Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
With my pet securely in my arms, I stride down the gangway as a heroic rescuer. Reception to my appearance is mixed, but I do not pay their responses any mind at first. I am getting the lay of the land.
The human village is made up of a small cluster of whitewashed houses largely arranged around an intersection of two main streets. There are a few smaller paths bordering what appear to be community gardens and fields. Further out, other small houses border these little farm areas. The entire area is encircled by a makeshift wall of that looks as though it has been made from reclaimed materials that must have come from somewhere beyond the wild scrub that surrounds the relatively well-manicured township. Effort has been made to cultivate flowers in all the gardens. White picket fences stand out in front of some of the low-slung wooden houses. Here and there, a fluffy little dog runs about, shrieking its song to the wind.
There is a pleasant scent here, a smell of open spaces and floral bouquets. A few domesticated beasts of milk, fiber, and meat occupy other paddocks. Some of them are adorned with collars and bells that chime when they walk. The village is irrigated by a spring that flows in what look to be relatively shallow culverts. Water races from them, and each property draws water for plants and beasts alike. This is a place that knows how to be what it is. There is a sense of peace and permanence here.
The raw border belies the calm scene, however. I see embankments and plated fortifications. I see a hastily put together attempt to create a wall, obviously designed to keep some currently unseen threat out. Someone has attempted to make it pretty here and there by hanging dried flowers from some of the defensive positions, but it is clear that the peace here comes at a cost.
I can see from here to the rolling red horizon, out to where irregular shapes and shadows suggest manmade edifices. A city, perhaps. Most humans lived in cities at the turn of their final peaceful century. Now those cities have fallen, the inhabitants lawless to a man. Taking pets from these places is always a risk. But claiming a human to own from a place like this?
I look down at the curvy blonde human in my arms. She’s perfect. She comes from a place of pure innocence, and I am absolutely certain she will never do anything wrong.
The human village reminds me of the very old villages on my world, the ones that were crushed and paved over to create the city of Euphoria.
I come from an advanced and highly cultured world. A place that considers itself to be as separate from human settlements like these as it is possible to be, but we still require shelter in the form of buildings, and we still consume the flesh of other living things, and even our telepathic communication is subject to misunderstandings. We believe ourselves to be supreme among sentient beings, and we see humans as little more than amusements. Pets, at the very best, vermin potentially, at worst.
My family, Voros, has done much to popularize humans among our kind. Unfortunately, that seems to have been done to their detriment.
The Wrathelder family sees potential beyond pets. Their family wants to trade humans en masse, breed them, use them to fight, to serve, to become slaves to our species. They have no true appreciation for the delicate and rare beauty of humans. They want to trawl the planet for as many specimens as possible, discarding the elderly and the sick like fishermen throwing back their catch. The significant difference being that fish can survive the fall to the ocean. No human can survive a fall from the outer atmosphere. The evidence of that is surrounded by weeping people in the mid-distance. It appears their discarded human landed outside the boundaries of the village but is being carried back in on a plank with a sheet over it.
Some of the humans are quite distraught by this. Others are distracted both by our having landed in a large alien vessel and my own strange presence. There is a great deal of milling about, conversation, crisis, and one woman carrying a large plate of baked goods, while another brings around a basket of pies. Humans have a natural talent for catering crises.
The lower part of the gangway is surrounded swiftly by the youngest and strongest men. They are armed with ancient projectile weapons. Crude, but efficient. I have always wanted to try such a weapon. I am sure I will have the opportunity soon enough, one way or another.
They allow most of the villagers to run past them, parting like sentient tissue allowing good cells to pass through a barrier before closing before me.