Infall Ch. 01

Leaning forward, she smelled the horse, its earthy warmth, so many smells around her but the horse's distinctive, and leaned down to look under it. A male. She looked up at the man riding it. "The horse is beautiful," she said to him in Alcon, her language, smiling at him. Her smile faded. He was staring at her. Her eyes went to the other men on horses, also staring at her.

"Som ena itha?" the man said, his fingers gesturing at his eyes. "Octal vesh inth isjusi."

She shook her head, shrugging. The man on the horse was looking at her breasts, at her body. They all were. She sighed and pointed at herself. "Indya," she said slowly.

The man on the horse had dark brown hair on his head pulled back into a ball at the back of his neck, his face with the hair, although it wasn't bushy. More neat. She studied him. He was handsome, his features more bold than she was used to, definitely not pretty, big and strong-looking. Huge arms and chest. They were all big, but he was even bigger. His hand was on some kind of long stick extending well above his head, resting in some kind of holder. A weapon.

"Indya," he said.

She nodded politely, smiling, and gestured to him.

"Kythe," he answered, a small smile coming to his mouth. He released his hand from the long stick and got down off the horse and walked to her. His clothing was crude but well made and a curved stick hung from his hip, a long curved thin tube with a bright metal handle sticking out.

"Ky-teh," she said, although he almost swallowed the last syllable. She was used to being as tall as men, but he was huge. The thing at his waist was probably another weapon.

His eyes roamed her face and then dropped to her breasts again and downward, all of them acting like they'd never seen a woman's body before. He walked around her, still looking at her. When he came in front of her, he reached for her like the dark-haired man and she directed his hand away. He stopped and shook his head, and then reached out more slowly. She let him, the barbarian taking her chin and turning it, angling her face up, looking at her eyes, his brows drawing together. His eyes were the deepest dark reddish brown color, like the bark of the trees. She hadn't seen that before. It was pretty, a warm color.

She knew he hadn't seen her eye color before. The people of Atlantis had made small alterations in the enzymes. Her irises were a luminous and deep indigo, more intense than natural eyes, and had no visible pattern surrounding the pupil, a deep well of color, what her parents had chosen for both her and her brother.

The wind came and she shivered. He released her and pulled off the long outer garment he was wearing and put it around her. Not such a primitive. He was kind. She relaxed and smiled. "Thank you, Kythe," she said. The reality of her situation was coming to her. She was alone. Her family was gone and she was trapped here. All the men were still staring at her.

"Apel nuin, alea," Kythe said, his hand coming out, gesturing for her to stay where she was.

He turned and walked to her capsule, squatting next to it, reaching to touch the gel, smelling his fingers. It wouldn't have a scent. Running his hand over the surface of the capsule, he shook his head. He probably had never seen a composite material before. Everything they made would be crude, of natural materials. He looked inside, exploring, and then turned and looked at her again.

One of the other men on the horses began talking, gesturing upward--they must have seen the capsule fall and followed its trajectory to her--and then gestured to her, speaking fast. He didn't sound happy. Kythe replied, shaking his head and walking to return to her, looking at her face. He gestured. She peered at him and he gestured again. Her eyes went wide. She nodded, approaching the animal's side, the stick weapon in the way. He gestured to the other side and followed her when she went around.

She looked at Kythe, not knowing what to do next and so excited. He indicated the seat on the animal's back, the part that hung down. He pointed to her foot and she tried, but she couldn't reach. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her so she could use it to swing over, ever so high, Indya laying herself across the animal's neck, afraid she was going to fall, holding on. She felt Kythe get on the horse behind her and he pulled her upright, his big arm snug under her breasts.

She pulled the garment close. Then the horse moved and Indya laughed, part fear. They were savages and she was maybe in terrible danger and a person had hit her here and her family was gone, but she was also riding a horse on a planet. She turned and looked at Kythe. His gaze at her was interested, his own mouth curving, Indya facing forward again.

They rode, his arm around her. After the first excitement had passed, it gave Indya time to think about her parents, her brother. Her family. Her people. They were at the bottom of the ocean. She wouldn't see them again, trapped here with primitive people. She'd already been assaulted. Her eyes welled up and she wiped at them, feeling him touch her. She turned, sniffing. "My mother and father. My brother." She knew he didn't understand her. Indya pointed to the sky.

