The Tale of the Blood Diamond (23 page)

Come on Jayme, pull yourself together!

She fought for the right words, but her tongue stayed heavy while she chased coherent thoughts to utter.  The man had finally admitted the damned truth and laid it before her. There would be no more secrets kept to protect the innocent.

I’m going to fight. I don’t care who the hell walks in here, I’m going to fight!

Yes… she was going to fight, bloodied head or not, scared to death or not. She’d fight because she had a baby, a mother and a father, a brother and friends that she loved. She popped out of her chair, took another look around her living room and met eyes with the man she knew was going to risk his own life to give her what she wanted…what she needed.

“I’m ready. I can do this, Xzion. Tell me what I need to know, show me how to help you. I’m not just your wife; I’m your partner. Forever…”

“Bravo!” his sister called out, clapping, her face still twisted in a condescending smirk. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to go into a fetal position and cry. Glad to see you’re willing to grow a spine. Geesh! I don’t buy any of this. She is just like all the others, and will only get in our way. Can we just put her away somewhere while we get this worked out?” Cxeza barked.

“Excuse me?! Let me tell you something, See-ex-suh, you don’t know —”

“Stop.” Xzion put his hands up and turned towards his sister, his brows furrowed and a look of heated anger on his face. “Cxeza, I wish to speak to you alone, but first, you are going to apologize to my mate.”

The woman stood there defiantly, her lips sealed. She crossed her arms and turned away, as if nothing had been requested. She didn’t give one damn.

“I said apologize, NOW!” Xzion roared, the vein in his neck pulsed as his voice shook the damn place, causing Jayme’s ears to ring. She’d not heard him yell that way, ever.

Cxeza turned to Jayme, her eyes hooded as she did as instructed, belted out a half -assed apology. “I’m sorry if my words offended you. Maybe you should go lie down while we take care of this. Is that better?”

I outta punch you in the damn throat!

Before Jayme could protest and land into her, with her damned fist preferably, Xzion grabbed the woman by the arm, and harshly dragged her out of the room. The woman twisted and turned in his grip. The woman went off in their native language — no doubt cursing Xzion out. Xzion was responding back in the same way, the same angry tone, and Jayme couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were saying.

She stood there with all of the beings and the Zarkstormians, just her, and them, and the song, ‘How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)’, by James Taylor coming through softly over the radio.

“Uh…” Jayme stumbled over her words. “Well, can I get anyone anything to drink?”

*
***

Xzion stood outside in the freezing cold with the woman he’d grown up with and took care of. They grew up in the same house, had been sent away to the same school, and though they were in different military branches and two years apart, they stayed in communication. Cxeza had always looked up to her older brother; she was proud of him, or so she claimed. Now, she looked at him as if he were some science project gone bad. He hated it, but this wasn’t about him or her, it was about so much more. Looking at her reminded him of their mother, as Cxeza was almost a splitting, younger image of her.

“I’ve let your attitude slide since you’ve been here, Cxeza. I know how you, Mother and Father feel about my wife and myself still being here. I do not care what your opinions are. She is my mate, and you will respect her!”

“She is a weak parasite that happened to get lucky and have your child. Nothing more. Hey, it isn’t her fault.” The woman smiled ever so lightly. “She’s human.” Cxeza threw up her hands. “There is nothing she can do about her deficiencies.”

Xzion pointed in her face, and talked through gritted teeth. “Don’t you
ever
speak of her that way to me again, or to her, or in front of her to others. Do not speak to the troop about her in a negative fashion. Do not speak of her at all if you must continue this! Those men look up to you — you are their leader. What you say holds weight and right now, you are a dishonor!”

The woman recoiled as if he’d shot her with a laser gun.

“What nerve, Xzion. You are the one that impregnated an Earthling! No one has told you just how disgusting many of us think that is, because you are feared and your offspring provided the cure. It’s looked at as ungrateful to utter such a thing, for due to your perversions, we have renewed life. There were plenty of Zarkstormian women who could have been your mate! This was totally absurd. Nevertheless, the nature of the whole thing is absolutely grotesque and if I’m the only one brave enough to tell you the truth, so be it!”

Xzion’s hand trembled by his side. He tried with all of his might to resist hitting the woman. His eye warmed and his insides jellied. He’d never felt such rage towards his sibling in all of his life, and she definitely had a way of pushing buttons as of late — but this time she slammed the buttons down with a balled fist.

