“Oh my god, Ravok. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Leelee. You didn’t do this to me,” he says, his voice a low rumble that’s remarkably comforting.
“I know. But… my god! Humans suck. This is why you can’t stay on this planet. It is way too dangerous. What those assholes did to you… it’s horrific and cruel. You should have never been hurt like that.”
“My people – the Cryzorians – are just as dangerous as yours. More so, actually. I don’t want you to think less of me, but my people believe that they are superior to all other species in the universe. The Cryzorians’ ultimate plan is to conquer all of known space. We are taught from the moment we are born that Cryzorians are destined to rule over everything.”
“Might makes right,” I murmur. When Ravok gives me a questioning look, I explain, “Many humans throughout history have believed that power and strength meant they got to rule over the less powerful, even if they were cruel and amoral.” I take a deep breath, my fingers brushing along the grain of the table. “This belief,” I continue, “has led humanity down some very dark paths. Wars instigated for power, lives extinguished for no reason, actions so cruel they defy explanation, whole civilizations crushed under the tyranny of conquest. It’s happened over and over again on this planet. From Genghis Khan to Hitler to colonialism, so many have suffered. You can’t trust most humans, Ravok. Don’t get me wrong – there are so many good people out there. But there’s no real way for you – or me – to tell who you can trust.”
Ravok’s scars are the living proof. My heart aches at the thought of what he must have endured, a lump forming in my throat.
“Do you want to tell me what happened? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Ravok settles one of his hands over mine. The touch is enough to pull me out of my swirling, guilt-filled thoughts. His eyes, glinting with understanding and kindness, shake me to my core, meet mine. “Leelee, when I first crashed on your world, your humans did not understand my quick healing. Most of these scars were the result of the scientists seeking to decipher how I can heal so quickly. They figured out that that I had nanites in my bloodstream and wanted to find a way to recreate them for humans.”
“Nanites?”
“Nanites are microscopic cybernetic robots coursing through my veins that heal injuries. They also have other functions like letting me interface with my ship. The humans that captured me left me with these scars.” He runs his fingers over one of the neat scars on his forearm, a testament to the violence he has endured, “They wanted to figure out how I healed so fast. I commanded my nanites to deactivate when they leave my body, so those scientists didn’t get any valuable information from my blood or any of their experiments.”
I blink, my mind rebelling at the image of what Ravok has endured. I stare at his chest, tracing my eyes over all the thin, neat scars. Those asshole scientists must’ve cut into him dozens and dozens of times. It makes me feel murderous. His body was cut open and then stitched back together. I somehow doubt they cared much for his comfort or pain levels. The scars are evidence of his strength and resilience. If it had been me, I would’ve never trusted another human ever again. The fact that Ravok is sitting here sharing a meal with me shows what kind of person he is – someone extraordinary. He seems unbothered by the scars covering his skin. They certainly don’t detract from his devastatingly good looks but seeing them are stark reminders of the gruesome experiments he endured, conducted by the very beings I shared genetics with.
The knot in my stomach doubles in size. I knew Ravok’s arrival had been rough but hearing him talk about being experimented upon makes me want to throw up my chili. “Ravok, I… I’m sorry,” I whisper, his confession hitting me harder than I expected, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Humans… we are not all like that, I swear.”
He nods, looking at his calloused hands. He seems lost in thought, whether remembering what was done to him or thinking about my words, I don’t know. “Ravok,” I say, catching his attention, “We need to fix your ship, and get you back into space. You’re not safe here.” His eyes meet mine and, for a moment, all is silent as our entwined fates hang in the balance. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting captured again. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. Humans are the worst,” I stutter, my gaze dropping. His large hand lifts my chin, coaxing me to meet his eyes once again.
His eyes glow brighter in the dimly lit room, softening as he looks at me. “Not all humans.” A heavy silence stretches between us, disturbed only by the sounds of the forest outside our windows.
A new idea solidifies within me – one I had rejected earlier. I can’t even believe I’m contemplating it; I know Ravok has to leave this planet, but maybe he doesn’t need to do it alone. “When you leave, maybe I could come with you? I mean, even just for a little bit before you bring me back?”