"Kel-a actha, alea," he said, his voice gentle, his hand brushing her hair from her shoulder.

No, he didn't understand her. She didn't understand him. Indya took a stuttering breath, releasing it. She was tired. It was the middle of her rest cycle, the timing of their infall not their choosing, orbit being what it was. Yawning, she shivered. Not long later, her head drooped and she jerked upright, feeling like she was falling again. Kythe pulled her snug against himself and she leaned back, finding a spot under his chin, feeling her body relaxing.

"Indya," he said, waking her.

Indya heard more voices, straightening, his huge arm still around her. Kythe was strong, much stronger than any man from Atlantis. She'd known sexual dimorphism was more pronounced in the planetary primitives, but it was different to experience it directly.

They were riding into a place with triangle structures made of cloth, tied down like they might blow away, the ground muddy. There were men everywhere, no women or children that she could see. Nomads, probably. All of them stopped what they were doing when they saw her, staring. She stared back at them, her head turning from one side of herself to the other. They were quiet, just looking at her. She twisted and looked up at Kythe behind her.

"You're very tolena, alea," he said.

"What?" she said, realizing, her hand going to her ear. Her earpiece had detected a foreign language and was translating for her. While she'd been sleeping, it had been listening to the speech around itself. It would learn, determining syntagmatic relationships and establishing morphemic units, extrapolating from comparison with thousands of archived languages.

The horse stopped. Kythe got off and reached for her, her hands going to his arms, and then he pulled the long stick from its place in a practiced move. He set her on her feet and she pulled the garment around herself. Several men approached, speaking to Kythe.

"Is she i noita, Rí?" one said.

"What is inust with her eyes, Rí?" another said.

"I kel-a know," Kythe said.

"I'm not inhain you should bed her, Rí."

"Do you have eyes? Octal vesh inth." Kythe said, smiling at her slowly. "I'll lelvjen it."

Indya walked to the cloth dwelling. Thick material, probably plant-based. She touched it.

"Indya," Kythe called.

She turned. He held out his hand. Coming to him, she took it, one of the men laughing softly. Kythe led her into the largest of the movable homes, big inside. The flap fell closed behind them. He set the tall stick against the wall and tugged at his belt, releasing the long curved stick at his waist, putting it over a chair, watching her.

The room had a big heavy table, but it wasn't made of composite. There were papers on it. Real paper. She made a sound, feeling it. A small clear jar with black liquid inside, Indya picking up a small hollow stick and looking at it and then through it. In a moment, Kythe was beside her, taking it from her.

Chairs made of the same stiff substance. Carved, she realized. It must be tree wood, and tapestries, beautiful weaving everywhere. It was by hand, of course, remarkable, the work of their craftspeople. There were tapestries on the ground, the space rich with texture and color.

A standing structure with many holes had paper rolled inside them. She touched one, pulling it out and opening it, seeing writing. That was encouraging. He came and took it from her gently, putting it back. She saw it, her eyes going wide. Fire. That was fire, real fire, just here, a tall creamy cylinder that wept. Her finger came out to touch the heat, feeling it, and then it hurt and she yelped, pulling it back, her finger going to her mouth, Kythe's brows going up again.

Her finger was red and it hurt. She'd forgotten that fire wasn't just light and heat on a planet, but could burn. There was a large bed with strange blankets, woven, some of them with hair on them. For a moment, she wondered how they got the hair to stick to the blankets, but it was soft. There were large boxes with ornate lids and a piece of furniture with a vessel on top with water inside. She looked at Kythe. "May I have some water?" she said in her language, touching the vessel.

He got a cup and brought it to her. She took it and poured some from the vessel, drinking, the taste complex and strange. Setting it down, she stifled a yawn, still the middle of her night. He gestured at the bed, a man's voice coming at the flap of the tent. Indya went and got on the bed as three men came in. They all looked at her. She frowned and pulled the garment around herself and got under the covers, the strange hairy blanket, turning her shoulder and closing her eyes.

Indya woke, her eyes opening. Men were still talking, and her earpiece had been listening again.

