The glow of pride I felt preening under the envious stares of the others as they gazed upon the trophy Susan had bestowed upon me faded at the sight of my mother’s anger. She had been so happy when she first went to greet my mate. What could have possibly transpired through their conversation to cause her to be so upset her scales would redden?
I excused myself and headed directly towards my mate who seemed both embarrassed and distressed. She watched me approach with a mix of relief and guilt.
“Good day, my mate,” I said, stopping in front of her. “Are you well? Is everything all right?” I asked before casting a sideways glance at my mother.
Susan shifted uneasily on her feet and chewed on her bottom lip while thinking of her answer.
“I’m fine,” she said carefully. “I guess I asked a question that your mother did not appreciate. I didn’t realize it was that sensitive of a topic. I didn’t mean to upset—”
My mate froze, her eyes widening as she gazed upon the leather harness adorning me. I puffed out my chest, making the harness stand out even more. Her eyes flicked to my wristbands and then to the hilt of the hunting knife hanging on my hip. I had woken at dawn and labored all morning on this.
“Is… is that blood?” Susan asked with an air of disbelief.
“Yes!” I said proudly. “Your gift to me.”
Her jaw dropped, but I couldn’t decide if horror or wonder prompted that expression.
“I have cut the sheets only to keep the bloody parts and treated them with tormedium,” I explained with enthusiasm. “It has darkened or burned out all the fabric that didn’t have blood on it so the blood would stand out. Then I have divided it into perfect sized pieces for my harness, wristbands, and weapons. You only see the dagger now, but I also have a part of you on my hunting lance and bow,” I added with a grin. “Then I covered the pieces in purified sotomac resin to seal them forever in this current state and then embedded each piece in the various accessories. I sewed them in the leather myself and did the blacksmithing as well. There is one last piece however that I have requested one of the Crafters to set for me,” I confessed sheepishly. “My touch isn’t delicate enough to craft jewelry, and I want two strands of your blood as ornaments for my quills.”
Susan continued to stare at me for a moment longer, apparently rendered speechless by what I had done.
“Wow,” she finally whispered in a tone that I couldn’t interpret. “You went through all this trouble to wear my virgin blood?”
“Of course! You have chosen me above all others to share your first and only blood. It is a great honor that I do cherish,” I said with sincerity. “I get to carry this special piece of you with me, everywhere I go. The other males are dying with envy. No other among our people will ever receive so unique a gift from his mate.”
A flurry of emotions fleeted over her features. Susan snorted then shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it before giving me a strange smile.
“You are very sweet, Olix. I am glad it pleases you,” Susan said in a soft voice.
She smiled and caressed my upper arm affectionately. The gesture reminded me of her touch on me last night, the softness of her around me, her moans in my ears. I clamped down on the thoughts as my stem threatened to harden again. Now wasn’t the time to couple with her. I just hoped she would wish to repeat it tonight.
However, looking at my female, it was plain to see she didn’t understand why I had done this with the bloodied sheets and probably found it bizarre. A part of me was disappointed my work hadn’t elicited the proud and joyful reaction I had anticipated. However, even though she didn’t quite understand it, my reasons for doing it had touched her. In the end, that mattered the most.
I smiled back before movement at the edge of my vision reminded me of our original topic of discussion.
“But, going back to your conversation with my mother, what question did you ask that upset her so much?” I asked carefully.
Susan looked troubled again. “We were talking about the public market and the fact that your people are crafting items for sale. I asked if you’ve ever considered using all the lands you have at the back to grow produce to sell at the market.”
My spine stiffened, and I barely reined in my own anger wanting to come to the fore.
“Judging by your reaction, it is definitely not the question to ask,” Susan said with a sad expression.
That made my anger melt. I didn’t want to upset my mate. It was a fair question to ask, especially considering her background. That was but another thing I should have taken into account when informing Kayog of my requisites for a mate. Then again, had I excluded farming, Susan wouldn’t be by my side right this instant, and she was rather growing on me.
