Jericho

  Psychosomatic Output = 150 Bio-units

  Synaptic Rank = Unavailable

  Kyrin’s blurry shape sat on the edge of Jericho’s bed and his swollen eyes welled up with tears.

  “I’m going with him, Kyrin. He thinks I’m special,” Jericho whispered.

  His tongue felt thick and heavy. The words tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth. He could see Kyrin’s bony shoulders trembling from her own sobs.

  “It’s not real Jericho. Why would a Hokkonian want you? It’s stupid, and you’re going to get yourself killed because of it.”

  He wanted to get away from her, but his body wasn’t responding. The bone-stitch had already paralyzed his system. He could feel its viscosity in his veins, like his blood was churning to a thickening paste.

  Back on the drugs—I can’t keep living like this.

  “I’m going to die here if I don’t, Key. He can take me away,” Jericho mumbled.

  Don’t you want her to go with you?

  She squeezed his hand. If his arms were functioning properly, he would have ripped it from her grasp.

  “Jericho, use your head. The Hokkonians hate us—they hate everyone. Do you really believe that one would show up here and ask you to become a pilot? You’re just a pit fighter.”

  Just?

  Her words felt like a hammer blow to his heart, “I’m more than that.”

  His eyesight was poor, but he recognized the look of condescending pity on her face. Did Kyrin ever believe that he would amount to more than this life? Did she want to spend the rest of hers in a pit on Kleth’altho? A life spent flooding her veins with torpe?

  You’re not any better. Up until a day ago, your life’s goal was to fight in front of a full stadium.

  “I’m tired of this life, Key,” he whispered.

  She let go of his hand, and her features hardened. “You think it will be better for you out there? You’re a killer, Jericho. A pit fighter with a collar on his neck. I mean, really! You should be grateful that I’m even standing here. Without me, you would be alone. At least you have someone that loves you.”

  He wanted to strike her.

  “If you don’t want to be here, then leave. I’m sure you’re jonesing for another dose anyway,” he hissed.

  She didn’t deny the comment and her eyes flashed with hurt, but he didn’t care. She got up from the bed and wiped away the tears on her cheek with an angry swipe.

  “I can’t–I can’t help it anymore. If I stop, it gets bad,” she whispered.

  It’s not your fault, Key. I should have been there to help you, and I shouldn’t have let it get this bad.

  Jericho sighed, “I didn’t mean it.”

  Kyrin shook her head, “Yes, you did. But I promise, if you stay, I’ll get clean. I won't use anymore. I swear.”

  The desperation in her words only added to the guilt in Jericho’s heart. This wasn’t the first time she had sworn off the torpe, and it wouldn’t be the last. Though, it wasn’t his guilt that tightened his chest, but the crushing realization that she had believed him all along. She just didn’t want him to leave because of the torpe. Without him, how could she get her fix?

  That new perspective was enough to solidify his decision. He had to leave; he was practically enabling her own suicide.

  Fresh tears leaked down his cheek, “I’m sorry, Key.”

  She collapsed back on his bed. Her wracking sobs shook her fragile frame, and he fought through paralysis to lay a hand on her back. Even through her clothes, he could feel the bumps of her protruding ribs.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

  He continued to whisper apologies in her ear until she fell asleep beside him. He wasn’t just sorry for her addiction. He was sorry for the hardships that she would have to face when he left.

  I’m sorry, Key.

  ***

  “Get up,” a voice commanded.

  The noise ripped Jericho from his sleep like a crack of thunder.

  Arthros was standing over the top of his bed. He was even more intimidating in the full light. His face was very human, except for his nose. He only had three thin nostrils where his nose should have been. He had a large mouth but thin lips. He was bald, but the spines flattened against his scalp were dense and gave the illusion of short hair.

  The floating orb was still hovering on his shoulder and the look on his face chilled Jericho to his core. The alien was angry, annoyed, and impatient.

  “I–what’s going on? I thought you said I had a few days,” Jericho stammered.

  The commotion stirred Kyrin, and her groggy expression vanished when she saw the massive Hokkonian standing in the room. She screamed, and Jericho tried to clamp a hand over her mouth, but his movements were sluggish. The drugs had faded, but not enough.

  Arthros didn’t move; his thick arms crossed over his chest, and his white eyes narrowed.

  “Change of plans,” he said simply.

  “He’s real,” Kyrin squeaked. “I can’t believe he’s real.”

  Arthros’ eyes flicked to Kyrin for a fraction of a second.

  “I can’t move. My leg is shattered, and they’ve been pumping bone-stitch into my veins since last night,” Jericho said.

  Arthros’ lips twitched, “Did you fight again after I left?”

  Jericho snorted, “I took a beating. Does that count?”

  Disappointment flashed on the alien’s face, “I had assumed you could take care of yourself.”

  “Not with a broken leg.”

  Arthros tapped the tips of his teeth together as he studied him. He let out an irritated hiss and fished out a small capsule. He held it up in front of Jericho’s face.

  Apprehension made his stomach clench, “I’m not touching that thing.”

