IGMS - Issue 12 Read online

  Bright pink flowers climbed the sides of the hut and met in a waterfall of color over the roof. An archway of woven wood stood against a slat fence. Purple and white blossoms dangled in bunches from the arch, clouding the air with an earthy-sweet scent. "This is where you live?" I asked, feeling as though I'd just stepped into one my student's fairytale stories.

  "Karla!" I recognized Shandra's voice, but I had to step back onto the carriage platform and look over the heads of the crowding Reisans to find her. She was waving to me from the window of her own carriage. "I knew we'd both end up in Arway! I just knew it!"

  "Come find me!" I called, but I wasn't sure she'd heard me. Her carriage was already disappearing into the horizon.

  "Ragin Karla," came my husband's low voice. "We should enter now."

  I made my way toward the home. As I stepped over the threshold, a chorus of shouts exploded, and I had to cover my ears. Green hands slapped my Reisan's back, and he shouted along with them in words I didn't recognize. Jolly faces peered through glass-less windows. Dried flower petals were tossed inside.

  Bodies pressed so hard against the outside walls they creaked, and I was afraid they'd come crashing in. What had seemed a friendly party outside turned fierce. Feet stamped. Hands clapped. The fife screeched like a burglar alarm. My husband's arms bulged with trying to keep a stampede from swarming into the house, and I saw a leering yellow eye over his shoulder. I dove under a table.

  Then I heard his voice in staccato words. A great sigh of disappointment passed through each set of lungs, and feet began shuffling away. The front door closed. The bolt slid into place.

  "Wife?" he called.

  I don't know why I didn't answer.

  "Wife Karla?" He peered under the table. "Come out, please. It is safe."

  I lowered my hands from my ears and stared into his blue, blue eyes. I didn't want to come out. Oh, but I didn't.

  "You are hungry, I think. I will show you hotcakes, and then we will sleep."

  "I know how to make hotcakes," I said. It was about the only thing I knew how to make without a Repli-Chef, except I called them pancakes.

  "Then we will work together."

  I was too frightened to eat. I crawled out anyway.

  Night came, and I feared it. He stood in the doorway, watching me with that soft, nervous expression he'd had when we first met, and I'd smiled at him then, not knowing he would belong to me. Or rather, that I would belong to him. Fingering the metal clasp in my ear, I didn't smile now.

  He unbuttoned his shirt as he moved toward the bed. He slipped the flannel from his shoulders and folded it neatly. His thick dreadlocks bounced against his broad shoulders, and his biceps clenched as he laid his shirt in a chair. He had a build that came from hard work, his muscles thick and strong, but not chiseled like so many statues I'd seen in books.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me, and his shoulder blades shifted beneath his green skin as he removed his boots, one at a time. It was such a human sort of movement I forgot for a moment he was an alien creature from an alien world. Then he twisted to face me, and blinked lidless eyes at me, and I swallowed back an urge to scream.

  He flinched as though I really did scream.

  I looked away. "I came to this planet in a different solar system in six days," I said, as though he didn't already realize.

  He nodded, and his head tilted a little.

  "But we made pancakes on a stove we had to stoke with firewood, and we rode in a horse carriage, and you have oil lamps instead of electricity."

  He nodded again. "We have technology beyond yours, but we know the arrogance of relying on it."

  "You choose to live like this?"

  "You were not expecting this, either. You regret your decision."

  "It wasn't my decision."

  "Ah. That is right." He frowned. He slid into the sheets and sat forward to rest his arms across his bent kneecaps.

  "You're taking advantage of a planet that has no choice. You sought us out when it suited you, and you help us only to save yourselves."

  I'd never seen an angry Reisan face, but judging by how his jaw tightened and his eyes simmered, I guessed I was seeing one now. "You presume much about my people," he said.

  "A people can only be judged by its actions." I met his face like I always met Mama Iris's. Chin lifted, eyes steady.

  "There is no need to anger me, wife," he said, and flattened back against the bed, turning away from me. "I was not going to touch you."

  I awoke from a dreamless sleep. A shaft of yellow stabbed through the window and glittered the hairs on my arm like gold dust. I stretched lazily, listening to the cheerful whistles of unfamiliar birds.