I sighed and nodded. “Let me give you a tour of the village and surrounding areas, and we can talk at the same time,” I said, gesturing towards one of the paved paths. She smiled and fell in step with me. “Farming is a sensitive topic for my people ever since the Vaengi upended our lives. Five generations ago, they came to Xecania. It was my people’s first contact with an alien species. As we’ve lived in harmony for centuries with the handful of other species inhabiting our planet, my ancestors had no reason to expect treachery from these newcomers.”
“But they enslaved you instead,” Susan said.
I nodded. “Their first action, before they even spoke a single word, was to kill the Clan Leader,” I said in anger. “Everyone else was given a collar that inflicted pain and could even cause death if they refused to obey. For the next 54 years, my ancestors were forced to work the land until they died of exhaustion. The Vaengi called it farming, but it was a desecration of the land. The earth and water were poisoned by the chemicals they forced my people to use. It caused terrible rashes to those who worked the fields. Some of their scales even fell off and never grew back.”
Susan covered her mouth in horror as she listened to the tale, barely looking at the various houses we were walking past.
“My people suffered horribly. We would probably still be facing that same hardship if not for one of the Vaengi savagely beating a young female named Molzeg,” I continued.
Susan gasped. “Molzeg? As in the elder that married us last night?”
I smiled. “Molzeg and Pawis—our Elder Gatherer—are the only two still alive who had interacted with the Vaengi as they were both younglings at the time. Everyone else you see here was born after our ancestors routed them. When the adults started tending her wounds, they noticed her collar had been damaged from the beating.”
“Wow,” Susan whispered, her eyes widening in awe. “I bet your people were panicking at the thought the Vaengi might discover it and replace it with a functional one.”
“Yes. That was exactly their fear. They would never have another chance like this,” I said, pleased that my mate was so caught up in the story. I gestured at the Great Hall that we were just passing in front of. “This used to be the common room shared by all my ancestors under slavery. They slept, ate, and lived there the few hours they weren’t working the fields. Molzeg was lying inside that day, being treated. She was a willful child, barely eight years old, and demanded they all heal her as best they could then went back to the fields.”
“Right there and then?” Susan asked, impressed.
I nodded. “She walked past one of the supervisors isolated from the others and jumped on him. Even as children, Andturians possess greater physical strength than the Vaengi. She had no difficulty overpowering him, despite her wounds. His controlling device failed to cause her pain. So, she killed him, took the device, and used it to release the others.” I looked at my woman with a triumphantly vicious grin. “They massacred the invaders who took too long to realize the collars no longer worked. They had grown so complacent that they didn’t have the original lightning weapons they had used to subdue my people.”
“You killed them all?” my mate asked, her eyes sparkling with a vengeful glee that pleased me tremendously.
“Some of them managed to flee,” I said, shaking my head. “The next day, they returned with greater numbers, but my people were ready. They had spent the night recovering all the Vaengi’s weapons in the dwellings and practicing using them. They hid in the nearby forests, some in the fields, and only a handful in and around the buildings then basically hunted down the invaders. My people moved faster, were stronger, and knew well how to hunt. The Vaengi’s technology did not save them.”
“So, after another defeat, they finally let you be?” Susan asked.
“Not right away. They came back a couple of times and failed both attempts. We had their technology to warn us of their approach. They failed because they assumed we were too stupid and primitive to understand,” I said with disdain. “But what truly convinced them to leave was that our Hunters went to the other species inhabiting our world to also find them enslaved. They freed them using the devices and helped them slaughter the invaders. The Vaengi realized there would be no easy way for them to reclaim what they had lost.”
“So, how did the United Planets Organization manage to get a foothold here and convince you to join their alliance?” Susan asked.
I laughed. “It took quite a few attempts from them, and a lot of near tragedies for the emissaries they sent. But it was the Temerns that convinced us to speak with them. Like Molzeg, they have affinities to see beyond what others can. They understood our emotions and how to interact with us in a way that would build trust.”
“Their empathic abilities,” Susan said with a nod.
I smiled in agreement. My mate sighed, a somewhat disappointed expression descending on her features.
“And ever since, your people have been dead set against anything revolving around farming,” Susan said with resignation. “I knew your people had been enslaved, but now I understand better why you feel so strongly against working the lands again.”
“I am pleased that you understand,” I said with relief while continuing the tour of the village.