"What can she be if she's not a noita, Rí, falling out of the sky? And this thing you say she fell in like a shivist for the amuth. Bors says her eyes glow. She's a noita, I say, shifting her shape."

"You know I'm not ivernestea, Kabel. I don't believe in noitas."

"Does she even talk, Rí?"

"Some language I've never heard before."

"I've never seen such beauty, Rí, but she seems ulta in her head."

"I don't suppose she needs to be olakith, Rí, for a tumble," one of the men said, several laughing.

" Aven kama, Rí. She'll fight you eventually. Don't be fooled or she'll catch you palik."

"She may be a Tapin duvat. Women that beautiful don't just fall out of the sky."

Indya woke again when he touched her, turning her head. Kythe was sitting beside her on the bed, watching her. There was a fire in the cloth room in the center. She stared at the color. He touched her arm again and she moved over to make room for him, shivering. It was cold now.

His hand went to her arm again, Indya turning her head. "You're beautiful, alea," he said.

Her brows went up. His hand came and tugged on the garment he'd given her. He wanted it back. She nodded and stood up, pulling it off, handing it to him. He took it, setting it aside and looking at her body. Indya reached, getting a blanket and pulling it around herself, sitting down. Cold. She shivered, lying down and curling up into a ball away from him. She shivered again. Beyond the arboretum, Atlantis had always been the same temperature. His hand came and touched her shoulder.

She turned and looked at him. "Kythe?" she said.

His shirt was off now. She sat up, her eyes roaming his shoulders, big, his arms, also big. His chest and belly. There was so much of him, and his body was worn and different colors and there were rough and raised lines on him and he had muscles that moved and shifted. Not so much hair all over him as on the other man, although still more than she was used to on a person. There was a certain appeal, certainly. He was handsome. She smiled at him a little, glancing.

His eyes got interested and he smiled back, reaching to pull a long strand of her hair to his nose. "You smell like flowers." He leaned forward, his face closer, angled and kissed her mouth.

Indya drew back sharply, her eyes going to his, frowning. She shook her head.

"You didn't think I would do that," he observed, leaning back. "You're very beautiful. It's a shame, but I think you might be simple, yes. Do you even know why you're here in my tent?"

She shook her head again.

His brows went up. "You understand me?"

She shrugged a little and nodded.

His eyes narrowed and he backed off the bed, on his feet, a big chest, looming over her. "Who are you?" he demanded, sounding angry now.

"Indya," she said, also backing away and getting off the bed on the other side, facing him.

"Where did you come from?" he demanded, his voice loud, coming around the bed. "Where are your people? Who are they?"

Indya opened her mouth. She didn't speak his language. "I came from Atlantis," she said. He didn't speak hers. "They've gone to the seafloor." He wouldn't understand.

"How do you understand Odien?" he demanded. "Do you speak it?"

She shook her head, dropping the blanket and retreating, but he came after her, putting his hand on her arm and yanking, shaking her. Indya cried out.

"How do you know it?" he said, his voice harsh, and he was hurting her arm, holding it too tightly. "Are you a duvat? Tell me. Where did you learn it?"

She pulled the earpiece out, showing it to him, her hand shaking.

He dropped her arm and looked down, taking it. He reached and moved her hair, touching her ear, looking at it. "Somfata ena aclan?" he said, looking at the earpiece. He smelled it.

She motioned to his ear, reaching out and pushing his hand, giving the voice command to her earpiece, her voice pattern the only one it would recognize. "Set, two speakers," she said, her voice shaking. It would now translate her language to him and his language to her.

He bent a little and put the earpiece near his ear.

"I don't speak your language," she told him. "The earpiece tells me what you're saying."

He drew his head back sharply, his nostrils flaring, and threw the earpiece. She gave a small cry and went after it, finding it on the floor. She put it back in her ear as he came toward her.

"Is it magic?" he said, his voice harsh. "Is it magic?"

"No," she said. She remembered the word. "Idi. Idi, Kythe. Idi...malorin." She cried out when he reached her, remembering him hurting her arm, Indya running past him to the door.

He came after her. Violent, a planetary barbarian. He was going to do something awful to her. He caught her at the door, holding her and she couldn't get away. She cried out again, panicking, hearing laughter outside. He wasn't letting go. She burst into tears.