  Then a new sound broke through. A soft, grating sound, like wood against wood, maybe. I swung my feet over the side of the bed. I hadn't yet replaced my shoes, but the texture of the wood floor was pleasant beneath my feet, and I wiggled my toes.

  I noticed a new dress over the back of the chair where my husband's flannel shirt had laid last night. My husband. Dar'el. I practiced the name in my head, formed the word with my lips. Dar'el.

  There was a book on the seat of the chair with a handwritten note that read "For my wife." Seeing the word in print had more impact than hearing it, for some reason, and I picked up the note to stare at it, turn it over in my hand, read it again. I tucked the note into the cover of the book, and then leafed through the pages. I couldn't read the language, and it was broken into chunks of paragraphs with footnotes and digits throughout the text.

  Next I pulled off my canvas dress, and stepped into the soft lace of my new one. Three pearl buttons clasped it shut against my throat. A satin ribbon drew it tight around my waist. It seemed too fine a dress for denim-wearing man like Dar'el, but perhaps it was a gift. A wedding gift. Like the book.

  I was already in the doorway when I realized I'd thought of him as a man.

  I carried the book toward the chafing sound into the backyard. I paused then, looking out over the green grass that flowed up and over a sweep of low hills in the distance. Wispy trees bent like ballerinas in the wind, reaching leafy arms in graceful arcs. I wanted to go there, to walk slowly among the trees, to feel the sun bake my skin and let the rough earth scrape beneath my feet. I was startled, because I'd never had such a thought before.

  First, I had to discover the source of the gritty sound coming from the small shed behind the house. I crept toward the wooden structure and peered inside.

  Through a haze of powder, I saw Dar'el bent over a slab of wood with his back to me. He was running a sheath of knobby paper over the wood, smoothing it in long, rhythmic strokes. He'd stripped his shirt, and pine dust clung to the sheen of wetness across his skin. For a moment, my breath caught. Then I remembered myself. I refused to be attracted to him. He was green and horrid.

  "Dar'el?"

  He cast a look at me over his shoulder. Then he straightened and faced me fully. Wood chips clung to his cheeks and to his green chest hair gone curly with perspiration. His eyes were wide and startled as they took me in.

  "It's a lovely dress," I said, though I suddenly had the urge to cover myself with my arms.

  He turned his eyes back to the slab of wood. "I was not sure it would fit," he said.

  "It does."

  He nodded, still looking away.

  "And you've given me a book. I can't read it. What's it called?"

  "It's a book of my faith."

  "Oh." After an awkward pause, I smoothed my hands over my hips. "This dress seems awfully nice to be working in."

  "Working?"

  I crossed toward him, crunching wood shavings with my feet. "Won't I be keeping house, or helping in some way? Maybe I could learn to smooth wood, like you're doing."

  "You would use your hands to learn a trade?"

  "Of course. Don't the other women around here do that kind of thing?"

  Dar'el drew the heel of his hand over his brow. "There are only three females in this villa
ge, and two of them arrived yesterday."

  I frowned, trying to comprehend.

  "You know the state of our people," he said.

  I actually didn't. "What's happening to you?"

  "For years our elders have been dying, with no babies to replace them. We have tried to undo the damage we have caused ourselves, but we can not mend all things without help."

  "What kind of damage?"

  "Advancements that have eaten away at Reisas, much like how your earth suffers, and chemicals that have eaten away at Reisans themselves."

  "So," I said, curious despite myself, ". . . how are you trying to mend?"

  "Many believe our low-technology course of action has helped reverse the state of the planet. Some governments have forced their citizens to live without electricity and common convenience, but it has not come to that in Flayete Region. There will always be those who can not bring themselves to leave the cities, but more citizens choose to settle into free land each year."

  "Like you," I said.

  He nodded, turning back to his sanding.

  "So you're a pioneer." I smiled.

  He paused with his hand on the timber. "As are you," he said, and the tips of his white incisors peeked out when he returned my smile.

