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Chief Daggir interrupts him with a wave of his hand, as he settles back down onto his seat. “You did the right thing. That is what I have tried to teach you. You are a good son.” I glance over at Draggar and I can sense the pleased glow from his father’s words, and my heart warms for him.
I’ve tried to be as quiet as possible and to not interrupt – because what do I know about alien disputes? - but curiosity gets the better of me.
“So, what do you think has happened to the animals and plants on the Xeniiv’s territory?” I ask.
“Ah, I was just coming to that. Thank you, my amoris, for reminding me.” Draggar’s eyes send me a warm look of appreciation and he raises my hand to his lips for a quick kiss against my knuckles. “After our encounter with the tiniio, I left you in a safe cave while you slept, and I went to see if anything looked out of place in the Tussoll village. I noticed their lands are teeming with animals, almost as if Xeniiv’s game have been herded to the Tussoll’s territory. The Tussoll were chanting victory songs and they seemed to be preparing for a feast.”
His voice turns harsh and his eyes narrow. “I witnessed a Tussoll male returning from a successful hunt and he was accompanied by two Pugj.” Heavy silence meets Draggar’s last words, and a tremor of apprehension runs through me.
“I don’t get it. . . What is a Pugj?” I ask.
Chief D’raggir explains, “The Pugj are hairy beings who live on top of the highest mountains of our planet. We do not know where they came from, but they appeared one day when my father was chief of this tribe. He and the other tribal chiefs joined together to welcome the Pugj. There is more than enough land here for all of us to live in harmony, or at least that was the thought back then. But the Pugj would not have it, and they made it clear they wanted the planet to themselves.”
Draggar takes over the story. “The tribes would gather for games and celebrations throughout the year, but the Pugj began attacking each time we did so. We lost many males during the attacks either by dying in battle or from abduction by the Pugj. Warriors who escaped told of other captives being slowly tortured to death with the Pugj gathered around cheering on their deaths as if they consider it a sport." His voice deepens with emotion. "They returned with tales of the Pugj eating their victims once they were finished torturing them. It is said they enjoy the fear that sweetens their captives' flesh." Fuck. My face blanches at his words.
“Finally, the tribal chiefs held a meeting and decided to eliminate the large gatherings completely as it was no longer safe. But the attacks have continued."
“So, basically, you’re saying the Pugj are your enemies.” At their nods, I ask, “So, why was your enemy invited to a feast hosted by a Laediriian tribe?”
Silence meets my question until Draggar breaks it. “Unless they have joined forces with the Pugj.” I can tell he’s hesitant to even suggest that any Laediriian would ally themselves with their enemy as it is so unthinkable to him. “But why would they do that?” He cocks his head to the side.
That’s the million-dollar question, I guess, and it doesn’t look like there’s a ready answer.
“When you return from your journey to the ship, I will call a meeting of the tribal council and we will discuss the information you have obtained. We have many changes to make to meet this new threat.” Chief Daggir sits back in his seat.
Draggar and his father discuss a few other matters, but I only listen with half an ear, too caught up in thoughts about my friends.
My attention snaps back to the conversation as the chief stands and says, with a smile on his face, “No matter what happens with the other tribes and the Pugj, we have received good news tonight. The future of our tribe – of the Laediriian species as a whole – looks brighter. There are once more females on our planet and the amoris bond has returned to us. That is splendid news, indeed. Our future does not have to include extinction.”
Shit. I wonder if I should tell them, now. It’s obvious the amoris bond returning means a lot to them, and that they’re referring to the possibility of children. Do I tell them now that I have endo – that the Zyfeliks considered me damaged goods because I can’t have children?
But I don’t have a chance. Chief Daggir bids us good night and before I know it, Draggar guides me away from the dining area with a warm hand against the small of my back.
I gaze at the small village around us as we walk through it. I was too nervous earlier to notice much of anything, but now, I look around in amazement. Draggar notes my interest and offers to give me a tour.
We spend the next hour touring the village, and my amazement only grows. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, not even in a movie.
The village is made up of an odd mix of rustic dwellings that look like they belong in the Middle Ages along with really advanced technology that is light years beyond Earth’s capabilities. I even spot an alien carrying around a device that I swear looks like an iPad.
Draggar mentions that their ancestors brought a lot of technology with them when they settled on the new planet and thanks to tribe members like his cousin, they’ve managed to keep it in working order. I’m honestly impressed at their ingenuity, and it quickly occurs to me that they might have managed to keep their ancestors’ spaceship operational.
“What about the ship your ancestors traveled here on? Does it still work?”
Draggar glances at me, the expression on his face unreadable. “No. It ran out of the fuel needed for flight and there is none available on the planet.”
Well, that sucks. Not that I or any of my friends would have even known how to fly a spaceship to take us back to Earth.
Along with the space age technology, there are also more rustic elements in the settlement that would be at home in historical reenactment. There’s even a blacksmith, a gargantuan man with arms as big around as small tree trunks. He barely says a word while we’re there, but when he does, his voice is so soft and gentle that he reminds me of a giant teal teddy bear.
Next, we visit a small building that serves as a clinic and it’s staffed by the tribe’s medic, the afore-mentioned Warrix. He’s not quite as bulky as some of the other men in the tribe, but his intelligent gaze lets me know he’s assessing me as Draggar translates for me.
While we’re there Draggar insists that the medic should run a scan on me to make sure I don’t have any lingering injuries from the crash. Warrix gets out a small hand-held scanner that emits a blue light that looks kind of like the scanner on the ship. He slowly runs the device over me from head to toe until it emits a shrill beep and displays information on a nearby screen that looks like a blur of squiggles.
Even though he doesn’t have a translator, yet, and can’t understand me, Warrix still looks at me when he says, “Your vitamin and mineral levels appear to be low, but I do not know if the levels are abnormal for your species. But I suspect they are. Unfortunately, our database does not have any information about humans. I noticed your flat teeth, which I assume indicates your species normally ingests a wide variety of plant material. I would suggest a few days of full meals with plenty of meat and plants should resolve any low vitamin and mineral levels. I also noticed the healing injury to your ankle and the blisters on your feet.” He gestures towards my feet and asks, “May I?”
Warrix quickly removes the wrappings around my feet and examines them before declaring that my sprained ankle and the blisters are healing nicely and that I should be completely better in another day or two with the proper treatment. The medic applies a thick layer of green paste that smells similar to the goo but with a much stronger scent. He says the paste will not only help my injuries heal faster, but it will also provide protection by sealing the wounds and making my ankle more stable.
I marvel as the green paste quickly dries into a thin plaster on my feet, leaving behind a cool, tingling sensation.