  “You’re not going to touch it; you’re going to eat it,” Arthros growled.

  Kyrin jumped to her feet, stepping between him and Arthros. “Don’t do it Icho! You can’t trust him!”

  Arthros gave her an unimpressed stare and then narrowed his eyes like he was seeing her for the first time. The orb’s light pulsed as he studied her.

  “Who are you?” he asked at last.

  “Kyrin,” she squeaked as she took a tentative step back, bumping into the edge of the bed.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “She’s my girlfriend,” Jericho hurried to explain.

  The alien’s interest evaporated, and he pushed her to the side like a curtain.

  Arthros held the capsule in front of Jericho’s mouth, “Bite down on this; it will make you forget.”

  “Forget what?”

  “The pain. Long enough to get you on my ship. I’ll fix you up there,” Arthros said simply.

  The reality of the situation was rapidly losing its charm. The fact that a Hokkonian was standing before him suddenly felt terrifying and wrong. Very, very wrong.

  “I haven’t made my decision yet,” Jericho stammered.

  You idiot, yes you have!

  Arthros paused and then pulled his hand back. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve made it for you.”

  Jericho fought for the right words, “I need more time. I want to make the right decision, but I must think.”

  The Hokkonian snorted, “If it’s truly that hard of a decision to make, then maybe I’ve made a mistake.”

  “No! I just–” Jericho started.

  You’re going to blow it. What are you doing? Tell him you’ll go with him!

  “You would rather take your chances here? I don’t think you understand the opportunity I am offering you. Now is the time to use that tiny human brain of yours,” Arthros growled.

  “Don’t talk to him that way! He’s smarter than you’ll ever know!” Kyrin shouted.

  Arthros turned, and to Kyrin’s credit, she didn’t wither under the pressure of his gaze.

  “You are brave, little human, but you are ignorant.” He brought his face close to hers, “I’ve killed for less.”

  “I’ll take the pill,” he cleared his throat. “I’ll come with you; just give me the pill, and don’t hurt her.”

  Arthros looked away from Kyrin. She wilted like a dying flower the moment his attention was gone.

  “Smart,” he dropped the pill into Jericho’s open mouth.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jericho bit down hard, and the capsule split open. Liquid coated the inside of his mouth and slid down his throat. It tasted sweet, like sugar water. Within seconds, the pain evaporated, along with the numbing effects of the bone-stitch. His skin started to itch, and he had a carnal desire to move. He had to run, sprint, and fight. He felt more alive than he had in months.

  “Wow, this is incredible,” he murmured.

  Arthros straightened and immediately started for the door, “Come, my ship is only a few clicks from here. There’s a shuttle waiting for us on the surface.”

  He disappeared from the door, and Jericho hurried after him. Something caught his arm, and he jerked back. Kyrin was staring at him. Her eyes were filled with fear—a welcome replacement to the usual trope-induced glaze.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  He shook his head, “It’s okay. Why would you? This whole thing is insane.”

  He tugged at her to follow, and soon they were both running after the Hokkonian. They followed the alien up the sloping path that led to the surface. Jericho bound up the steep slope with ease. The bone-stitch had mended his femur enough that it could support his weight.

  “Stop, Jericho. I can’t breathe,” she gasped.

  Kyrin lagged, and Jericho stopped to pick her up. He didn’t care if they were only halfway. Even climbing the steps wasn’t enough to rid him of the chemical-induced itch. She was almost weightless in his arms.

  “Hold on tight,” he grunted.

  He bound up the path, relishing the burn in his legs as they worked to propel him forward. He was glad for the distraction; it helped ease the stress on his mind and the pangs of guilt that shot daggers into his heart.

  When they reached the top, Arthros was waiting by a shuttle. The transport was a simple hovercraft, elongated to fit multiple people. Its deck was pale yellow, and it had no roof. Inside the shuttle was furnished with soft, cushioned seats.

  “He’s not going to let me go with you, Jer,” Kyrin whispered as she slid from his back.

  Jericho ignored her and gripped his chest when his heart palpated. His guilt was starting to physically manifest itself. He knew Arthros wouldn’t let Kyrin come with him, and yet he had led her aboard the shuttle all the same.

  You need to say goodbye. Don’t make this worse.

  Arthros didn’t even spare her a glance as they stepped onto the deck.

  Soon, the shuttle was speeding across the barren terrain. Arthros sat near the front, not bothering to look at them.

  They arrived at the landing bay ten minutes later, and when Jericho saw the ship, his eyes widened in wonder.

  An M-42 Novawolf Cruiser!

  “I’ve never seen one this close.”

  The massive crescent-shaped wings seemed as sharp as axe blades. The cockpit was sleek and extended like a falcon’s beak. The matte-black hull absorbed light, giving the entire ship a shapeless appearance. Jericho had to squint to see the exact edges.

  “This is my ship: The Reckless. You’ll take your test on board,” Arthros said as he stepped off the shuttle.

  “My test?” Jericho shared a furrow-browed glance with Kyrin.

  Arthros walked up to the ship, and it responded to his presence. The cargo-hold doors opened, and a landing ramp extended to the dirt. He took a few steps up and turned to look at him.