  A knock sounded on the door, and then a face poked in, surrounded by chunks of dark, springy hair that drooped into yellow eyes. Familiar yellow eyes. "Ragin Dar'el? Vech tet rushtamen."

  "Tet turashtanet, Alen Ra'nen." He laughed, and gestured the Reisan in. "Karla, my friend Ra'nen."

  "A pleasure," I said to the creature that resembled a green sumo wrestler. I was surprised the man could squeeze through the doorway.

  "Pleasssure," the man echoed, his yellow gaze scorching down my dress. The skin at the back of my neck puckered. I scooted closer to Dar'el.

  "Juresh tayet te reminot es?" Dar'el asked.

  Ra'nen shook his head, but stuck out his fat hand for a shake. "Winish. Ken katet sho ranna mishaket es winish en vet. Soo venna tet fah."

  Dar'el gripped his friend's hand around the wrist. "Ah, des. Des ret."

  Ra'nen beamed brightly, then hiked up his trousers around his bulging belly and nodded. "Des ret, tet." He leered at me. "Pleasssure," he said. I'm sure I saw him suck a blob of spittle out of the corner of his mouth.

  I looked at Dar'el, but he didn't seem to see it.

  The fat Reisan squeezed back outside.

  "He has invited the village to a dinner in our honor, and Van'el's and Shandra's. Tonight, in his barn."

  "That's nice of him," I said, though I had a creepy feeling. "Are you going to be working long out here? I was thinking of walking in the hills across the field."

  "How long would you like me work?"

  I smiled. "No, I meant, maybe you could go with me."

  "You wish me to join you?"

  "That's what I said, isn't it? Is my English so bad?"

  "For a moment, I doubted my own." Dar'el returned to sanding his plank of wood. "I will need half the morning to finish the bed frame for Dresh K'tarn."

  "In the mean time, I'll learn my way around the kitchen, and the mystery of heating water for your bath when you're finished."

  He paused and regarded me.

  "It's the least I can do. You have been very kind."

  "Do you mean it is the least you can do, or the most you can do for me?"

  I couldn't hold his gaze. I turned for the door. "You regret your decision, too, don't you?"

  "It was not my decision, either."

  I was afraid to ask him to explain. He returned to his sanding, more vigorous than before, so he wasn't going to take the initiative. Just as well. I don't think either of us wanted to talk about it.

  Reisas was blessed with two moons that turned layered shades of pink and gold as night fell. The landscape sucked in the moonlight like a desert drinks rain, and the whole area took on an ethereal glow. Dar'el's flesh effused with the radiance, turning a pale milktoast color that looked almost human. As long as I didn't look him in the eyes, I could almost pretend he was.

  He walked me across a soft field of yellow grass that tickled my knees. "If I didn't know any better, I might think you're keeping me barefoot on purpose," I said.

  He glanced at my feet. "I didn't put your shoes out with your dress?"

  "I didn't see any."

  He walked quietly for a time, and then he laughed. Or, rather, he squeezed his lips together, trying not to laugh, but it snuck out. "I thought it was a custom of earthlings to go without."

  I smiled, too. "I thought it was some weird initiation ritual."

  He shook his head, his smile lingering. His eyes had turned gold beneath the Reisan moon, and I saw them roving my face, searching.

  Then his face turned away, and he looked ahead at the path. "There is the barn. Sounds like they started the party without us."

  He was right. The ground was vibrating from staccato drums. When he opened the door, twittering melodies of what sounded like flutes and clarinets were so intense, I wondered if the village had hearing problems.

  "Oh, Karla!" Shandra's voice managed to squeal over the thunderous music, and I peered at the crowd, trying to find her.

  "Do you love this village?" Her hand found my shoulder and spun me around. Her face glowed like Dar'el's skin beneath the moon, and her brown eyes were wide, happy.

  Seeing her face, I wished I did love it. I wanted to be able to smile like that.

  "You're still angry," she said, her glow fading.

  "I'm glad you're happy." I touched her hand. I didn't want to spoil things for her with my gloominess. "Are you going to dance?"

  "Yes, I think so. Van'el went to find me a drink."