“Oh, so you want to hurt me now?” She looked at him and took a cautious step back. “For telling the truth? For telling you what everyone is thinking but won’t say?”

“Cxeza, I’ve never been more disappointed in you as a Zarkstormian as I am right now, at this moment. You have failed. Unfortunately, you and I share the same bloodline, the same lineage. You’re a disgrace, a dishonor to our people.”

He didn’t miss the narrowing of her eyes — what he said hurt, though she’d never admit it.

“At one time, I didn’t understand and was much like you, though I never felt such relationships were repugnant. I simply didn’t see the desirability. You are young and naïve, you are foolhardy. Your heart is closed, as mine was. I cannot change that, you must go on your own journey, but as you stand in my house, with my wife, you will follow my orders. I cannot have someone here, even if she is my sister, defying my position. I cannot have you here, to help ensure the safety of Earth, if you detest my choice in being married to an Earthling and harbor hatred for my child.”

“I do not hate the child. I dislike your choice in a mate not because of what she’s done, but who she is —”

“And your estimation about this matters
because
?! I dislike you, as my sister, right now, but I had no choice or say in your existence and placement in my family. Right now, a part of me wishes you didn’t even exist. The ugliness you spout makes you highly undesirable to be around let alone share the same air with.”

She looked at him in shock. He’d had enough of her shit, and it was time to make things crystal clear.

“If you cannot pull your head out of your anus, and you choose to continue along this path, I will ensure that you return back to Zarkstorm immediately.”

The threat was real, and she knew it. If she was sent back to Zarkstorm due to insubordination, she’d never be able to live it down. It would be the ultimate shame. Just then, Zachary came out onto the back patio. He looked up at his father, then at the woman. Jayme made a mad dash soon behind him, and pulled his arm.

“Come on Zachary, baby!” She smiled and waved to the two of them. “Sorry, honey. He wanted to see where you were at and got away from me as soon as I turned to get him something to eat. Come on back in here.” Jayme picked the boy up in her arms.

“Wait…” Cxeza spoke. “Can I…see him?”

Xzion realized Cxeza had never seen her nephew before, only pictures of him. Gently, he removed the boy from Jayme’s arms and handed him to his sister. He stood there with his arms folded as he watched her examine the boy, and the corner of her lip trembled ever so slightly as she commenced with her inspection. She even sniffed him, her nostrils flaring then relaxing repetitively. This wasn’t unheard of for Zarkstormians during an investigation but more than likely offensive to his wife, though Jayme remained quiet.

“I’m not used to being around babies, little children,” she explained, as she nervously looked the youngster over. Xzion knew she was mesmerized — something about feeling him, touching him, was doing something to her almost instantaneously. Looking concerned, Jayme seemed to be biting her tongue. He appreciated her resolve as he worked through the tense situation.

“Hi.” Cxeza mustered a smile as she looked into the boy’s face. “My name is Cxeza, and I’m your aunt.”

Zachary ran his tiny fingers over her lips, prompting her to look at him in surprise. Jayme turned and walked away, leaving the three of them alone but not before looking Cxeza from head to toe in disdain.

“You see?” Xzion broke the brief silence. “You speak in such hurtful ways about this child, about his mother, like he is some freak that should never have been conceived. You don’t even know him and you know little of her. You judged her without being in her presence for more than ten minutes. You are not clairvoyant; you have no way of knowing her soul, her spirit. That woman and the child of mine that you hold, are my life! If you disrespect my wife then you disrespect my son, and if you disrespect either of them, then you disrespect me, too.”

Cxeza swallowed, but remained quiet.

“I would do anything for them and if it even means going against you, Mother and Father and the entire planet of Zarkstorm, so be it. We are Warriors, Cxeza! We fight for what we believe in, the hell with everyone else. If you can’t consider my position and you work diligently against it, then you are an enemy. I have no issue reclassifying you…”

“Xzion, but I don’t think you understand my position.”

“No, I understand completely. I do not struggle with comprehension regarding the matter. You are jealous of humans, Cxeza, and don’t even know it. You are jealous of how free they are to feel, to express. I’ve been standing here, trying to understand what would drive you to be so self-centered and forbidding, and it has finally come to me. I’ve observed the way you looked at Jayme. You stared at us for the longest, trying to decipher. She is not only my chosen mate, but my lover, and you don’t understand it — but a part of you wants to. You protest too much. I’m in love, and it intrigues you. It may revolt you, but it fascinates you as well.”