He pulled her back into the room and held her against his big bare chest, his huge arms around her, not moving. "Calm down, alea. You can't go outside the tent with no clothing."

Indya looked up, breathing fast, her hair everywhere around her and in her face. He slowly released her and stepped back. She stayed where she was, shaking, and then she sniffed, wiping her nose on her fingers. He motioned to her ear, his mouth tight.

Indya hesitated and then reached, getting her earpiece. When he put his hand out for it, she hesitated again. She was afraid he'd destroy it. He waited, his hand still extended. Her shoulders fell and she put it in his hand, watching, anxious, as he took it and put it near his ear again.

"Lokswela n'varin. Omish n'varin alti corviti," he said to her, gesturing

She shook her head at him, shrugging, still breathing fast. "It's not magic," she said between breaths in Alcon, her language. "Magic is just in stories. It's a mechanism." Indya looked around, seeing it on the table. A sextant like they had for toys in Atlantis. She went and picked it up, Kythe watching her with narrowed eyes. She brought it back. "This is a mechanism. It's not magic. If you didn't know this mechanism, you might think it was magic when you first saw what it can do, that it can navigate. That earpiece is just a more complicated mechanism."

He blinked, looking at the sextant. He said something to her she didn't understand. He looked at the earpiece, turning it over in his hand, rolling it in his fingers. He put it near his ear and motioned to her again.

"My people lived far away in a great sky ship," she said, thinking what he would understand.

His brows went up. He gestured at the sky.

"Yes," she said. "We lived in a ship in the sky. Something happened. An accident. I fell here."

Kythe was studying her, and then his eyes dropped to her body. He held out his hand. She looked at it, beginning to breathe fast, and then at him. She shook her head, frowning lightly, her hand going to rub her arm. She thought she might bruise. He nodded to her.

Indya walked to him and took his hand. He pulled her back to the bed, gentle now, and dropped her hand, getting the blanket. When he put it around her, she sat down, pulling it close, still cold. He sat down with her. He put the earpiece in his ear and motioned again.

She tried to think of how to explain. "You and I were the same people once, long ago. The buildings that are empty and falling down, the old cities that you see everywhere, we used to live in them. We had complicated mechanisms like that one. But the sun sent out fire and it caused the mechanisms to break everywhere. Some of us were in our sky ship and we saw it happen to our people below. We couldn't help them, so we stayed. The ones on the surface forgot the mechanisms. Then we decided to come to live on the bottom of the sea, instead. But coming to the ground, the ship broke. My family," she said, feeling tears coming again, wiping her eyes, "they're alive, but they live at the bottom of the sea now. Instead of going with them, I fell here."

He said something and she looked at him, wiping her eyes again. She shook her head, not able to understand him, since he had the earpiece. He smiled at her like he had before, but she didn't smile back this time. He said something else to her, Indya watching him. She thought he knew she didn't understand and was talking to himself. He reached out and tugged the blanket.

She frowned lightly. "Can I keep it, Kythe? I'm cold." When he gestured to the bed, she lay down on her back, the blanket over her. These people looked at each other a great deal.

He lay down beside her, turning toward her, on his elbow, Indya feeling awkward because he was so close, and he still had the earpiece.

"Don't your people sleep when it's dark on the surface?" When he nodded, she eyed him. "It's dark now, Kythe."

He grinned at her, changing his face, and she almost smiled back at him, looking away instead. He reached and touched her cheek. When she looked at him, his eyes went to her mouth. He leaned forward again.

"You can't kiss me," she said, stopping him. "We don't know one another."

When his eyebrows went up and he grinned, tugging again, she frowned. "I'm cold."

Dislodging it from around her, he got under the blanket with her, and she turned her back to him, although she didn't feel sleepy anymore. Startling when she felt his hand on her butt, she moved and turned to stare at him. "What are you doing?"

He reached out again, touching her leg, her skin sensitive.

Indya's stomach flipped over. "You want to have sex with me?" she said.

His eyes were studying her face, his hand still on her leg. He slowly nodded.

Looking at him, a sidelong glance, her brows went up. "I don't know you. We're strangers."