Lydia
The machine on the wall whirrs to life. I genuinely do not know what Deus is going to get with that particular instruction, although I’m interested to find out.
I can’t believe this is Deus. Gillian said she had met him. She said he was dangerous, but I wasn’t expecting this.
A completely feral Sarkarnii with not only an ego, but an edge to him which terrifies one part of me. And excites another, more hidden part. A part of me I didn’t think existed…until now.
I’ve become so adept at hiding. First from the parent who did nothing but belittle me until I walked out at sixteen, then the string of people who took advantage, over and over again.
A dark past I don’t speak of, and no longer have to, not now I’ve been abducted by aliens and dumped on this planet.
With these Sarkarnii.
With Deus.
The food dispenser continues to rattle as Deus stares at me, somewhat blankly. He blinks again, and it’s almost with his entire face. As if the concentration is too much.
The rattling and whirring stops.
“Food,” he says, pulling a platter into his spade-like hands.
He drops to the floor, as if that’s his natural position, with the platter in front of him. I guess I didn’t factor the Sarkarnii element into my query because of course if they ask for food, it has to be meat.
And that’s exactly what Deus has got. Further, it would appear it’s exactly what he wanted given it’s disappearing at a rate of knots.
My Sarkarnii was hungry after all. Although I’m pretty sure the noise he was making had nothing to do with it because it sounded suspiciously like a purr.
Only this is Deus. If there’s one thing he’s more well known for than being a traitor to the Sarkarnii here on Vorostor, it’s the fact he went mad when his mate died. So insane his brother, Darax, had to lock him up because he blamed the warlords for what happened.
And he was supposed to be locked up again for collaborating with the female Sarkarnii who had some bonkers plan to overthrow the males. The Sarkarnii, it seems, have little sympathy for those who do things which they should not do in grief.
Although admittedly, Deus, whilst he could do with a good cleaning, isn’t striking me as bereft. He is, however, clearly unhinged.
Because that’s what I seem to attract, unhinged males who want to control me. It would appear, sometimes, they are aliens too. That’s the reason I ended up here in the first place.
“Little ember,” Deus growls through a mouthful. “You should eat.”
“My name is not ‘little ember,’” I point out.
“Well, until you give me your name, that is what it will be,” he replies. “Eat.”
I probably should refuse to eat too. I should go on a complete strike. But that would be silly and counterproductive.
I reach out, take a small sliver of the dark meat and nibble on it. Unlike most food dispenser food, this actually has a proper flavor, peppery, spicy, and it melts in my mouth. I take a larger bite and chew with some gusto.
Which is when I realize the place has gone really, really quiet.
Deus is watching me. Very closely. His hand is poised halfway to his mouth.
“It’s good,” I say, hesitantly. “Not what I was expecting.”
He swallows. And blinks as if attempting to steady the room.
“It is of my own design. I created this place to my specifications. The meat is prepared to my liking.”
“Oh,” I say, taking another bite and eating thoughtfully. “I guess that’s why you didn’t have to give the dispenser much of a verbal cue as to what you wanted.”
“It knows what I want. It knows what we both want…” He stops speaking, as if something is unravelling in his mind. “It knows,” he says with some finality.
“You made it nice,” I say. “I like it.”
“You are my captive.” Deus’s eyebrows are drawn together. “You are not supposed to like it.”
“Then why bring me here?”
He shakes his head and looks down at the remnants of the meat.
“I was hungry,” he says. “You were right.”
He gets up in one fluid movement I feel I could only long to be able to do. He leaves the platter on the floor.
“There is nowhere to run, little ember,” he growls. “This is my sector. I know every part of it.”
“I can’t promise anything.”
“If you run, and I don’t catch you”—he levels his gaze at me as if to say he would always catch me—“then something else out there will, and as my word is my bond, you will not want to be caught by anything other than me.”
He stomps to the window, which opens like a camera lens to allow him to exit before closing again and becoming completely clear.
I still hear his footsteps for a few seconds more before I am left in silence.
Perhaps my friends would have been up on their feet, checking every square inch of this place for a way out, for a means of escape, but I don’t move.
I finish up the remaining scraps Deus has left before I return the platter to the dispenser, which sucks it in almost lovingly to be recycled somehow.
I suppose I could check the exit Deus used.
Instead I wander slowly around the place.
All of it is made so it looks out over the valley.
I find a bedroom, with a deep depression filled with comfortable cushioning, of the type the Sarkarnii prefer.
It has a separate sanitation area with a deep pool rolling with the hot water I’m used to seeing on the Sarkarnii ships, the moisture cleverly filtered out of the air.
This place has been created with love.
I return to the main area which has more seating than I’ve come to expect from my Sarkarnii hosts. I take a seat and look out over the valley where the twin suns of Vorostor are starting to set.
There’s still no sign of Deus as they put on a tremendous display for me, nor when darkness falls and lights come on in the vegetation outside and inside where I am sitting.
Eventually, I lie down where I am and the silence lulls me to sleep.