“Untrue. You need a woman who is strong, who can endure.”

“My mate is
not
weak! Don’t you know your brother better than that?! How could I ever share my life, my world, with a mate who wasn’t befitting of my needs? There is
nothing
presented to her that she has backed down from,
nothing
! Can you say the same?”

Cxeza lowered her head and looked away from him as she continued to cradle the little boy, holding him a bit tighter.

“Look, Cxeza, this is how I see it. You are afraid, just as I was, because of how we’ve been raised and our culture. I struggle with my Intellect and Warrior side on a daily basis. I’m conflicted more times than not, but I always hope to do the correct thing. No one else is like me, and that is revered, but for me, at times, it is a struggle to have the duality inside of my brain and body.

“You must see me as weak, too, because I fell in love but I’m the strongest I’ve ever been in my entire existence. If love makes me fragile in your eyes, then you must be blind. Weakness is
not
in being afraid, or failing. Weakness is allowing that fear to stop you from experiencing new opportunities and never getting up to try your hand at your mission and to complete your goals. The only thing disgusting right now is your behavior, and I shall never forget it.”

He turned and walked away several feet, needing to escape her. He hated that he wanted to do her physical harm, but she’d pushed him with her callous words. He took a deep breath and reflected over the encounter, going deep within himself.

I’m angry. Not just because of what she said, but because of how terrible it is to see my former self standing and speaking before me…the self-righteousness, the arrogance…it sickens me.

Jatorn stormed into his mansion, the door swinging open and slamming shut so hard, the thud echoed from floor to floor, like an atrocious warning to all who dwelled there. Xzion had single-handedly killed so many Yuledrakes, he now had no choice but to face the enemy head on. He made his way into his office where the ceiling, stained glass and illustrious, showed depictions of ancient Yuledrakes enjoying riches. He sat as his desk, took a deep breath and waited patiently for his teeth to retract. It was a daunting process. The news was so upsetting, his body had instantly gone into fight mode.

He picked up his phone and spoke calmly into the receiver after taking a few deep breaths.

“We must get Xzion; we must stop him at once! He dismembered my men. I’m sending everyone over. Contact Vex and Bosi at once. They have direct orders to begin, now!” He slammed the phone down after giving the directive to flood Earth with Yuledrakes, Lyalts and Morphitians ready to siege and kill.

Xzion was worse than he imagined and once he was told that morning that Zarkstormians were on Earth — an entire army of them — his head swelled with concern as he drained his reserve of patience. Things were getting messy, completely out of control. He never thought they’d move so fast. They were a calculating breed; this struck him as out of character. It was as if they’d realized something he did not.

What would motivate them to go to these lengths to do this?! What are they protecting?!

****

Xzion turned off the television and cast his alert gaze at the rows and rows of Zarkstormians sitting on the edges of their cots in the old warehouse store he’d provided for the militia. In the last three hours, the Yuledrakes had rained down on them with their unruly terror, slicing, cutting and tearing so many from limb to limb. The news blasted reports, one after another, yet confusion still owned the planet. The religious zealots said it was the end of times, that the apocalypse had officially begun. A few said it was a war between Good and Evil while some said it was a catastrophe caused by all the liberals of the land… Every time an alien invasion hit, this was the reaction. Whether it was the ozone layer being destroyed, a tsunami, a multitude of hurricanes, political rights and fighting, an odd disease with no cure or a person born with a horn smack dab in the middle of their forehead — it was blamed on the same thing, each and every single time.

Preachers jumped up and down in their pulpits screaming that everyone had better get their lives together and get saved. Die-hard crazies declared they were ready for the zombies, and had their homes packed with illegal artillery that they more than likely didn’t know how to use properly. Down at the precinct, Jayme came back and told him there were rumors of vigilante and rouge cops causing the mayhem. Some even believed the President of the United States was behind this. The conspiracy theories were staggering, and to these, of course, the door to door opportunist who offered down payments on underground shelters for the Armageddon that was headed everyone’s way. That theory actually had a thread of truth in it… Xzion sighed and thought hard and heavy about their opponents, the ones that had started this entire disaster.

