Chapter 5 #2
“Your translator is working better,” Rezor observed, his eyes finding mine again. That fuchsia color bloomed immediately. “You understand me more clearly now?”
“Much better. It learns fast when given enough input.” I gestured vaguely at the settlement around us. “All this conversation helps. Every word I hear, it processes and adds to its database.”
“Impressive.” He seemed genuinely interested. “And you can speak more clearly now too?”
“Getting there. Give it another day or two and I should sound almost fluent.” I paused, considering. “Though I’ll probably always have an accent. The device translates meaning, but it can’t change my vocal patterns completely.”
Baleck had drifted toward a group of workers repairing a building’s foundation. He was attempting conversation, his words halting but earnest. The D’tran workers looked wary but not hostile, answering his questions with careful courtesy.
“Your companion is curious,” Rezor said, watching Baleck with an unreadable expression.
“He’s a communications specialist. Talking to people is literally his job.” I kept pace with Rezor as we continued through the settlement. “He’s trying to learn. To understand your culture.”
“And you?”
“I’m an engineer. I’m trying to understand how everything works.” I gestured at the water channels, the carefully maintained buildings, the strategic placement of everything. “You’ve built something special here. Especially considering your isolation.”
Something like pride flickered across his face. “We survive. We adapt. It’s what D’tran do.”
We walked in silence for a moment, the guards maintaining their perimeter. I was acutely aware of escape routes as we moved. The narrow alleys between buildings. The fact that the outer wall of the settlement was only about three meters high in most places. The patterns of guard patrols.
Not that I was planning to run. Not yet, anyway. But knowing I could was important.
“The forest surrounds us,” Rezor said, gesturing toward the dense tree line visible beyond the settlement’s edge. “It provides much of what we need. Wood for building. Plants for food and medicine. But it’s also dangerous.”
“Predators?”
“Many.” His expression grew serious. “The mountains protect us from the worst of the storms, but also became a refuge for every creature seeking shelter. Some are docile. Others…” He made a slashing gesture.
“We hunt only what directly threatens the village. We take what we need for food. Nothing more.”
“Sustainable practices,” I said, understanding. “Don’t take more than the ecosystem can replenish.”
He looked at me sharply, surprised. “Yes. Exactly that.” His eyes shifted to a warmer gold.
“It’s my hope that one day, the planet will be free of storms. That all native species will be able to thrive beyond the valley.
That’s why we’re so careful about what we kill. We are custodians, not conquerors.”
The philosophy was unexpected. Beautiful, even. I’d assumed a society this isolated and militaristic would be more focused on dominance and survival at any cost. But Rezor spoke of stewardship. Of planning for a future beyond the crisis.
“That’s…actually really forward-thinking,” I said, and meant it.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Small, but genuine. “You sound surprised.”
“Maybe a little. No offense.”
“None taken. We are primitive compared to sky people with devices in their heads and ships that fly between stars.” His gaze moved over the village with pride. “But we’re not unintelligent.”
“Never said you were.”
“Your face did.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then realized he was teasing me. Actually teasing. The stern, imposing leader who’d ordered us bound and dragged down a mountain was making jokes.
“My face,” I said with mock indignation, “is perfectly diplomatic.”
“Your face,” he countered, “says exactly what you’re thinking. It’s very expressive.”
“That’s a polite way of saying I have no poker face.”
“Poker face?” His brow knitted. “What is that?”
“Ah, that’s an Earth term. It means…hiding your emotions. Being unreadable.” I gestured at my very readable expression. “Which I’m apparently terrible at.”
He laughed. Actually laughed, a warm sound that transformed his features from stern to almost approachable. “This is not a failing. Honesty is valuable.”
“Even when I’m honestly thinking you’re full of shit?” I asked, even though it was doubtful the translator had a D’tran word equivalent to “shit” that made any sense at all.
“Especially then.” His eyes were fully gold now, amused and warm. “How else will I know when I’m being an arrogant ass?”
I blinked. “Did you just…?”
“Yes. I learned that phrase from listening to you speak with Baleck last night. The guards reported it.” He raised an eyebrow. “You called someone an arrogant ass. I assumed you meant me.”
Heat flooded my face. “I…may have said something along those lines. In my defense, you did order us tied up.”
