Oriehn

Chapter 9- Alice

"Is there a way to see if a person has been bonded or not?"

"Yes. Your mark will become translucent, and glowing, instead of the one you have now. I think that is the only one besides the obvious. Anything else?" Drai asked, and I shook my head. "All right. I am going to take you to your cabin, it's next to mine and Sin's."

"Okay," I agreed. Drai led me down a flight of stairs and put a key into my hand.

"There's your cabin." She pointed. "There will be some necessities already in there. Clothing will be provided later, according to your size and style. If you have questions, I will be in the third room on your left. Sin will be the one across from yours."

"Thanks, Drai," I said, and she waved good-bye.

Taking a deep breath, I closed the door behind me and stepped in. I examined the furniture, and it seemed to be made from a kind of metal. Surprisingly, when I sat on the bed, it was incredibly soft. I was guessing the mattress was different as well.

Sighing, I crossed the room to sit at the desk, which conveniently had a laptop. Suspicious, I examined the computer, searching for evidence of tampering, or perhaps a bug that would track my server history. Sleek and shiny, it seemed to be made of some strange metal similar to the one which made the furniture, but no physical evidence could be found proving its existence.

Doubtful, I thought, the Oriehn wouldn't place their trust in an outsider so willingly. Taliesin even held doubts. Shaking my head at the stab of guilt I felt, and the sudden desire to prove Sin's doubts wrong rose up, gripping my heart in a tight fist. Opening the laptop up, a stream of blue holographic light painted a 3D figure of a dancing cube rising from the screen.

I smiled. "So you're not a laptop, are you?" I muttered to the strange machine, "Or at least not like the one's back at the facility..."

The hologram shifted into a cast of a hand, the pinpoints of light flattening to form a blank palm. "I saro dieis nai tomie. Topteste tin palomo sas stin provamen xekinsei saro tou."

I flinched back at the mechanized, female tone spoke in a foreign tongue: Oriehn. Of course, the holographic tablet would be delving into instructions in Oriehn.

I gripped the sides of the tablet tightly, "English, speak in English!" Frustration leaked into my voice, making it waver.

"I saro dieis nai tomie. Topteste tin palomo sas stin provamen xekinsei saro tou," the tablet repeated.

"No, no,  no," I begged, a flush creeping up my neck as despair reached around and held my heart close. "English, I need to communicate in English!"

I wracked my brain, trying to recall any Oriehn vocabulary that would be helpful, and Taliesin's words from his time at the facility came to mind. "Aiyacka! Speak in Aiyacka!" I held my breath, waiting.

"Interface scan ready. Place your palm against the projected figure to commence passcode scan," the voice chirped.

"Yes!" My heart beat faster as I placed my palm into the hologram, each particle of light whirring soundlessly about my hand to form an exact cast.

The pinpoints stilled, the blue lines flush to my skin. "Scan complete. You may remove your hand now. Access to the Oriehn interface will be monitored. Enjoy your browsing!" The hand gave a friendly wave to the side as the woman's voice blipped into silence and a home screen was displayed.

I tapped the floating keys, searching for the website Dr. Prose had put together as a cover for an encrypted chat room.

"East Coast Families Pre-Famine: Documenting the lives of the victims before starvation struck," I read the title out loud, swallowing hard as I remembered my own family during that time.

Our roads were too open to travel without being spotted by the then invading Oriehn, our fields occupied by a seemingly endless fleet that crushed our crop beneath their capsules. Starvation was a word too detached from what occured. Murder, manslaughter, massacre—those came a bit closer. My hands shook, my breath too hot to swallow, and I clutched at the cool surface of the tablet to steady myself.

I swiped up on the hologram, looking away from the endless smiling portraits of families in matching sweaters, and the candid photos of children playing. Accessing the encrypted chat room was simple, once I left the password in the comments section of the website.

Slowly, I inhaled gathering my thoughts before typing out a message to Dr. Prose.

Hello, Doctor Prose. It seems that I have indeed found a source of communication. I have learned much today, including their systems and life. They seem to have different metals and technology as well. I will update more on this later, but for now, good-bye.

I heard a knock on the door and quickly shut the laptop off. Expecting Drai, I opened the door but instead came face to face with Sin. "H-hello," I stuttered, and he grinned.

"How are you settling in?" Sin asked.

"Very well... The mattress has to be the softest thing I have ever felt." I groaned internally, just because I didn't know what to say didn't mean I should talk about mattresses.

Sin nodded, smiling. "It's made from the tissue produced by our malakos—a feathery beast, raised on our plantations for the webbing that they produce." He hesitated before he continued, "Has Padraigin finished your debriefing?"

"Yes," I smiled. "She was helpful, very informative. I'm glad we were able to speak."

Sin nodded again, eyes directed at the floor. "I came to inform you that all females must go to the oracle and get a prediction of their partner in a week. It was supposed to be today, but something has came up and they had to reschedule."

"Alright, thank you for letting me know."

"You are welcome." He opened his mouth to say something more, then hesitated. Finally, he replied, "Have a good day." He walked to the other side of the hall with long and strong strides, never glancing back.

I sighed, disappointed. "Sin?" I called. "What's wrong?" I asked and leaned against the door frame.

He froze in mid-step, turning his head over his shoulder to look at me, his eyes holding some unrecognizable emotion. He stalked forward, standing in front of me. "What makes you think something is wrong?" He furrowed his brow.

I laughed, pressing my thumb between his eyes and smoothing the lines.

He flinched backwards, and I dropped my hand away, my heart clenching. "I'm sorry," I breathed out, "I forgot about your customs. I meant no disrespect."

His hands flinched forward, as if he wanted to grab my own and hold it against him, but they fell back to his side, clenched tightly. "All is forgiven...I'm fine," He whispered hoarsely.

I shook my head. "Something is bothering you."

"We return to the lunar station in one solar cycle, actually—less than twenty-four hours. It has been a very long time since I have been amongst my people."

"What are you worried about?" I shrugged.

Reaching out, he brushed the pad of his finger against his collarbone, just above the mark, then gestured to mine. He sighed, looking to the side. I turned his chin with two fingers, directing his gaze to me. "When we return home," he paused for a moment before continuing, "there will be many things for you to do."

"And?" I pressed.

"I will not be there. To protect you," he clarified. "Our stations do not interact."

I shook my head, anger rising for unidentifiable reasons. Already a people I had never known, who claim me as one of their own, was dictating how my life would turn out. "I won't allow it. It will be my first demand. Is that what worried you?" I asked, relieved. "It's not as if you are a criminal. You're a hero. You brought back the last-born female."

"No... it's what they will do to the last-born female that worries me."