me.
I responded with a smile. Letting her see me as weak would only make matters worse, and besides, I didn’t think I’d be able to explain. Hard enough with a Prytheen, but with a human? No.
“I apologize, I was admiring the work that’s gone into this transmitter.” Not entirely a lie, but it didn’t seem to satisfy Molly. Her face darkened and she narrowed her eyes.
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked. “Just because you’re used to something less primitive…”
“I was not mocking,” I protested, a little too loudly. My heart thumped, and I forced my hand away from the butt of my blaster. “I would ever mock you, my kh?—”
“I am not your anything,” Molly said, talking over me with a snarl in her voice. A challenge. From anyone else, I’d have welcomed it. A chance to settle a dispute with honor? To fight and have victory decide the answer?
But not my mate. My mind shied away from the thought of fighting her, of risking her life, and I would not do it. I locked eyes with her and held up empty hands, signaling for peace.
“This structure is an impressive achievement under the circumstances, and I assure you I was mocking neither it, nor you,” I told her. “What can I do to convince you that it is so?”
“For a start, you can listen to me when I tell you something.” Was that the hint of a smile? Yes, I thought, yes it was. A small mercy.
And she was right. I should have paid attention.
“Tell me again, and this time I will listen,” I promised her. She snorted and shook her head.
“Nope. You had your chance at that, mister. Now you’ll have to struggle through on your own and learn things the hard way.”
“Fair,” I acknowledged, watching that hint of a smile become a suggestion. Perhaps, if I was lucky, skilled, and amusing, I’d persuade her to upgrade it further.
Seeing that smile blossom would be the greatest thing on this world or any other. I decided on the spot that no other goal would do but to make Molly happy enough, safe enough, that she’d grace me with the full power of it. Just the thought of it banished the dark memories of planetfall, and I followed my khara toward the human base.
Built piecemeal from disassembled colony pods and parts of the Wandering Star , the buildings had the blocky lack of elegance I associated with human construction. I refused to judge it on looks alone — even using the fliers, getting building materials up here hadn’t been easy. The Joint Colony had so many other priorities, it amazed me that we’d gotten all this up here, let alone build something functional.
The doors to the station were well-marked, I noted with approval. Bright arrows of green paint pointed the way, lights mounted above them to give guidance at night. Even in a snowstorm, they’d give some hint of where to go.
And this looked like a place that got more than its share of snowstorms. One of the many downsides of living on a planet rather than a spaceship as fate intended.
A welcoming committee waited for us at the doors, eight humans with a banner. A hand-painted banner, worse luck — someone had tried to write in Prytheen, but the letters were hardly legible, let alone the words. I tried to puzzle out the meaning.
Health will arrive, faller-into-the-sky? Quickly approaching orgasm lost in space? Lord Orgasm speeds skyward? Nothing made sense. I presumed, despite the poor choice of words, they intended it to honor my arrival.
Why hadn’t they written it in Galtrade? The whole point of the trade tongue was that everyone shared it, so surely they’d have gotten their point across better than this!
I turned my attention to the humans beneath the banner. The first thing I saw was the pink outfit. The second was the smile, like a predator pretending to be a friend. Then the rest of her features, hidden behind that smile like an ambush party behind a rock. She had a face to lead many a young, unmated warrior into the abyss.
With my khara beside me, I had no need to worry about that temptation. Her artful illusion of beauty couldn’t compete with Molly’s natural perfection.
Behind her stood more humans, half a dozen of them. Four males, two females, all watching me with trepidation. Their caution showed wisdom; none of them looked like fighters, though humans had surprised us more than once since the Crash.
Pink boots crunching in the snow, the leader stepped forward. Her bright smile widened, an eyebrow raised — she could hardly have been more obvious in her interest. Uncomfortable, I nodded and waited for her to speak.
“So you’re our new technician? I’m Allison Greene, head of station, welcome. We could use some fresh ideas in our tech department, what with all the failures we’ve been having.”
She extended her hand in the human greeting and I clasped it with some misgivings. I found it difficult to tell with humans, but her ‘greeting’ sounded like an insult to my khara.
“It will be a pleasure to lend my more experienced colleague what expertise I have,” I said, trying for a diplomatic response. “I only really know Prytheen systems, though — the success will be hers more than mine.”
Molly snorted, stomping toward the base. Something flickered in Allison’s eyes, a moment of annoyance soon drowned in the syrupy sweetness of her expression. Was there anything honest about this woman?
Her hand gripped mine, squeezing gently but firmly. At least it wasn’t one of the male dominance displays — I’d broken one human’s hand before I understood how fragile they could be.
“How generous of you,” Allison said, giving Molly a sidelong look. “I’m sure once you settle in you’ll be solving everything. Prytheen technology is so far ahead of our own. In fact, that’s an idea — you must present a show for us, showing how to deal with Prytheen equipment that people might stumble on.”
I winced. That sounded like the depths of the Starless Void to me, and the best advice I could give was ‘stay away from it, let a Prytheen know what you’ve found, hope it doesn’t explode.’
