Alien Brute's Captive - Aya Morningstar Page 0,16

to talk to each other, he moves away. He never does it super obviously. He’ll tolerate me being closer for a minute or so, but then he’ll get up to “get more firewood,” or find some other kind of task that needs done. Anything to get further away from me.

I remind myself that it’s good he does that. At least one of us has the discipline for that.

“What’s the deal with this planet?” I ask him.

“You really want to know?” he asks me.

“I guess that means it’s bad.”

He nods.

“Well,” I say, “I can tell it’s not great. At least it’s not a swamp full of gross bugs.”

“We will have to sleep in shifts,” he says.

“Because of the bears?”

He pauses for a bit too long. “Yes. Because of the bears. I’m going to set up a perimeter, but just as a precaution, we’ll want one of us awake at all times.”

16

Krakon

It would be easier, I realize, if I was a woman and she was a man. I’d feel more shame. More natural revulsion. Men are meant to be stronger than women, to protect them. That’s true even for Cygnians. But when a Cygnian woman and a human man meet, the roles are reversed. The woman is stronger than the man, and those roles switch. The man becomes emasculated, and the woman takes on the role of protector and provider. Some women and some men might be naturally turned on or inclined to that, but others must think it’s unnatural, and still they go with it because of the unbearable scent, because of the alluring and alien form of the other species.

But this? A Cygnian man and a human woman? The gulf between our strength is so much wider. To her I am supernaturally strong. To me, she is the most delicate of flowers. That natural and manly urge to protect her is more intense than any I’ve ever felt. I try to tell myself it’s just because I need the money, but I know it’s a lie. Every time I provide for her, protect her, feed her, shelter her...I feel like a man in a way I’ve never really felt before.

It feels as if I am fulfilling my most natural and God-given role. Being with Aria was a pale imitation of what I should truly do. And being a pirate was simply a thing I did to forget Aria, a thing to hold me over until this most holy of tasks was sent to me: keep Catherine safe.

No. I’ll fight it. She is a new ship. That’s all she is. I will feel these things, as they are impossible not to feel. But I’ll remind myself at every step of the way that they are unnatural. They are just signals in my brain being triggered by scent and sight, and they are sinful. They are wrong. No matter how right or natural or holy it might feel, I will overpower the feelings with reason. I will resist her.

With the matter shaper and the amount of shaping material I have, I could--if I really wanted--make something high tech, but it would use up all the material. Something like a plasma rifle would use all the shaping material I had, and the rifle would only have a few shots. I considered making a tent, but I couldn’t make one big enough to keep her far enough away from me. Instead, I make a lot of raw and low-tech materials that will allow me to harness the nature around us. I make a carving knife, a few pieces of flint, some arrowheads, and a three hundred-foot line of very strong string. I also make a few dozen bells and two thermal suits. There’s shaping matter left over, and I save it for some unforeseen need that might come up later.

It takes all day to make everything. The shaper basically prints things one molecule at a time, but when it’s done, we both have thermal suits, and I don’t have to keep the fire as well fed as before.

I tie strings between two trees a few hundred feet away from our camp, and I connect two bells to the string. I do this all around us. The ridge behind us keeps us safe from behind, but anything that tries to sneak up on us will trip the strings and ring the bells. It’s not as good as a mine that just blows everything up, but it will at least give me a warning, and I’ll