  I regarded her bright face while her eyes combed through the milling bodies for a glimpse of her husband. Her expression struck a realization. "Shandra . . . do you love him?"

  She turned, her dark brows arched. "Is that surprising? I am married to him."

  "But you only met him yesterday!"

  She smiled. She lifted a thin shoulder in a helpless shrug. "He's so gentle."

  I stared, unable to process the thought.

  "Did you know the only other woman in this village is such an old crone she hardly comes out of her shack?" Shandra leaned in to whisper. "We're the first young females some of them have ever seen. Can you imagine?"

  I shook my head.

  She smiled again. "I thought it would make Van'el hurried and clumsy. But he wasn't." She sighed, and touched her brown fingers to a hint of blush on her cheeks.

  "Ugh! I do not want to know!"

  Shandra laughed. "Come on, don't tell me you and Dar'el haven't . . ." Her voice trailed, and she blinked. "No! Didn't he . . .?"

  I crossed my arms. "I didn't want to and he knew it. I don't want to talk about it."

  She shook her head. "Amazing."

  "Amazing for not sleeping with someone I don't know?"

  Shandra saw Van'el coming and took a step to meet him. She tossed a look at me over her shoulder. "I didn't mean you."

  I was just about to say something witty when I felt a yank on my arm so hard I thought it would pull out of the socket. I was dragged through the barn door, too surprised and fighting to keep on my feet that I couldn't get a good look at who was man-handling me. Until moonlight washed over the features of the chubby arm that gripped me. "Let me go," I said, recognizing the leer of Dar'el's sumo wrestling friend.

  He pulled me toward a shadowed cleft between two field boulders. He wedged me in while I kicked at his chest and clawed at his face. Now I knew what fingernails were for. "Let me go!"

  "Durashtatat," he growled, and gripped immense fingers into my hair. "Pleasssure."

  I screamed and writhed. I was not going to let this fat freak have any part of me. I did not come millions of miles to a new home just to be ripped to shreds like could've happened on earth where I would have preferred it! I lunged at his face and bit hard onto whatever green flesh was closest to my mouth.
I felt something soft. I clenched.

  He howled. He yanked back, dragging me with him. He flopped to his back, and I landed onto his soft belly. But I was still attached, and the best I could figure, I was latched onto one of his many green chins.

  "Karla!" I head Dar'el's voice and the soft thud of his hurrying feet. His hands pried me loose and drew me back, wrapping his arms around my middle. "Ra'nen! Ils a tet duran enem!"

  "Let me at him!" I twisted in Dar'el's grip, trying to claw out Ra'nen's eyes. But Dar'el walked backward so I couldn't reach. Ra'nen climbed to his feet, his chest heaving. Dark blood dribbled from his chin.

  He stuck a plump finger at me. "Human girl is my turn!"

  Dar'el set me down, but guarded me behind him as he inched forward to hiss at his friend. "Sssshayan, Ran'en." He threatened a fist at the fat one's face, his nostrils flaring. "Ssssshayan."

  More thundering footsteps gathered, and soon all those from the barn were crowding around, pointing or gaping. Shandra wedged through them to grip my shoulders and pull me back. "Karla, what happened? Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine." But I was trembling so hard I could hear my bones rattle inside me.

  Dar'el swept a glare over the gathered Reisans. "Shayan! El yuritet!"

  Now Van'el emerged from the wall of men, and moonlight bathed his face, his features pained as he looked from Shandra to me. "An. Anyetel arn reshtitet," he said.

  "He says we have a right to know," said Shandra.

  "Know what?" I stared at the faces around me, trying to figure out what was going on.

  "I don't know." But her voice sounded as though she had a pretty good guess. She released my shoulders and hurried toward Van'el to wrap her arms around his chest. He hugged her and disappeared with her into the crowd.

  "Know what, Dar'el?" I reached a shaking hand toward his arm.

  He glared once more at his friend, and then guided me quickly across the field and toward the house. "I am sorry. It still does not give him the right to act like a . . ." He snarled, his face twisting while he searched for the word. "Mongrel," he finally said.

  My feet stumbled to keep up. "You're scaring me."