“We shall see,” I answered, pulling my hand from hers. Behind her, the other humans were exchanging looks, all except the largest male. He glowered at me, face dark, eyes narrowed, fists clenched. Under his bulky jacket and rolls of fat, he had muscle too. If he hated me on sight, he might be trouble later, and he looked strong enough to be a challenge.
I bared my teeth at him in a snarl that made his dark skin pale. But he didn’t look away, didn’t back down. Perhaps he would make for an interesting opponent.
“Ah, yes, please excuse my rudeness,” Allison said, noticing my attention had moved to the others. “These are the station staff. Harmon Baltimore, Michiko Takamura, Zeng Ru, they’re our ‘on screen’ talent. Alphonse Delong?—”
“Call me Alf,” the slight human said, waving hello. Allison glared at him before continuing.
“Alphonse is our visual editor. Amy Felice handles sound, and Rod Hastings ties it all together.”
Each of them waved hello as Allison spoke their names, letting me identify them all. That was the idea, anyway. They all wore similar outdoor gear, which made things a lot harder in practice. I could tell the two females from the males, but telling the humans apart aside from that?
Molly was a unique treasure, and I would never mistake her for someone else. Harmon’s challenge and his size made him unforgettable. Allison made an impact like a battleship broadside, and her pink was hard to miss. And Alf made himself memorable by interrupting the introduction. The rest might as well be interchangeable.
“I am Karnac of the Silver Band, war mechanic from Clan Layol. I am sure we’ll all get on well.” Perhaps that was a lie — sure is a strong word. But ‘hope’ didn’t carry the same weight, and a little lie in the name of diplomacy hurt no one.
“Thank you all for the warm welcome and the… thoughtful banner.” I stumbled, trying to pick a word. Thoughtful had the virtue of being true and said nothing of the quality of the banner itself.
Allison began clapping, and everyone joined in instantly. Yes, she’s the alpha of this pack. Most human groups I’d met were circumspect about who held power. Here, everyone knew who was in charge.
As long as it worked, that was all that mattered. But… Molly seemed shut out of this, not even mentioned in the introduction. An insult I would not tolerate for long, not if it had anything to do with Molly’s anger. If I was to win her heart, I would need to find and deal with the causes of her bottled-up rage.
“Allison, might I speak with you for a moment?” I asked as the group made its way inside. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me, and she nodded. A hand on my arm held me back, the rest of the crew filing past and into the base. Harmon paused in the doorway, looking back, and Allison had to shoo him inside.
“Sorry about that, he gets a bit protective,” she said. “And you are a fearsome looking man, Karnac. He might think you mean to hurt me, poor lamb. What did you want to speak about?”
Ah. Good, they are a pair. It explained the male’s glowers and glares; allowing one’s mate into danger should not be easy. But he had nothing to fear from me, and once he knew that, we should have no more trouble.
“It’s not anything to do with the job,” I admitted. She nodded for me to continue, her eyes widening, if anything more intrigued. “I don’t know the customs of your people well, or really at all. I know what gifts and words would sway a Prytheen female, but they are warriors like any other member of the Silver Band. Human females are different. If I were interested in one, what should I do for them?”
It felt awkward, wrong almost, to do things in the human style. But there were things worth learning from these people while we were stuck on Crashland together. If I got human advice on their approach to mating, it might take less time to prove myself worthy of her. That was the only goal that mattered to me now.
Allison paused before answering, watching me through wide eyes, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her frozen breath hung in the air like a smokescreen, making it hard to read her expression.
“Well now, someone moves fast,” she said, voice low and husky. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Gifts are always good, though. Something she’ll enjoy, like chocolate — there are still a few boxes left in the Wandering Star’s hold, I believe. Or jewelry; diamonds are a girl’s best friend. A necklace, earrings, or even a ring.”
She laughed at that, though I didn’t see the joke.
Hm. No heart of her enemies, no weapons, no cooking her a fine meal. Just… chocolate and diamonds? It felt so mundane. Any decent matter printer could churn out all the diamonds you wanted, just add carbon. Chocolate was trickier, though still not a grave challenge.
But if this was human custom, so be it. I would not let my disdain for the culture keep me from my beloved.
“Thank you, Allison, that is a great help,” I said, mindful of my manners. “A pity it will be a week before the next supply run, when I can get those things.”
“Oh, you don’t need them to start wooing,” Allison assured me, squeezing my arm in a way that felt far too familiar. “At least, not out here. Any girl would understand, I know she would. Just take your chance.”
Thinking about the look I’d last seen in my khara’s eyes, I shook my head. “If I am to follow your customs, I will do so properly. I would not wish to miss out on the experience.”
Chuckling, I made light of it, but the reality was serious. I’d seen Molly’s reaction when I arrived, and whatever the source of Molly’s pain and doubt, I refused to add to it. Doing things by the customs of her own people would, I hoped, stay inside her comfort zone and make it easier for her to accept me.
Despite Allison’s disapproving pout, I was confident I’d win my khara over soon.