Chapter Twelve
The dog smelled…doggy—but it didn’t stink nearly as bad as the stuff she’d fed the animal. Lacking the ability to digest meat, Progg were sensitive to meat odors, and Rok was exceptionally so.
Tail wagging, tongue lolling out of its mouth, the dog trotted happily beside Chloe as they walked along the dusty gravel road.
The two Earthlings had bonded instantly.
The animal had taken to her, and she’d become its protector.
Something almost like jealousy curled in the pit of his stomach.
What would it be like to be appreciated simply because you existed?
To not have to earn acceptance and approval?
He kicked a rock, sending it skittering into the woods. “Don’t do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Jump in front of my vaporizer. I could have killed you.”
“Would that matter?”
“Of course it would matter!” It mattered too much.
If she died—worse, if he’d caused her death—he wouldn’t be able to stand it.
While he’d never known happiness, he’d never experienced heartbreak, either, and he sensed her death would bring the latter.
His chest ached to contemplate it. He’d taken to her the same way the dog had.
Except the animal received soft words and affectionate touches.
Of course, the animal hadn’t coerced her compliance.
“If I’d wanted you dead, you’d already be dead,” he said.
“Instead, I’m your hostage. A prisoner of war.”
He kicked another rock. He should tell her the truth—he desired her company, but she was free to go. But if she realized she could walk away, she would. Would there ever come a time when she would stay with him willingly? “You shouldn’t think of it that way,” he said.
They didn’t take hostages or prisoners of war. POWs complicated a conquest, so they ensured there weren’t any. Do it once. Do it right.
“How else can I think of it?”
He’d done everything wrong—passed on three easy targets then eliminated an intelligence asset, failed again to claim an easy kill then complicated his mission by coercing a “hostage” into accompanying him. And yet, somehow, misleading her felt like the greater sin.
“Things don’t always go the way we desire them to,” he said, thinking of the failed Earth campaign and the increasing likelihood he would never leave this planet.
“You can say that again,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She halted. “What did you say to me?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re fucking sorry? Sorry? For what? Annihilating an entire fucking population?” she shouted.
The dog yelped and slunk away, ears flattened, tail tucked between its legs.
“You murdered my parents, my brother and sister, and my boyfriend. Everyone I worked with. My clients. You turned human against human. You destroyed my future! I’ll never be a veterinarian; I’ll never get married and have babies.
Until you can give me what you stole from me, you keep your fucking apology! ”
She noticed the dog cowering. “And you made me scare Kevin!” She crept toward the shivering animal. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said in a low voice. “I wasn’t yelling at you. I won’t yell anymore.” The dog wiggled and licked her face, and she hugged him.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
Her head shot up. “What?”
“You’re free to go. You can return to the house where we met, go on to the next town, go wherever. I won’t keep you with me. I won’t follow you.” He felt unbearably sad. Sad for what his people had done, for his role in it, for hurting her further, for losing her.
She stood up. “As soon as I turn my back, you’ll vaporize me.”
“No.” He removed his holster and handed it to her. “Here.”
Her jaw dropped comically, but he was too dispirited to find it amusing. She said she’d lost everything—and she had. He felt the same way. He would never get to know her, would never see her smile or hear her laugh. He’d never again inhale her special soothing scent.
Never go home. Never find Grav. Only a fool would believe he could still be alive.
She crept toward him like she expected a trick and then grabbed the weapon.
“You should be aware you can’t fire it,” he warned. “It’s coded specifically to my genetics. It won’t work for you.” He imagined her confronting another Progg and discovering too late the weapon didn’t work.
“Then why give it to me?”
“So, you’ll believe I mean what I say.”
She buckled the holster around her hips.
“You do not want another Progg to see you with that weapon,” he said. “He will kill you on the spot.”
“I’ll get a pack in town.”
He nodded. Was he making a huge mistake to part with his weapon? Yeah. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. He accepted he lacked the ability to kill on command. As a soldier, he was a failure.
He could not restore all she had lost nor give her the life she might have had, but he could grant her freedom and ensure her safety. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out Knife’s medallion. “If you wear this, any Progg who sees you will let you pass.”
“No!” She backed away. “I won’t wear that. I am not a traitor.”
