Zonaton (9 page)

           
Because of your mother, Emmala.

           
"What?" 
She blinked.
"What do you mean"?

           
Think about it. You are intelligent. You can figure it out.

           
And she did. Without any effort, she remembered how her mother often justified her brutal actions.

           
"I'm only doing this because I love you, and I want you to grow up to be a young lady people will like. I want you to grow up to be a law-abiding citizen, and that means I have to teach you."

            She stared up at her mother, who stood over her with the belt that she'd used to beat her. Already the pain-filled lashes were welling with beads of blood on her buttocks, legs, and back.

            "Remember, Emmala. It's my duty as your mother to teach you right from wrong. And every time I punish you, it's because I love you."        

           
"Hey, are you all right?"

            She looked up, unaware that she had buried her chin in her chest during her silent conversation with the geron. "What?"

            Hawse drew an imaginary circle around his face. "You zoned out on me."

            "I was talking to Zonaton."

            He grinned. "Really? Just now?"

            "Yes."

            "Wow. What did he tell you?"

            She opened her mouth to reply, then decided against it. "He says he's on his way back." It wasn't really a lie. Hawse had no idea how far away the geron was. No more than she did. But Zonaton would return for her. Eventually. As she'd half hoped, the young man reacted in the way she wanted him to.

            "I guess that's my cue to leave." Getting to his feet, Hawse turned to leave, paused, and looked back at her. "I've missed you, Emmala. I've missed seeing you take walks with your dad. I've missed seeing you in the classroom. Did you ever get to continue your education?"

            "Yes. I still am. Zonaton teaches me things on a daily basis."

            "Like what?"

            "Like how to survive."

            "How does he do that?"

            "He shows me how to hunt. How to find food. How to build or find shelter. How to make a weapon, and how to protect myself."

            He thought about it, finally giving a slow nod. "Sounds a lot better than some of the crap I had to learn. Well, goodbye, Emmala."

            "Will you be back?" Now that he was going away, she could forgive him for some of the things he'd said. A slight sinking feeling in her stomach made her realize how much she craved human contact, in spite of how much she loved being with Zonaton. She wasn't prepared for the look of fear that crossed the young man's face.

            "I don't know if that's a good idea."

            She frowned. That wasn't the kind of response she'd expected. "What do you mean?"

            That expression of fear appeared again. "What if your geron finds me with you? What if he beats me up the way he beat up your mom?"

            Her heart sped up. "What are you talking about?"

            "You don't know?"

            "Know
what?
" she asked, exasperated.

            Hawse glanced up at the clear sky, as if expecting Zonaton to be there. Emmala wondered why he was fearful about seeing the geron. When he looked down at her, she noticed his face had grown paler.

            "Your geron beat up your mother pretty badly. The villagers are up in arms about it. They're demanding you be returned to your real family, and for the gerons to permanently retreat to the other side of the mountains, and leave the villages alone."

            "It's not true. Zon would never attack someone. She's lying." Getting to her feet, Emmala faced him in a defensive stance, feet apart, hands balled into fists.

            "You haven't seen your mother's wounds," Hawse told her.

            "She's
lying
. If she has wounds, Zon didn't put them there." A thought came to her, and she challenged him with a lift of her chin. "When was Zon supposed to have attacked her?"

            "Soon after you left the village."

            A darkness blanked out her mind for a moment. She had little memory of what happened after the geron returned them to the cave. All she could recall was his calming presence as he eased her fretfulness and soothed her into sleep, until she awoke the next day. If Zonaton left the cave after she had gone to their pallet, she would not have been aware of it. That one tiny bit of doubt began to fester inside her.

            Hawse must have seen her indecision. "Look, I need to get back to the village before someone discovers me gone. Can I...can I come see you again? Would that be all right?"

            "I would like that," she confessed.

            "Here? Or elsewhere? By the way, where do you live?"

            Emmala pointed toward the mountains. Disappointment covered the young man's face. "I can't climb all the way up there. Is there a chance you could come back here to the fields?"

            "Perhaps. I can ask Zon to bring me here again."

            Hawse smiled. "That would be great. I'll keep an eye open for you. Would you mind if I came to talk to you again if you did return?"

            Normally, her aloneness didn't bother her. At least, most of the time it didn't. She was very content with the life she shared with Zonaton. But now that Hawse had entered the safe little bubble that was her world, she realized she wanted more of his company. To talk to him, and to discover what life was like in the village. To hear if it was the same as she remembered it, or if it had changed to where she could no longer relate. Smiling at him in return, she nodded. "I would like that very much."

            "Great! All right. I'll come see you again if you return. Hopefully soon."

            "Yes. Soon."

            After exchanging small waves of farewell, Emmala watched her old childhood friend trudge back toward the village. As he slowly vanished into the distance, she felt a sense of remorse, seeing him go. He'd made it clear he was frightened of her geron, especially after he claimed Zonaton had attacked her mother.

           
"Zon, we need to talk."

           
Although the creature could sense her emotions, and they could mentally talk to each other directly, the geron could not read her mind.

           
I am on my way.