I pointed out the various points of interest, including the larder, the dry food storage areas, the location of crafting materials and equipment, as well as those of completed arts and crafts. We didn’t have a store or currencies per se within the village. Anything we wanted, we traded for in exchange for another item or service. In some cases, a request would simply be granted in exchange for future compensation. Nonetheless, whenever someone no longer wanted or needed something that was not expected to be sold at the market, it was placed in a common storage. Anyone who wanted it could simply take it. Otherwise, every dwelling had an individual storage for things we wanted to keep and not give away.
Susan expressed a great deal of interest in the common storage. While I had no issue with her redecorating our dwelling however she saw fit, the things that held her interest confused me. Still, I continued the tour, showing her the school, meditation gardens, healer’s hall, play areas for the children and the different ones for the adult sports and physical activities, and then the pier and beach area.
But just as I was readying to conclude the tour, Susan insisted on visiting the land surrounding the village. I immediately got a bad feeling about that request. Nonetheless, I complied and showed her what she wanted. The awed expression on her face as she walked over the abandoned field further distressed me.
She crouched down at one point and took a fistful of soil, breaking it between her fingers before letting it trickle back down to the ground. It had taken years for the environmental damage of the Vaengi’s farming methods to be reversed. Some of it was due to the United Planets Organization sending experts to clean the toxins in the land and water.
Although Susan said nothing, I could see her wheels turning and the excitement growing on her face. She then noticed a couple of abandoned buildings at the edge of one of the largest fields behind the Great Hall.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing at it.
“The one on the left used to be a tool shed, while the one on the right used to contain seeds and other farming resources,” I explained.
“Can we take a look inside?” Susan asked in a voice full of hope.
I stared at my female for a second, my discomfort increasing exponentially. Agreeing with a stiff nod, I led her to the buildings. During the whole walk there, her eyes flicked in every direction as she took in the environment. As far as I knew, it didn’t differ much from the human’s original homeworld, planet Earth, aside from our more colorful vegetation and our three moons. In their world, most plants came simply in various shades of green, and trees mostly had brown bark. On Xecania, the leaves on the majority of the plants were purplish blue or a brownish red, although we did have plenty of greenery, too. And our bark tended to be in darker shades without ever fully being black.
The buildings both sat unlocked. Despite the many years of disuse, like everything in Monkoo, they’d been built to last. A bit of dusting and airing would suffice to make them usable again as their former contents had been disposed of decades ago. The spark in Susan’s eyes as she explored the large buildings further twisted my insides. I stood still by the entrance of the former shed, bracing for what would follow.
“Any chance I could make use of these buildings?” Susan asked.
“Just the buildings?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
She shifted on her feet and rubbed her nape with a guilty expression on her face.
“Well, I’d also love to be able to use part of the land outside,” she admitted in a sheepish voice.
I stared at her, forcing myself to silence the anger bubbling below the surface. I didn’t want my scales to turn red on my female, especially not the day after our union. But Spirits! Had she not heard a word of the story I’d just told her? She’d acted as if she understood how my people felt after our liberation, and not even an hour later, she was asking me for land?
“Look, I can guess what thoughts are going through your mind right now,” Susan said in an appeasing tone. “I understand what tragedy befell your people, and that you have all since forsaken farming. I respect that. I’m not asking you or any Andturian to work the land.”
Although I remained circumspect, those words alleviated part of the tension stiffening my spine.
“However, I am a farmer. My entire life has revolved around working the land. It’s what makes me happy,” she said carefully. “These lands are the richest and most amazing I have ever seen in my entire life. As a third daughter, I have never owned land. I only got to work those that belonged to others. This… this would be my chance to finally have a little something that’s mine. But it would also allow me to have a bit of home with me.”
Her words, and especially the longing in her voice, troubled me.
“How would it allow you to have a bit of your home with you?” I asked, confused.
“Last night, the feast was wonderful,” she said in a gentle voice. “But as much as I enjoyed every dish, all of them were completely foreign to me, not only the recipes, but the ingredients used. From my conversations with Luped, Xecania doesn’t possess any of the produce that are the foundation of human diet. Can the Gatherers find me potatoes, squash, or portobello mushrooms in your forests? There also are no strawberries, corn, or garlic here. How would you feel if you moved to a world where you would never again be able to eat roasted jovam roots?”