“You are safe from me, but you will not be safe from others. You don’t have to betray anyone. This will ensure your safety.”
“I’d rather die than wear that.” Her eyes flashed.
She was being foolish by refusing the protection. “Have it your way.” He pushed the medallion into his pocket. “Well…I’m—” Sorry. He didn’t dare say that again, so he started off down the road.
“Where are you going? What are you going to do now?”
“Continue the search,” he said dejectedly. “The town you mentioned—Big Creek—it’s this way, isn’t it?” Grav was undoubtedly dead, but he couldn’t give up. Without a purpose, what was the point of living?
“Yes. Another mile or so.” She bit her lip. “I’ll walk with you. I’m headed that way.”
* * * *
What the hell am I doing?
After kidnapping her, he’d let her go—and handed over his weapon.
It probably wouldn’t work like he said—only a crazy person handed the enemy his weapon—but Chloe intended to test it when they parted company.
Unlike a handgun, his vaporizer was so light, she hardly felt it around her waist. The holster weighed more.
She probably should have hightailed it to the double-wide, gotten the bicycle, and pedaled the fuck out of here, but she was closer to town than the house, and she had Kevin.
She couldn’t expect the dog to run alongside the bike for ten, twenty miles, even if he’d been in great shape, which he wasn’t.
Another reason to go on to Big Creek. She had to get dog food—and food for herself, fresh clothes, and a backpack to carry it all.
She snuck a peek at Rok. Shoulders slumped, he shuffled along. He looks like somebody stole his puppy. The spurt of pity stirred a stronger surge of anger. Why should I feel sorry for him? What does he have to feel dejected about?
But she couldn’t help wondering what the heck was going on in his head. His behavior confused her. He kidnapped her then let her go and handed her his weapon. He killed her family—well, maybe not him, but his people—then apologized for it. He thanked her for a ho-hum breakfast.
Who are you?
Who was anybody? She wasn’t the same person she’d been before the invasion. The trio hadn’t been who they’d seemed at first, either.
“What will you do if you find your brother?”
“Haven’t thought beyond that. It will depend on him, I guess.”
“How long have you been searching?”
“I just started. My unit was camped northwest of here by many muh-ruga.”
A squirrel ran across the road.
“Ruff. Ruff. Ruff.” Kevin took off after it.
The squirrel darted up a tree, leaving Kevin barking at the base. The squirrel’s chitters taunted the dog whose yaps grew more enthusiastic. What would once have been an ordinary, forgettable incident turned extraordinary and momentous. A dog and a squirrel. Might there be other dogs? Cats, too?
She wiped away an emotional tear. “Tell me about your brother.”
He shrugged. “His name is Grav. He’s five years older than me.”
She waited for him to say more. “That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
Was he being deliberately uncommunicative? “What is he like? What does he do for a living? Is he married—does he have a mate and children?”
“No mate—” He twisted his mouth. “I don’t know if he has a mate or offspring.”
“How can you not know?”
“I haven’t seen him in twelve years.”
“Why not?”
“Progg families in general are not close. Ours particularly was not.”
“Then, why do you want to find him?”
“Because…” He paused. “Because…he might be the only one who understands.”
“Understands what?” This was like pulling teeth!
“What I am experiencing.”
“Which is?” she prompted.
“I’m hoping he can tell me.”
“Oh, for god’s sake!” Why do I bother to talk to him?
Because the little he had said coupled with the specific information gaps aroused her curiosity. And when would she have the chance to talk with an alien? Others might disapprove of her chatting with the enemy, but perhaps she could find out why they’d done what they did.
“Human families are close, I take it,” he said.
“Yes. Mine was, as are most families. A few individuals don’t come from good homes or don’t get along with certain family members, but the family is the cornerstone of our society and civilization.
The family raises children, determines how we live, transmits our values and beliefs.
Family members care and support one another. We couldn’t exist without family.”
“Our General Ministry performs all the functions you mentioned.”
“The General Ministry is?”
“Our ruling council. One reason I don’t know Grav very well is because at the age of six, children are taken from their parents and sent to Ministry Education Centers. The MEC rears and educates them.”
“But children still see their parents, right?”
“On annual visit days.”
“You only saw your parents once a year?”