Regardless of their strategies, there were not enough Yuledrakes in all of Drakenard to pull this off; thus, they hired some of the vilest creatures known to tread the universe — the Morphitians. Jatorn had expert assistance, and these sort of grizzly killings took on a whole new scent… Morphitian was written all over them. Somehow, people were being taken off guard, and he understood now what was happening. The Morphitians were fooling people into trusting them — wearing masks at the parade, then slamming down a fistful of grizzly murder upon their victims’ heads. He’d yet to see a Lyalt, but it was only a matter of time…

“At your feet,” he commanded.

Every single Zarkstormian military personnel in that room hopped in place like a windup toy set to ‘Go.’

“Tonight, we commence. Please complete your final training practices in this building. In this corner,” all eyes followed the red beam that shot out of his right eye, used as a laser during the dire instruction, “is all of your weaponry. You have enough to last you, at the minimum, two months. It will be re-stocked on a continuous basis should this last longer than a couple of weeks. Under your feet is additional shelter. I built it last week. Inside are emergency food supplies, water, one ship, and three pods to take you back to Zarkstorm. The vessel houses ninety-five Zarkstormians, the pods no more than two. There are obviously hundreds of you here, so please first use them for the injured. As you can see, I have separated the warriors from the intellectuals. This is for cross training.” A group of about thirty Warrior soldiers stared across the room at the Intellects.

“Aton has just arrived with a long list of duties before he can speak to you, however, rest assured he is backing all of my instruction. Before you go out there tonight, remember these things: Not all of you are returning back home after this is over. Thank you in advance for your sacrifice. The Yuledrakes are afraid of you. Use that to your advantage. The Morphitians are even more afraid of you, but they can go into stealth mode. They will try to trick you. Trust no one. Come up with a password and create subgroups among you, in order to relocate one another and avoid confusion that may be caused by our adversaries. Do not hesitate to kill a Lyalt. They’ve declared war on us by teaming up with Jatorn despite our previous peaceful co-existence with them. If they come out of hiding, it is to kill, and if they can reach you, it will not end well.

“Warriors, be careful of your eyes. The Yuledrakes like to collect Zarkstormian warrior body parts and have been itching to have these,” he pointed to the red beam shooting out of his iris, “for centuries. They’ve not yet figured out how to remove them and make them boot-up without the host, that being us, but Jatorn is eagerly waiting to get his hands on
mine,
personally. In any case, do not give him the satisfaction. If you find yourself dying, shut down your eye internally immediately, to make it that much harder, and so that they may not try to get any top secret information we have stored on them.”

They nodded in understanding.

“And finally…protect the humans. Do whatever you must, but we must stop their bloodshed at once. Whether we like it or not, we are indebted to them. If my son cannot survive on Zarkstorm, then Earth is his only option. Protect his mother’s nation. His survival is Zarkstorm’s survival. Shoraw! (Let’s do it!)”

“Shoraw!” they shouted back, then turned on their heels and loaded themselves with artillery to go into a separate area for another class before their descent upon the city.

Xzion looked around at the dark gray cement walls, a color that matched his internal worries. He, too, could die in this war. He and three others were prepared to disengage the bombs. It would only be a matter of time before Jatorn’s short fuse blew, and he’d decide to blow their whole world up.

Jatorn, my men are brave. We will die with honor. I don’t pray, but your actions made me start. My first prayer was that I get to kill you, personally. I hope God grants my request. If he does, I will be forever grateful…

*
***

Jayme’s chest heaved up and down as if it were on hydraulics. She was now in her black, ribbed tank top and baggy cargo pants, the ones with the deep pockets to hold her brand spanking new ammo. It was only twenty degrees outside, and Xzion was kind enough to keep the interior temperature at sixty-seven, but she continued to sweat, her nerves plaited like licorice yet to be devoured. Nothing was sweet or delicious about this shit, and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to catch her breath for a long while. She swallowed and tossed her messy fishbone braided hair over one shoulder. Xzion stood at the other end of the line he’d formed in front of himself, like a heartless drill sergeant. Moments previous, without making eye contact, he nonchalantly jammed an odd, long barreled gun in her hand. She had the weapon now in her possession, and she had the run down. Go for the hollow of the ribs… She knew every damned detail.