  “We need to make sure you’re compatible. As soon as you pass the test, I will take you to Hokku for your training,” Arthros explained.

  Jericho frowned, “I thought you already knew I was compatible?”

  The alien paused, “I never said that.”

  Jericho went to follow, but Kyrin’s fingernails dug into his forearm. He had almost forgotten that she was there. If only she wasn’t.

  Now what are you going to do?

  “Kyrin has to come with us,” Jericho said, inflecting as much confidence as he could into his tone.

  Arthros froze just before he reached the cargo hold’s entrance, “That won’t be happening.”

  Jericho tried to ignore the edge in the alien’s voice. He had to be confident. That was his only chance of pulling this off.

  Do you really want her to come? She’ll get in the way.

  He looked at her, and in that moment, he saw through the torpe addiction’s veil of ugliness. She was beautiful, and she belonged to him.

  His heart swelled with compassion, and he squared his stance, “If you want me to come on board, then Kyrin comes with us.”

  This is the right choice. She’ll get better this way. We can be together.

  The romantic gravity was lost on Arthros, “You don’t get a choice.”

  Jericho took a hesitant and defensive step backward, instinctively guiding Kyrin to stand behind him. “I’m not leaving without her.”

  The orb on the alien’s shoulder glowed, and his white eyes glazed over. When he refocused his attention, his face was full of darkness. It was no longer Arthros who stood on the ramp but a predator unwilling to relinquish its prey.

  The Hokkonian took a heavy step, and the ramp shook. “I don’t think you understand. I can drag you on here, but the test will go better if you take it by your own volition.”

  I can’t leave her. She needs me.

  “Trust me, I want to come with you, but I can’t do that without Kyrin. She needs me,” Jericho swallowed and tried to bolster his failing courage with a defiant lift of his chin.

  Arthros took a deep breath and let it out in one long, drawn-out exhale. He took a few more steps down the ramp and rested his hand on the Skarthkas that was sheathed at his hip.

  “I knew you were stubborn. It’s one of the reasons I’ve even considered humans. But now is not the time to be obtuse. I will offer you a single choice, but the decision you make will end with the same result. You, on my ship,” Arthros spoke evenly despite the predatory gleam in his eyes.

  Jericho stood up taller and rounded his shoulders. The tension in the air was a familiar one—the same he had felt his entire life in the pits. A fight was coming.

  He should have felt scared, but the stimulant overpowered his judgement. In a strange way, he was excited. This would be a good test of his skills. He had bested the Sk’reah Queen. How much stronger could the Hokkonian be?

  “We have to run, Jericho,” Kyrin whispered.

  He crouched in a fighting stance, “I’m not afraid to fight you.”

  “You should be,” Arthros said before stepping down onto the soft dirt.

  With blinding speed, the alien brought his fist down, aiming for the top of his head. Jericho was ready. He leapt back just in time as Arthros’ fist whiffed past his face. He caught the brief look of surprise on the Hokkonian’s face as the momentum of his punch took him off balance.

  Just as he had with the Sk’reah Queen, Jericho rushed in to take advantage of the Hokkonian’s misstep.

  He leapt at Arthros. He had no weapons, but if he could just get his arms around the alien’s neck…

  Arthros recovered with supernatural speed and pivoted on his planted left foot to correct his balance. Jericho was still airborne when an iron grip clamped around his neck. In a single breath, the fight was over.

  Jericho clawed at the alien’s hands, but it was futile. The synthetic energy drained from him, along with the adrenaline. His body went limp, and he hung from Arthros’ grip like a fish stuck on the end of a pike.

  The alien brought his face close to Jericho’s; his hot breath smelled like smoke. Jericho searched for any hint of mercy in the alien’s face, but found nothing except cold indifference. Yet, in his white alien eyes, he saw a flicker of respect.

  “You lose,” the alien hissed.

  Jericho’s world was turned upside down as Arthros lifted him up and then spiked him headfirst into the ground. He hit the dirt hard, and the collision nearly knocked him unconscious. His vision went dark, but the stimulant Arthros had given him kept his mind active.

  Kyrin, run! Run as fast as you can. He only wants me.

  He felt his body lift off the ground as powerful arms hooked under his back and legs.

  “No! You can’t! Take me with you, please,” Kyrin’s voice pierced the emptiness in his head like an arrow.

  Kyrin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

  “It is for your own good, little human,” he heard Arthros say. “You would be killed the minute you stepped foot on my planet.”

  “I don’t care,” she screamed. “I’ll pledge myself, please! Take me with you or give him back.”

  “Neither is an option,” Arthros hissed.

  Jericho wished he could claw his way free, but it took every ounce of his willpower to cling to consciousness. Even now, the voices seemed to be slipping away as the pressure behind his eyes grew.

  “You can’t do this!” Kyrin begged. “He’ll remember what you’ve done. He’ll come back to me. I need him.”

  The last thing Jericho heard before he fully slipped into the void was Arthros’ retort, “He won’t remember anything.”

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