CollisionWithParadise (16 page)

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Authors: Kate Wylde

Tags: #Science Fiction, erotic romance

BOOK: CollisionWithParadise
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As if embarrassed by his own reaction, he picked up his pace, walking briskly and forcing her into a trot to keep up. She invariably fell behind and as she did, she realized that something had been gnawing at her since she’d stepped outside. Like a deja-vu…Then she had it

she’d envisioned all this, just as it was! She stared, gaping in stupefied awe at her revelation. This place was exactly as she dreamed it. How could that be? So she’d studied the vids extensively. But how could she have so accurately pinned the temperature and humidity, the sounds, the sensual breeze and heady aromas?

Azaes turned his taciturn face to glower at her with frustrated impatience. She gave him a lame smile and scrambled to catch up. He grunted and led her through an orchard of tall trees whose branches hung heavy with large gourd-like yellow fruits. Genevieve bent down to pick one that had fallen to the ground and examined it. Azaes, who had walked on ahead in silence, turned and hastened back to her side. “This is the fruit and the flowering inflorescence of the
fika
tree, which grows wild in our forests. You had it for breakfast today,” he reminded her.

She nodded. “It tasted wonderful.” The husk of the fruit had cracked open on impact with the ground and she pried it open, revealing the juicy flesh inside. She bent with her nose close to inhale its strong nectar-like fragrance. The sticky juice trickled on her hand and she brought it up to lick.

“What my sister may not have told you is that the
fika
, tasty as it always is, can also be fatal.”

Genevieve almost dropped the fruit. “Fatal?”

“The
fika
provides a good example of the symbiotic nature of our forest life, here on Eos,” Azaes continued, his taciturn face betraying no amusement at her reaction. “As the flowers develop inside the
fika
, a tiny flying insect, the
feek
, enters through the small opening at the top.” He pointed to what was left of the tiny opening in the cracked gourd she held. “It is so tight that the female
feek
tears off her wings as she pushes through. The first flowers she squeezes past are male, but they are too young to provide pollen. As she moves further into the fruit flesh where the female flowers reside, she dusts them with the pollen from the male flowers of the fruit she herself grew up in. Then she lays her eggs and dies soon after. The eggs hatch and the
feeks
develop rapidly, eating both flowers and fruit flesh. The male
feeks
are the first to emerge. They mate with the females and enlarge the fruit’s opening before dying themselves so the females can exit without losing their wings. While the
feek
larvae grow inside the
fika
, it makes seeds from the pollen the female
feek
brought in and the fruit’s own male flowers develop so that the female insects can take pollen with them when they leave. This activity causes the fruit to fall off the tree, making it available to eat by birds and other animals, which spread the seeds through their excrement.”

Genevieve looked down at the yellow fruit in her hand with a face of revulsion. She faced Azaes, nose flaring with the effort of maintaining her self-composure. “So, what you’re telling me is that this fruit is infested with insects and I just ate a pile of insect larvae this morning?”

He betrayed a faint smile of amusement. Was she turning green? “No,” he said. “We usually remove the insects, both the larvae and the mature ones, before we eat the fruit. The larvae look like grains of rice and the mature
feeks
are hard and black like seeds.” Then he added with a twinkle in his eyes, “The
feek
are quite nutritious, though. Some Eosians regard them a delicacy and eat the whole, insects and fruit.”

She dropped the fruit and took in a long inhale, trying to hide her revulsion and calm the nausea that roiled up. “Right,” she said. Just like the
buma
that no one ate. She wasn’t falling for that one again. Once she’d convinced her stomach to behave, Genevieve looked up again at Azaes: “You said the
fika
could be fatal? What’s that got to do with these burrowing insects?”

“Everything,” he said. “Only fruit that have been invaded by the
feek
are edible. When the insects mate inside the fruit, they release a chemical that neutralizes the poison made by the
fika
to protect itself from being eaten before it is ready to spread its mature seeds. The neutralizing agent lingers in the bodies of the dead male feeks. That is why we only harvest fruit that have fallen to the ground. Fruit that remain on the tree may be ripe enough to taste good, but have likely not been invaded by the
feek
. In this way the
fika
ensures that it is eaten only after its seeds have formed and ready to be spread and the
feek
are ensured a new cycle. The poison is an intensely powerful neurogenic chemical that acts swiftly and painfully. There is no antidote.”

Genevieve swallowed, staring at the bright yellow gourds and unconsciously wiping her hands.

Once through the orchard, she saw that he was taking her not back to the house, but toward another building that glinted strongly in the sunlight. It was no ordinary building. The two-story pyramid’s glittering smooth sides were entirely made of a clear pink-hued crystal. Excited, she turned to Azaes. “That was grown too?”

His mouth twitched into an almost smile. “Yes. All of it, including this.” He led her to a small doorway, which he manipulated open with a complicated set of gestures and words. When they entered the large room, she inhaled sharply at the sight. Three six-meter high hexagonal blue crystals stood in the room, towering up toward the translucent ceiling, whose corners were lined with a shiny copper-like material that radiated out from the apex. In the middle, not immediately observable, sat a red multi-faceted crystal at the end of an apparently brass rod that rose from the floor.

“This is where…” she trailed, overcome by a flood of emotion, and not sure why.

Azaes nodded, understanding. “Yes, where I gave my initial speech. That ruby crystal in the middle, the Fire Crystal, focuses and transmits an intense amount of energy over great distances. It is how we were able to communicate with your planet.”

Genevieve stared. “You built this? Designed it?”

He nodded again, unsmiling. “Yes. From a dream, an Epoptic vision.”

She nodded, keeping her expression calm to hide any sign of being impressed, and studied the structure. “What’s it do? I mean, apart from the obvious of interstellar communications.”

