Page 11 of Retribution
“I don’t wish to argue with you, General Zamek,” Layla said. “We’ve lost good people on both sides. It’s tragic and I truly hope peace between our worlds can be achieved. I hope the human rebels realize their cause is futile and abandon their fight, but I also hope the Kall occupation on Earth doesn’t remain so oppressive. If it does, and if the Kall continue their cruelty in the human refugee camps, you can expect the rebel cause to gain more supporters.”
Zamek removed the sword from her neck and put it away, sheathing it at his side. He gave her a sharp look. “You must have a lot of influence with Ambassador Merokk. He’s been trying to improve conditions in refugee camps. He’s also interceded in several court cases involving humans, requesting leniency for crimes that usually result in a life sentence.”
“I count the ambassador as a friend, but I wouldn’t say I have any sway over him. It’s his human wife, Fiona Lockhart, who has changed him. She suffered greatly during the war and in the aftermath of it while she and her mother lived in one of the Kall-run refugee camps. He simply sees what was done to her—someone he’s come to care about—and he wishes to improve conditions for all humans as a way of honoring her and making amends for her suffering.”
Zamek took a moment to ponder her words. While his warrior instincts told him to crush the humans and never show leniency, he could not deny that she had a good point—if his people continued to treat the humans badly, the rebel cause would likely gain traction. Of course, the Kall could hunt down the rebels and kill them, but at what cost? More deaths like Shessema’s?
“How long were you married to Michael Dennis?” he found himself asking. Perhaps they hadn’t been together for long. Perhaps she hadn’t known him very well at all.
“Just two years.” A shadow fell over her face.
Why was he so curious about her? He ought to turn around and leave her here alone, in the coldness of the brig, and only return when he’d come to his senses and was ready to visit violence upon her. But his next question escaped his mouth before he’d given it much thought.
“Was your union a happy one?” He shouldn’t have asked this question of her, but the compelling desire to know more about this little human was disrupting his ability to think clearly.
The look of sadness she wore deepened. “When we were first married, yes.” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “But then the war started, and Michael’s son died in battle, and he began to change.”
“Change how?”Whatwas he doing? Why wasn’t he leaving her cell right now?
“Well, he became very angry all the time, and he started drinking way too much alcohol and taking pills of some sort—I’m not sure what they were, but I doubt he obtained them legally—and he blamed me for the war and his son’s death.”
“How could he blame you for that?” Zamek asked in an incredulous tone. Her late husband sounded like a weak and foolish human male.
“Since I’m an expert in Kall culture, he thought I should’ve known a war was coming. But how was I to know a group of illegal human miners would cause the destruction of two Kall towns and set off a chain of events that resulted in the Kall conquering Earth? I tried to reason with him, but he would never listen.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead. He’s dead by his own doing and now I must pay for his sins.” Her soulful eyes lifted to his, and for a long moment, Zamek couldn’t breathe.
Unsettled by the compassion she was stirring within him, he turned and departed the cell, making sure to lock the door once he reached the corridor. He stared at her through the clear front of the cell. Small holes were spaced along the front wall, which would allow them to speak to one another.
“You’re right,” he said, hardening his tone. “It doesn’t matter. My wife is still gone, and someone must answer for her death. I will return soon, pathetic human, and when I do, you can expect your suffering to begin.”
Chapter 5
For the hundredth time,Zamek found himself studying the files he’d acquired about Layla Remington. He sat at his desk, holding an info tablet, while the stars streamed by in his peripheral vision. He looked up briefly to gaze at the stars through the large viewscreen that took up an entire wall in his quarters, but soon returned his attention to the tablet.
At his request, this detailed report had been provided by Kall security forces on Earth.
He swiped through the numerous pictures of Layla, images that showed her by herself, sometimes speaking with reporters, and at other times standing with President Carson. A few pictures of her with Michael were included, though he swiped through those quickly, not wishing to look upon the dishonorable human man’s face.
According to the report, she’d graduated with honors from Harvard at the age of twenty, acquiring degrees in Interspecies Relations and Alien Languages with a special concentration in Kall. From what he knew of humans, this was a bit young to have graduated from a university, particularly with two degrees. Apparently, she was quite intelligent for a human.
Immediately upon graduation, she’d traveled to the Kall homeworld, where she’d stayed for two years, exploring the planet and immersing herself in the culture of his people. It was no wonder she could speak the Sumlin dialect of Kall so well—she’d stayed in the main town of Sumlin for three full moon cycles.
He skipped to the family history section of the report. Her parents passed away when she was only two years old, from an overdose ofherininn, which was a highly addictive and dangerous substance that was illegal on most planets, including Kall. After that, she’d gone to live with her aunt. According to the report, her aunt perished during the war and Layla had no other living family members.
Unexpectedly, his chest tightened at the thought of Layla all alone without a male to protect her. In his culture, the females were always protected. Exigency plans were put into place which named guardians for females who might find themselves widowed or orphaned, no matter how old the female.
Humans were so different in that females were expected to forge their own lives, often with little help from their families. Marriages weren’t arranged on Earth either. Instead, humans were free to marry whomever they wished, a concept that struck Zamek as incredibly strange.
Both his marriages had been arranged. Second marriages between the Kall weren’t always arranged, but not long after his first wife had died, Zamek’s father had wished to match him with Shessema, the daughter of a former council member, and Zamek had agreed to the marriage despite having never met her before.
He looked over at the viewscreen again, his heart clenching as he recalled how excited Shessema had been during her first interstellar trip. She’d enjoyed standing at this very viewscreen and watching the stars streak by. She’d always awoken before him in the mornings and he’d often found her standing here during the early hours of the day, a steaming mug ofcoufftain her hands.
He would never see her standing here again. He would never see her smile or hold her in his arms. He would never watch her place her hand gently upon her stomach as she wondered aloud if this would be the moon cycle when they would finally conceive their first child together.
Fluxx. He shoved the tablet aside and rose to his feet. He began to pace his quarters, as if trying to outrun his grief.
Females on his planet usually outlived their husbands by a year or two. It was unusual for a Kall male to find himself widowed, yet he’d already lost two wives. One to a rare illness, and another to a brutal act of violence. Each marriage had lasted less than a year.
Though he wasn’t in the right mindset to even contemplate a third marriage, he knew finding another wife would prove difficult. His people might be technologically advanced, but they still clung to old traditions and superstitions. A twice-widowed male would be viewed as cursed by the ancient gods. No Kall male in his right mind would allow his daughter to marry Zamek, even if he was a highly decorated warrior who’d risen to the rank of general.