           
Oddly, for a fleeting moment, she thought she sensed fear coming from him, and it surprised her. She didn't think gerons feared anything.

            With one final glance at Hawse's retreating figure, she hefted her pouch and started walking toward the mountains as she waited for Zonaton's return.

Chapter Eleven

The Observation

            He circled high overhead as he scrutinized the miners' activities in the pocket crater. As far as he could tell, there appeared to be no drilling. The area was smooth and undisturbed, and that worried him. Taking rock samples was expected, but as far as he could tell, the aliens weren't doing anything other than sitting there. Like they were  waiting.

            He peered closer. Waiting for what? Why show up and do nothing? It didn't look right, and it certainly didn't feel right.

            Another thing that caught he noticed was the ship's configuration. Instead of a smooth, practically seamless exterior, a set of perfectly straight lines were embedded in the top of the hull. A three by three pattern of identical rectangles. He made a mental note to bring it to the attention of the Elders. He had no memory if, the last time they had battled the miners, if that ship was the same model. Maybe it was. Maybe not. Regardless, this ship showed obvious signs of age and wear to confirm it wasn't a new design.

            Landing on a craggy abutment, Zonaton crouched and narrowed his eyes. A couple of miners emerged from the craft to observe him. They knew they were being watched. They had to have known their arrival and presence would not be ignored, considering their past conflict with the gerons.

            But something was wrong. Something was off. He would bet his wings on it.

            Sitting back, he let his mind drift to Emmala. She seemed excited about something. Something pleasant. She was happy, and that made him happy. He knew he would never be able to erase the memories of her early childhood, but the passing of time made many of them fade into obscurity.

            Taking off, he made another lap around the crater, this time skimming the lip. He would go no closer, for fear the miners were armed and would have no compunction about shooting him down.

            Irritation arched through him, followed by a touch of fear. Instinctively, he rose higher, his mind no longer on the miners. Emmala's mood had changed for the worse.

           
Zon, we need to talk.
Her direct thoughts broke into his. A quick probe back to her failed to sense any sort of physical pain or distress, but he could tell she had something she urgently needed to discuss. What could have occurred?

           
I am on my way.
He reassured her.

            After one final look at the black ship, Zonaton banked hard to head toward the village, and the berry field where he'd left Emmala.

Chapter Twelve

The Questioning

            "Zon, did you attack my mother?"

            He set down the haunch of barrabura to give her his full attention. With that one question, he understood the uneasiness he'd sensed in her ever since her meeting with the young man from the village.

           
Is that what he told you?

           
"Did you?" she persisted, avoiding his own question.

           
No. I did not attack your mother.

           
"But after we left the village, and you brought me back her to the cave, did you go back to the village?"

           
No.

           
"Did you leave me alone at all?"

           
Yes. I went hunting for something to eat. That is why you had cuboa and mistoll for your morning meal when you awoke.

           
He watched as she picked at her bowl of stew she'd made from the barrabura meat and the last of the peachunk plants. She believed him when he denied hurting her mother, yet there was something else bothering her. Something more.

           
What is worrying you, Emmala?

           
"Can they make me leave you?"

           
Who is they?

           
She shrugged. "I don't know. The people with power, like the councilmen. Or the Elders."

            Walking over to her, Zonaton knelt in front of the young woman.
You know I was called to see the Elders today. You mother has gone to the council to tell them I attacked her, so I am aware of her accusations. I told the Elders I did not do those things she is accusing me of.

            "I believe you."

           
I know you do.
Still, the Elders are concerned. It appears the villagers are growing increasingly angry over the restrictions placed on them, and they are using this purported attack as an excuse to start placing demands on the Elders.

            Emmala frowned. "What kind of demands?"

           
There are several, including removing the perimeters around the villages. They want The Walk ended. And they want all Paired humans returned to their rightful families. Your mother wants you to return to your home.

            "No." Her response was immediate and filled with fear. But Zonaton could also tell she was gathering herself for a fight. "No. You're my home. This is my home. I'm not going back to the village, at least not to live there. I'll go there at the Elders' request, but that's all. That's all, Zon." She paused, and he saw her lower lip tremble. "Can they make me go back? Can they take me away from you?"

            He took the bowl from her grasp and sat it to the side, then clasped her hands in his.
I will protect you with my last breath. I will do everything within my power to keep you with me. You must also remember that, by the laws of your own species, you are an adult. You cannot be made to do anything against your will.

           
She pulled her hands away and stood. Throwing her arms around his neck, she buried her face in the soft leathery folds and pressed her body against his. Zonaton responded automatically, drawing her tightly to him as he reveled in the feelings that radiated from her. A familiar stirring deep within his groin started to respond, but he mentally pounded it into submission. He could never let Emmala know how she was beginning to affect him. The knowledge would repulse her, and possibly drive her away. Fighting his own body's growing demand, he held her as he became increasingly aware of her soft skin and firm musculature.

            After a long while, she finally lifted her head. "Take me back to the fields tomorrow."

           
To meet with the boy again?

           
"Yes."

           
Want me to stay with you?

           
"No. He fears you."

           
I understand. I will use that time to check on the miners again.

           
"Does anyone watch them when you're not there?"