Washington DC was being the hit the hardest because Xzion was there, and a maniac she’d never seen wanted her husband wiped out so that these Yuledrake sons of bitches could terrorize and take over in peace. Okay, she got that — that was logical to some extent. What she didn’t get were these other creatures, yet some of the Zarkstormian Warriors were scarier than the two-headed beast that now stood, gathering its belongings to fly back home. The damn thing was in close proximity to her. It had arrived late that afternoon, did not speak English and smelled like vinegar.

It seemed friendly enough, but then she saw it open its tiny mouth and reveal piranha like teeth as it sucked down an insect from a jar. Her stomach flipped and turned in disgust. Several times, she had to close her eyes and refocus, to tell herself it was not a dream, and no matter how horrid these things looked, they were not there to harm her. In fact, they’d risked their lives to be of assistance. Many of them appeared to be having trouble breathing in the Earth’s atmosphere, and would take time out to get themselves together through specially constructed breathing masks. One creature breathed through its skin alone, and had to rub a specially made solvent on the tough, fibrous dark red mess.

And then, there was Cxeza, her sister-in-law. The woman was fascinatingly insane. She ran a training session earlier that day and was just as outrageous as her big brother when it came to confrontation. The woman’s eye sliced shit up like a loaf of bread and she had the focus and strength of ten human men. She too was a Warrior, but didn’t possess her brother’s duality gifts. Nevertheless, her attractive face and feminine body sent mixed messages. The woman was the wrong one to dare and though Jayme now loathed the little ass, she had to hand it to her — the woman was skilled and knowledgeable. Jayme felt in good company.

“Jayme, did you hear me?!” Xzion barked. The man’s temper was raging.

“Yes.” She kept her tone even, refusing to engage in battle with him at that moment.

“What did I say then?” She didn’t miss the slight sneer on his face and the disturbing tone of voice.

I know this fucker isn’t trying to pull rank on me in front of all of these…all of these…people.

“I heard you,” she said through gritted teeth.

She didn’t dare look up at him a second longer, but could hear him stomping towards her, each footstep angrier than the last. Before he could start in on her about drifting off in a daydream, she looked him square in his eye and it took everything for her to not lunge at the fool.

“You said I am to do it like
this
!” Without looking at the damn weapon, she cocked the strange thing as if she’d been doing it all night. She clicked it twice, the sound boomed and echoed, and in her grand finale, her eye still on the sparrow, she held the intimidating weaponry straight up in the air as if it were a flag. For a few moments, the man stood still and silent, then the corner of his mouth twitched. He was fighting a damned smile.

“Very good.” He didn’t pass her a grin; he’d fought it and won. Walking away from her, he resumed speaking to the crowd. As she seethed, she didn’t even notice he’d returned to her. This time, he grabbed her braid and forced her head back to expose her neck to him.

“Ahhh…” She sighed. There was something in his touch that reminded her of something so recent… Oh yes, when he’d taken her against the wall then dragged her down to the floor, fucked her and they’d fought and argued throughout the whole damn thing…

She closed her eyes and trembled as the man delicately caressed her neck with a feathery touch of his lips, snaked his mouth along her jaw, then planted a firm but sweet kiss on her that made her sway. He walked away, as if nothing happened, then began again with his explanations to the crowd.

Unable to recover from the hedonistic show of affection, she lost her breath once again. Her eyes bucked out as the man held what appeared to be a grenade. He tossed it about between his hands, as if it were a mere tennis ball.

“And this here, of course, is for our Morphitian friends.”

A light burst of laughter filled the room — only Jayme didn’t join in the banter.

“Just push this little button.” He circled an indented area with his short thumbnail. “Then jam it into their mouths, doesn’t matter if they are in their original form or not, and it will eradicate them, and
only
them, right there on the spot. It’s like instant vanishing cream…but of course you have to be sly enough to get close to them, first. Then,” he held the contraption up higher, “this will take care of the rest.”

For the next hour, Jayme stood there, watching practice maneuvers and runs. All the while, Aton had her son, holding him tight as he journeyed from area to area, giving instruction as well. The man didn’t smile outwardly either, but for some odd reason she was sure he was, somewhere deep inside. Zachary seemed particularly fond of Aton, so much so, he had to be pried apart from the man in order to eat his dinner. After gulping down his peas, carrots and tapioca, he immediately sought the Zarkstormian leader out, gluing himself to the guy once again.

Jayme caught the time from the clock on the wall. As if all-knowing, when she turned back around, Xzion was staring at her.

“Go.”