“A reasonable precaution.”
“Still made you an ass.”
“One day I will have definitions of these insults.” He gestured ahead, where the settlement opened into a larger plaza. “Come. There’s something I want you to see.”
We walked through the plaza, past a well where people were drawing water, past vendors selling goods from small stalls. Baleck had rejoined us, looking pleased with himself.
“I learned seventeen new words,” he announced. “And I think I insulted someone’s mother by accident, but they were gracious about it.”
“Progress,” I said dryly.
Rezor led us to the edge of the settlement, where the buildings gave way to open ground and then forest. But before the tree line, there was a structure that made my breath catch.
A massive dome, maybe thirty meters in diameter, constructed from what looked like transparent panels held together by a crude metal framework. Inside, I could see lush green growth. Plants in organized rows. Vining vegetables climbing supports. Trees heavy with fruit.
“A grow facility,” I breathed. “That’s… That’s advanced hydroponics and climate control. Where did you…?”
“Salvaged,” Rezor said. “From crashed ships over many cycles. And from the tower.” He pointed beyond the facility, where I could just make out ruins rising above the forest canopy.
Twisted metal and broken crystal, half-buried in vegetation and time.
“The tower held much technology before it fell and some was salvageable. We’ve learned to repurpose what we could recover. ”
I stared at the grow facility, my mind racing. The engineering required to build something like that from salvaged parts was staggering. These people weren’t just survivors. They were innovators. Problem-solvers working with limited resources to create something genuinely impressive.
“Most of these plants are native,” Rezor continued.
“Some have been propagated for thousands of sun-cycles. When the storms began, our ancestors preserved what seeds they could before taking refuge. Later, after this was built, the seeds were revived and generations of plants are a living reminder of what this world once was. Perhaps, could be again. Other plants were cultivated from seeds found in crashed vessels. We grow what we can, hunt what we must.”
“You have many crashes here,” I said, taking in the different materials that had been used to create this structure.
“Yes,” Rezor replied. “But you are the first survivors in over fifty sun cycles.”
Well, that explained the fear and apprehension. “The tower,” I said, looking again at the distant ruins. “What was it?”
“A weapon, according to the old records. Built by enemies to control the weather and, therefore, us.” His expression darkened. “It fell in a landslide, giving us this refuge.”
“And you’ve been isolated here ever since.”
He looked at me, his eyes shifting back to that intense fuchsia. “Yes, until three days ago.”
We stood there in silence, looking at the ruins of a lost technology and the grow facility built from its remains. A civilization that had survived disaster through ingenuity and determination. That had adapted, preserved, planned for a future they might never see.
And I was starting to understand that maybe, we’d crashed in a place that deserved better than to be disrupted by three aliens with their own problems.
“I like this,” I said quietly. “What you’ve built here.”
Rezor’s eyes warmed to gold again. “Even though we tied you up?”
“Even though.” I met his gaze, ignoring the way my pulse quickened when those eyes shifted colors. “You’re doing the best you can with what you have. That’s all anyone can do.”
“That’s all anyone should do,” he corrected. Then, softer, “I’m pleased you see that.”
Something passed between us in that moment. An understanding, maybe. Or the beginning of trust. I wasn’t sure which, and I wasn’t sure it mattered.
What mattered was that I was standing in an alien settlement with a leader whose sacred marks glowed when he touched me, whose laugh made something warm unfurl in my chest, whose people had built a sanctuary in the midst of chaos.
And somewhere out there, beyond the mountains and in the storms, Zara and the others were either surviving or they weren’t. Either coming for us or...gone.
I couldn’t help them from here. Couldn’t reach them, couldn’t protect them, couldn’t do anything but hope.
So instead, I stood next to Rezor and looked at the ruins of the past and the growth of the present, and tried not to think about how much I liked the way he smiled when I called him an ass.
“Come,” he said finally, breaking the moment. “There’s more to see. And you should know all that we protect so you can understand the disruption you’ve caused.”
Okay. Nice moment was over. I followed him back toward the settlement, Baleck trailing behind us, guards maintaining their careful perimeter. The sun was lower now, painting the valley in shades of orange and gold.
And as we walked, I realized with a start that I wasn’t cataloging escape routes anymore. I was memorizing the way home. Temporarily home.