I recoiled at the horrendous thought. Jovam roots were at the heart of the Andturian food culture. Jovam was used in everything. Boiled, roasted, mashed, fried, it could even be turned into dessert.
“I would go insane if I were to never have it again,” I conceded.
“Well, this is currently what will happen to me,” Susan said, the pleading tone seeping back into her voice. “I am condemned to never again eat my version of jovam, unless you allow me to use a part of your lands to grow some human produce that cannot be found here. And we both know how prohibitive the cost would be if I tried to have some transported here from another planet just for me.”
I nodded slowly. She would never find a transporter who would go through such trouble just for her, not to mention the complication of transporting perishable items over a long journey in space, and the risk of introducing contaminants in our ecosystem.
“All right,” I said carefully. “But why do you need both buildings?”
“My personal belongings will arrive later today or tomorrow,” Susan explained, getting excited again. “I own very few things that aren’t farming related. I only have some clothes, and everything else are things I had hoped to use to grow some human produce. Mostly equipment and seeds for the things I’ve described to you. I would use part of the shed to store that equipment, and the other part to grow mushrooms. They do quite well indoors.”
That would actually help reduce complaints from the people. The less they saw her farm outside, the better it would be.
“And the other building?” I asked.
“It would be for my seedlings,” Susan said. “I will plant the seeds in small containers and start growing things indoors for the first two to three weeks. It is better for some vegetables to be started off that way before being exposed outside. These buildings have huge windows, so there will be plenty of sun coming in, without the problem of bugs, wind, or possibly excessive rain.”
That, too, would be good. Two to three weeks to give the people more time to get to know her and make their peace with her needs might help things go over more easily.
“How much land would you need?” I asked.
All the tension that had bled out of me came back with a vengeance upon seeing the look on her face.
“All of that area,” she said, showing a massive section of land with her index finger.
“WHAT?!” I exclaimed, feeling both offended and like I’d been played for a fool. “You said you just wanted a small section to grow things for yourself!”
“I DO! I promise, I do!” Susan said, raising her palms in an appeasing gesture. “I know it looks big, but it’s not when you think of it. I want to grow multiple things: potatoes, squash, watermelon, cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, corn, and wheat, just to name a few. For each of them, I need a certain area for multiple of those plants to grow. That adds up.”
“Why do you need multiple if it’s only for you?” I insisted.
“Because vegetables take time to grow,” my mate explained patiently. “Some take weeks, but most take months. If I only have one or two plants of everything, I’ll only be able to eat certain things for two days every three to four months and have nothing left in-between. That’s terrible! But if I have multiple plants, I’ll be able to eat some every week.”
Once again, it was a fair point. And yet, my gut told me that I was being conned. Nevertheless, I found myself forced to accede to her request for lack of strong counterargument.
“Very well, my mate,” I said, making no effort to hide my reluctance. “You may use both buildings and the parcel of land you requested. “BUT you will be discreet about your activities and not try to lure others into working the land. If you need help bringing things here, or having specific tools crafted, you may ask for assistance, but do not be surprised if few consent. It is nothing personal. However, you are opening a very sensitive wound for my people. I hope you understand that.”
Susan appeared troubled by that comment. While it saddened me to dampen her enthusiasm, I appreciated that she seemed to grasp the seriousness of the matter.
“I promise, I will not flaunt it,” she said, sounding chastened. “I swear that I am not trying to cause trouble for you, and I do not wish to disrespect your people in any way.”
Somewhat mollified, I grumbled a response then herded my mate back to the plaza. But even as we were approaching it, the silhouette of a transport shuttle in the distance announced the arrival of Susan’s personal belongings. As worried as her farming plans made me, her squeal of delight and the joy on her alien face made it impossible not to smile as well. Her happiness pleased me.
Luped joined forces with me to unload an impressive number of crates and containers onto a hover platform while my mate raced back to the shed to start cleaning it. By the time we were done moving all of her belongings into the two buildings, the sun was already setting on the horizon. Despite her eagerness to start sorting out and organizing her belongings, Susan willingly came back to the Great Hall with us for the evening meal and community gathering.
There would be time enough for her projects on the morrow.
