Zonaton (4 page)

            The picture formed clearly in her mind. Eight creatures, one pilot, nine total. Miners. Their drilling ship was old and showed signs of being battered by debris.

            Emmala squinted, trying to see the strangers more clearly. "They look human."

           
Humanoid.

            A mental close-up came to her of the stick-thin visitors. Now she could see they had four arms and very large, almost prism-shaped heads sitting parallel to their wide shoulders. They wore some kind of grayish-blue costume with silvery metallic flakes that glittered eerily in the lights coming from their ship.

            "Why are they here? What do they want?"

            A picture of rocks came to her. The dark green rocks with glowing red flakes in them.

            "I always thought those were some of the prettiest. Feldarc, right?"

           
Correct.

            "What do they want with them? They're not much good for anything other than to use in construction."

            She felt a blankness. Zonaton didn't know.

            "Have you seen these people before?"

           
Yes. Once.

            "What happened?"

           
They tried to attack us.

            "Why?"

           
Because we did not want them here tearing apart our world.

            "Our world? They're not from here?"

           
No. They are from another world. Which one, we do not know.

            "Were they looking for feldarc back then?"

           
Yes.

            "What do you mean, they were tearing apart this world?"

           
They were digging massive holes in the ground. Setting off explosive charges within the mountains to carve out tunnels in their search for the rock.

           
"What did you do to stop them?"

           
We warned them. When they did not heed us, we attacked. We prevailed and drove them away.

            "Well, they're back now." She lifted her chin from where she was resting it on Zonaton's shoulder. "What are we going to do?"

           
Leave them. Watch them. Wait.

            The mind pictures he sent to her were as easy to read as printed words.

            "I thought you didn't like strangers stripping the planet. Why not send them away now?"

           
We do not prejudge based on past behavior. They could be here on an exploratory mission. But if they begin to do harm again, we will stop them again.

            "Without a warning?"

            A thread of humor wove through her mind. He found her question amusing.

            "They probably know you're already watching them, don't you think?"

            The geron swiveled his head around to look at her. If such a thing was possible, she would swear he was smirking with that hard beak of his.

           
I am hungry.

            She laughed and lightly punched him in the arm. "You're always hungry. But I'll be honest. So am I."

            Climbing aboard his back, she bent low over the long neck and grasped a double handful of skin folds. The geron launched himself into the night sky, effortlessly finding the air currents to keep them aloft.

            They circled the crater near where the strangers had landed, keeping high enough to where the two of them would be invisible against the ceiling of stars. Emmala buried her face into the ruff to protect herself against the cold. Despite the freezing temperature this high up, she was toasty. Zonaton's body radiated heat, and the scales covering his hide helped to keep her insulated.

            The circular range of mountains rose majestically above the flat plains, resembling a jagged crown that encompassed much of the planet's surface. Far away she spied the pale glow of lights that were the villages. Somewhere down there her parents lived in the home she used to share with them many years ago. But her life now was with Zonaton, and always would be. She didn't want it any other way, and she could not imagine living without having him beside her. Sleeping with the double thump of his immense heart singing its lullaby in her ears. Letting him keep her safe and happy, although there were times he risked himself to protect her. It was during those times she feared more for his safety than for hers.

            Their cave was dark when they landed. As soon as his feet touched the ground, she slid off his back and started to stroll toward the irregularly-shaped entrance.

           
Wait.

            She paused and raised an eyebrow in his direction, but she didn't question him. Not since that manganat tried to attack her six seasons ago.

            Rearing up, Zonaton belched. Opening his beak, he emitted a single, weak pulse of energy. The yellowish light flew into the cave, brightening its interior, and allowing the geron the chance to see if any danger lurked within. Satisfied, he nodded, and she went inside ahead of him.

            He threw a bright white plume of heat into the pit while Emmala dropped a chunk of doick onto the rocks sitting in the center of the hollow. It sizzled when it hit the coals, and steam rose toward the high ceiling, where it eventually exited out through a small fist-sized hole. As the meat cooked, she nibbled on the last of the ripening furber root and watched the geron gulp down the remaining raw doick.

            "Time to go to the store," she commented.

            Zonaton snorted. It was his way of laughing. Either way, he was amused. For the most part, he was the hunter, although she sometimes managed to scrounge for some of the more edible plants.

            Emmala stretched her hands out over the glowing hot pit. The scent of roasting meat wafted up to her, and she smiled. "Is that why you attacked my people when we first landed here? Because we were tearing apart this world like those miners did?"

           
They were destroying the natural formations. They showed no regard for us or the other creatures on this world. They had no consideration for the ramifications of their actions, or the fact that they were demolishing our food sources. Killing anything that got in their way. Tearing away edible plant life.

            "Why didn't you say so before you started killing them? Why didn't you tell them about the damage they were doing, and ask them to stop?"

           
We did. They ignored us.

           
Emmala paused to think. "That's not how it was explained to us when I was in school."

           
It is the truth.

           
"I believe you." She poked the meat, testing it for doneness. She sensed his curiosity, and halfway knew what his next question would be before he asked.

