Chapter 3 - Lualhati
LUALHATI
The first two faces I saw on Zabria Prinar One were ones I recognized. Tasha and Warden Tenn met me when the doors of the big, honking interstellar shuttle opened after landing on a sun-drenched patchwork of snow and reddish muck.
The third face, however, was new. And unlike Tasha’s broad smile or Warden Tenn’s warm orange gaze, his expression gave me nothing but a cutting sort of coldness.
Or maybe that was just the planet’s cold air getting to me through the seams of my coat.
As I so often preferred to do, I’d gone for fashion over function, wearing a long, white, belted trench coat and knee-high boots with sexy, spindly heels.
Not exactly the best outfit for arriving on an isolated ranching planet/penal colony, but I loved this jacket and boots, and I wanted to make a good first impression.
I had to spend so much of my time in scrubs with my hair scraped back that I’d always devoted extra attention to the clothes I wore outside of work.
But it did mean that I was now a wee bit chilly willy.
“We are so glad you could join us as our resident provincial physician,” Tasha said, still beaming. “And on a personal note, I am so happy to work with you again!”
“Stop! You’re so cute,” I said with a laugh. “Come here.” I pulled her into a hug, which she enthusiastically accepted. I found myself slightly choked up, having not hugged anyone since I left my job on Elora Station.
The same day I left Bryson.
Since then, I’d been furiously packing and completely ignoring him. And then, I’d been on the hired shuttle out here. It was a big vehicle, with my own guest bedroom and lots of storage for all my boxes.
“This is my husband, Warden Tenn,” Tasha said, pulling away from the hug. With a grin, I kept my arms open towards him, raising my brows. He looked surprised, but pleased, and leaned in to give me a swift hug.
“And this-” Tasha began after her husband had patted me once on the back and let me go.
“Must be Warden Hallum!” I finished for her.
Tasha and I had spoken several times to hammer out our arrangement, and she’d filled me in on all sorts of details about this place, including telling me about the warden overseeing the province I’d be living in.
She’d explained that, compared to her own husband, Warden Hallum was a stricter and more serious sort of man.
Looks like she wasn’t exaggerating…
Like Warden Tenn, Warden Hallum was absolutely massive, at least seven feet tall, with a shoulder span that I imagined could chew up any doorway you tried to shove it through.
Unlike Warden Tenn, however, his huge frame didn’t have any hint of familiar ease or relaxation in it.
He stood with his hands firmly placed behind him, his back so straight I could easily believe that he had a rod of metal running right up his spine.
Or a big stick up his bum.
Well, that was alright. I’d gotten used to working with all sorts of personalities in the medical field, from the kindest and most selfless nurses to some of the most emotionless, ego-driven surgeons.
Not to mention all those crotchety admin ladies and hostile insurance reps.
Warden Hallum and I would get along just fine.
To illustrate this, I lifted my arms again.
“I’m a hugger, Warden Hallum,” I said. “Totally OK if you’re not, though.”
His eyes were interesting. I found myself quite absorbed by them. Zabrian eyes, instead of a round and dark pupil, had a centre of brighter colour that branched outwards into the rest of the eye. Warden Tenn’s gaze was bright orange that called to mind a cozy, crackling fire.
Warden Hallum’s gaze was ice.
His eyes were the colour of a cold and distant sea; grey, storm-whipped, and wintry.
The centre part was lighter, almost silver, the sheen of mist on pale metal.
Even his skin, which was a sort of yellow in tone, had a coolness to it – an acidic, muted lemon as opposed to a golden or more buttery shade.
His uniform and hat were grey, spotless, unwrinkled.
His sleek black hair was tied tightly back, not a strand out of place.
I had no doubt he would refuse my hug. Everything about this man screamed rigid. Frigid. Frozen. Which, again, was totally fine. We didn’t have to be besties or anything. And not everyone was as into hugs as I was. I respected that.
“I am more practiced at the human greeting of shaking hands,” Warden Hallum said, confirming my prediction about his non-hugginess.
Except his actions seemed to contradict his words. Even as he spoke of shaking hands instead, he was stepping towards me in his big, black leather boots. I’d just lowered my arms when he bent down and enclosed both of his own around me in a stiff embrace.
Oh, I thought, giving a pleasurable little shiver despite myself. Not cold at all.
The air coming in from outside the open shuttle door really was nippy.
But Warden Hallum was all heat, intense waves of it seeping through his uniform and surrounding me.
The sensation made me feel nearly feverish, and I leaned closer, pressing myself firmly against the hard planes of his chest. Absentmindedly, I wondered what a typical, healthy Zabrian core body temperature was.
This was exactly the sort of thing I’d have to research to prepare for the birth of the first human-Zabrian baby.
“I hope this will suffice,” Warden Hallum said from somewhere above my head.
“Mm-hmm!” I confirmed. I wanted to wiggle with delight at the sheer loveliness of the blissful warmth. Dutifully, I restrained myself, because that would have made me look slightly insane. I hadn’t noticed anything extra cozy or special about Warden Tenn’s hug, and I certainly hadn’t wiggled…
I also hadn’t noticed Warden Tenn’s scent.
But I sure as hell was aware of Warden Hallum’s right now.
It was crisp and clean, but softened at the edges by notes of leather and sun and something delightfully plant-like, maybe hay.
I very nearly gave into the instinct to shove my nose into the flawless front of his uniform and take a great big whiff.
The heat of him and his extremely huffable fragrance more than made up for the fact that this was possibly the most awkwardly tense hug I’d ever been subjected to.
He’d gone remarkably, stoically still. Not a single shift of his weight or tiny twitch of muscle to be felt anywhere.
It was a bit like I’d somehow worked my way into the stony arms of some gigantic, unsmiling statue. Was he even breathing?
I certainly was – enough for the both of us. Greedily inhaling that scent of his. Yum yum.
Without warning, Warden Hallum let his arms drop away from me with ruthless efficiency, each hand slicing down and back to his own sides like the blades of Old-Earth guillotines.
In the same movement, he returned to his imposingly ramrod straight posture, leaving me blinking and befuddled in his wake.
I only realized then that I’d never even put my arms around him to return the hug.
Hopefully he didn’t think that was rude or anything, especially since I was the one who had proposed it in the first place.
“We should get going,” Warden Hallum said, aiming his eyes away from me and out the shuttle door to the snow-scuffed land outside.
“Sounds good,” I said. I’d been on the shuttle for ages and was more than ready to leave it behind. “I’ll just need some help unloading my stuff.”
“This?” Tasha asked, indicating the large bag near my feet.
“And all that,” I replied, nodding towards the twenty or so big boxes I’d brought along.
Warden Tenn let out a low chuckle, and Warden Hallum turned around once more at the sound. A grim tension thinned his lips at the sight of all my crap.
“I suppose,” he said at length, “that it is a good thing I’ve brought my wagon.”