He turned to her, frowning with annoyance. She bit back a smile of devilish satisfaction. “Isn’t that enough?” he grumbled.

“Well,” she began coolly and pointed casually from the blue obelisks to the centre copper-coloured rod network and crystal sphere. “I’d say you have several interrelated energy systems co-existing here in some kind of symbiotic network.” Through her peripheral vision, she could make out his intense expression. Good. If nothing else, she’d rattled him a little. It bolstered her onward. “What is it?” she prompted and threw out her best educated guess with a trace of the fantastic. “Some kind of laser-fusion reactor/gravity wave generator?”

He betrayed both discomfort and rage beneath a good show of restraint, she thought, catching his mouth twitch tight and head snap back.

“Come,” Azaes said tersely, not even bothering to acknowledge her question. He ushered her out brusquely. “It is time to get you back. Other duties claim my time.”

Disappointed to leave but satisfied that she’d gotten a reaction out of him, Genevieve let Azaes escort her back to the house. She barely had time to thank him as he left her in the main hallway and rushed out of the house, sandals slapping the floor and robe flowing behind him. As if the thought had suddenly come to him, he threw a backward glance to her and commanded her not to leave the house.

“Whatever you say,
King
Azaes” Genevieve said in a sarcastic voice while bowing to the shut door. “Bastard,” she muttered, whipping off her robe and flopping face down on the soft
kosh
.

She didn’t see him again that day and ate alone that evening. Azaes’s sister served her a delicious dinner of ripe sweet fruit, nuts and a delightful roasted vegetable dish that resembled eggplant, zuccini and tomatoes. As if frightened of her brother’s wrath, Anka remained aloof and did not approach Genevieve, except to bring her dinner and clear the table. Not even Diaprepes came by, and Genevieve retired to her room, feeling abandoned, restive and frustrated.

Chapter Fifteen

The sun was barely up as Genevieve stirred awake with a long sigh. She’d had another wonderful dreamless sleep and stretched in her comfortable
kosh
. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with one hand as the other stroked open the warm
kosh
and opened her eyes lazily, then jolted.

“Diaprepes!” she burst out. The young man stood next to her wearing nothing, as usual, except a bright grin on his face. He was admiring her even as she quickly covered herself back with the
kosh
. “It’s considered rude in my world to enter someone’s private chambers unannounced.”

He nodded. “As it is in mine.”

“What?” she expostulated, pulling the
kosh
up to her neck.

He laughed at her confusion. “I’m sorry, but Azaes asked me to attend to you today, as he will be busy with meetings all day. He has a
Sthanu
Circle meeting in the
Posedonus
.”

“The
Posedonus
? What’s that?” she asked, reaching out for the robe she’d discarded beside her when she’d bedded for the night.

Diaprepes picked up the robe and handed it to her. “It’s a spiritual temple and the sacred meeting place of the
Sthanu
Circle in the town centre.”

Genevieve maneuvered the
kosh
and herself and slid into the robe without revealing more of herself. As she bent down to pull on her sandals, she looked up and grinned sideways. “Can you take me some place? Perhaps where others of you live? The town centre, for instance?”

“Yes, of course. Uruk,” he answered enthusiastically then instantly looked nervous and unsure. She tried her most demure look. It must have worked because he convinced himself that it was all right. “I’m sure Azaes would have told me otherwise. And he set no restrictions.”

“Great!” she said, forgetting about breakfast. “Let’s go, then.”

“But we must go by scree,” Diaprepes insisted. “You are not permitted in the Eosian forests.”

She nodded, wondering if the scree was that bird that had flown her here, the one she’d noted through her feverish haze.

Diaprepes led her to the large side building, which turned out to be an animal shelter. Three screes lay inside on beds of moss and grass. The smell inside was rather pleasant, somewhat musky, sweet and a little like freshly cut grass.

“This one brought you here,” Diaprepes said. He signaled for the scree to leave the shelter and it waddled outside. Diaprepes hoisted himself up by grabbing its long neck and swinging his leg over. Much like someone would mount a horse, thought Genevieve, doing the same with ease, and noticing that Diaprepes was impressed.

“Hang on,” he said to her, then said some foreign words to the scree. It leapt into the air with a shrill cry and Genevieve grabbed its feathers tightly. She had a wonderful view of the meandering brown river that carved through the thick multi-coloured rainforest. The town of Uruk lay snugly in a large bend in the river. Its streets were lined with houses much like Azaes’s place as well as a few very interesting unconventional structures in the shape of hexagons and pyramids.

Diaprepes directed the scree to drop them off in a park encircled with small buildings with awnings and tables out front laden with goods from food to trinkets. She realized that this was some kind of market and it was already bustling with people, all naked or course. Most glanced at her with some curiosity.

Spotting a café, Diaprepes turned to her enthusiastically. “Let’s have some breakfast! I’m hungry.”

Reminded of her own hunger, Genevieve heartily agreed.

Diaprepes sat down at an outside table in front of Fifa’s Cafe. Genevieve sat across from him. A waiter with no clothes on approached them and Diaprepes ordered a typical breakfast for the two of them.

As they waited for their meal, Diaprepes described the market. Then, noticing along with her that people were doing double takes, he offered, “At first they look because you wear the
Sthanu
robe. It is only then that they notice the hair on your head and your skin colour and have to look again.” He giggled. “You’re a celebrity. How does it feel?”

She wasn’t sure. Not that comfortable. The meals arrived and conversation was abandoned as they both concentrated on their food.

When they left the café Genevieve realized that Diaprepes hadn’t paid for their meals. Perhaps he had an account there. Just in case he’d forgotten, she said, “I take it you’re covered?”

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