“Leelee,” Ravok’s gravelly voice rings out, his white eyes locked on my face. I’m surprised by the sorrow I see in them, “I wish I could take you with me, but it’s impossible. Most of my time is spent locked in cryo-freeze between destinations. The cryo-chamber can only hold one individual. Plus… my mission…” Ravok stops and swallows thickly. “Leelee, I’m a Cryzorian Outrider – my mission… it’s to find planets and asteroids filled with resources. When I do, I am supposed to drop a beacon for my people to capitalize on those resources.” He looks away, his gaze dropping to our joined hands as misery and shame fight for dominance on his face.
He’s opened himself up, revealing a guilt that weighs heavily on his alien heart. I turn my hand in his grip, pressing our palms together and lacing our fingers together. I squeeze his hand to let him know that I’m still here with him.
“Ravok,” I breathe, gripping his hand tighter. “How many… how many worlds have you found for your people?” My voice trembles slightly, the question out in the open, as raw and soaring as my beating heart.
His hand clenches in my grip, his luminous eyes wavering before he answers, “I have found two worlds that were resource-rich for my people. Neither planet was inhabited by sentient beings but once I discovered them and notified my people… I don’t know what became of them. I never thought to check.” His deep voice is barely above a whisper, and yet it echoes in the small cabin.
He’s found two planets. No anger, no accusations, just quiet understanding. He is as much a victim of his upbringing as a perpetrator of his people’s missions.
“You feel bad about it?” I ask, my voice soft, but laced with genuine curiosity. I want – need – to understand him, to bridge the gap between our worlds.
“I do now,” Ravok finally admits, his voice strained. A soft sigh escapes him as he meets my gaze, the faint traces of guilt mirrored in his translucent eyes.
“Ravok,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper in the quiet of the cabin. “You’ve nothing to feel bad about. You are a victim of your circumstances – with what you were raised to believe and also the crash landing and getting captured. None of it is your fault.”
His eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t respond. I can see a storm brewing there, a confluence of emotion for which I’ve no proper name. Drawing in a deep breath, I press on with my questions.
“What will you do once you leave this planet? Your people… will they come here?” I can’t help the slight tremor in my voice as I say the words. His presence in my life has been an unexpected thrill, yes, but the thought of more aliens descending upon Earth is enough to make my stomach curdle.
A pause hangs in the air before he finally breaks it. “I will mark the entire solar system as resource-poor and uninhabitable.”
His gaze is steady on me, solid and reassuring, and I can’t help but feel my heart flutter at the promise that lies within his words. “I give you my vow – no one from my world will ever find your planet. Not if I can help it,” he continues, his tone unwavering. “I owe you, Lily.”
The words resonate in the cabin’s stillness, filling every corner and etching themselves into the air.
“But… will I ever see you again once you leave?”
CHAPTER 36
Ravok
Her words strike my heart like a well-thrown spear, piercing me until I can barely breathe. I can see the dual emotions of hope and sadness in her hazel eyes. It is painful, almost unbearable, to witness her hopefulness knowing that I am about to extinguish it.
Her words hang heavy between us.
Sorrow and regret twist in my gut, a painful presence that grows larger until I can no longer ignore it. With a deep, strained breath, I break the silence. “Leelee,” I respond, meeting her vulnerable gaze. “No, we won’t see each other again. It would be too dangerous – for both of us.”
The impact of my words carves its way across Leelee’s face, washing away the hopeful façade and leaving a trail of despair in its wake. I feel her heartbreak as acutely as if it were mine.
Tears form in her eyes, making my heart hurt even more. “I’ll miss you so much, Ravok,” she whispers, her voice trembling softly. I feel wretched as a tear spills down Leelee’s cheek.
My Cryzorian heart, supposedly untouched by such human-like emotions, echoes her sentiment. “I will miss you too, Leelee,” I admit, a vulnerable confession that strips me of my usual guarded exterior and tightens the already heavy air around us.
Yet rather than crumbling under the weight of our impending separation, Leelee surprises me. A determination flickers across her tear-streaked face, as fierce as a comet blazing past. “Then,” she says, facing me with a newfound resolution, “If this is all the time we have… we need to make the most of it.”
Before I can ask what she means, Leelee stands up from her chair. While still gripping my hand, she takes a step closer, pressing close. I push my chair back, letting her get as close as she wants, not sure what she is trying to do.