           
What were you taught about the landing?

            "That we started to settle here, and tried to build ourselves a new life. We tried to create our villages, but the gerons objected. They told us to leave the rocks and plants alone, but we had no choice if we were going to survive." She shrugged one shoulder. "When the settlers continued to establish a home here, the gerons attacked and killed nearly a third of us."

           
We returned to the settlers to reiterate our demands. They fired upon us first, leaving us with no other alternative but to fight back.

            Emmala gave him a surprised look. "You were there?"

           
I was young. I was at the rear of the attack, but I saw it all as it occurred.

            "Wow." She chewed on that realization, when another one struck her. "You were alive back at the original landing?"

           
Yes.

            "That means you're old, doesn't it?"

           
I am up in years, as you would say.

            She felt his humor. She also sensed he was holding something back from her. But before she could inquire, Zonaton shook his wings.

           
I need to inform the Elders of the miners' return.

           
"Think those miners saw the villages?"

           
Maybe. If they did, they may be avoiding them for fear of being detected.

            She made a face. "If that's true, it could mean those things are up to no good. People who avoid others usually have something to hide."

           
True, but remember these creatures are not human. Do not always assume they have human tendencies. There is also the possibility that they do not care about the villages or the inhabitants as long as the villagers do not get in their way.

            Again, she felt his smile, although the horned beak couldn't physically grin.

            The geron walked to the cave entrance and scanned the outside area. His two-legged stroll was stiff, his clawed hands perched on his hips. His long tail nervously whipped back and forth. In the firelight, his silvery hide gave off a reddish-yellow glow. From the back, he appeared otherworldly, a winged creature nearly twice the size of the average human male. But from the front, he was more human in appearance, like a man with an eagle's head and wings.

            Emmala remembered how her teachers often showed the class old vids of imaginary figures from ancient Earth. Dragons. Griffins. Gargoyles. Gerons were like a combination of all of those, and yet were none of those. For one thing, dragons and griffins were monsters. They weren't considered to be intelligent. Nor could they talk mentally. She read his body language as she watched him check for danger.

            "You sense something, don't you?"

           
No. I do not sense anything, but I am wary. When strangers land, we are always cautious. Especially if they are ones we have dealt with in the past, and in a negative way.

            "But they're far away from us. How could they be a danger?"

            She felt his irritation. He matched it with a hooded look which he threw her way. Emmala shrugged. "Forget I asked."

            She pulled the dagger from the sheath attached to the belt around her waist and stabbed the slab of meat, cutting a slice from the end. Blowing on her dinner a few times to cool it, she carefully tore at the seared hunk with her teeth. Zonaton remained watchful by the entrance.

           
Stay here. I will return shortly.

            She didn't answer. Most of the time, whenever he said he would return shortly, it was because he had to relieve himself. For herself, there was a metal pan lined with dirt sitting near the cave opening that she used because Zonaton refused to let her roam outside to potty. A few dangerous animals lived in these mountains, or scaled them to look for prey. None of them would venture where they could smell geron, but a single human alone and appearing unprotected would be too much of a temptation.

            Once she finished eating, she washed up in the thin stream of water from the small pool near the back of the cave. She also rinsed out her shirt and pants as best she could, and laid them over a nearby boulder to dry overnight. The fabric was a dull gray color, allowing her to blend seamlessly with Zonaton's shade.

            She fingered the worn tunic. She'd asked him once where he got the tops and bottoms she wore when she was growing up. Clothes that always fit a bit too big at first, and more often than not became mere rags before she actually outgrew them. He never gave her an answer, so she assumed that somewhere in one of the villages, occasionally someone would discover a set of clothing missing from the drying lines behind their home.

            These days, keeping up with her growth was no longer an issue. She'd reached womanhood some time ago, which meant the only time Zonaton had to bring her a new set was when the other was beginning to come apart at the seams.

           
I'm going to need another set of clothes before too long. The ties in these pants are going to snap soon.

           
There was no answer in her head, but she knew he'd heard her.

            The fire in the pit was slowly going out. Quickly, Emmala drew on one of her old sets of clothes she used now to sleep in.

           
 
I will be there shortly.

            He knew she was tired and becoming chilled. His reassurance made her smile.

            "Okay," she murmured, and laid down on the simple pallet near the fire.

            She was asleep when he returned to the cave. It wasn't until nature woke her that she discovered him lying beside her, one arm around her waist, his body tucked alongside hers, and a wing covering her like an insulating blanket.

            Carefully, she extracted herself from his embrace and went to use her pan. After a quick drink of water to ease her parched throat, she hurried to return to his warmth. The cave was cold. Although the entrance was buffered on two sides against the wind, this high in the mountains the air was bone numbing at night.

            She started to crawl back underneath his wing when she spotted the new clothing lying in a neat pile next to the pallet. A small amount of light from the double moons allowed her to see well enough inside the cave, but it wasn't enough to tell what color the garments were. Smiling, she bent over and placed a kiss on the great beak.

            "Thank you."

            There was no mental reply, but a flood of contentment washed through her. His happiness became hers, and she easily slipped into sleep.