Close Remembrance

Chapter 14-2

“Korum, I—”

“Shhh,” he said, lifting his finger to her lips in a gesture he’d seen humans make. “Don’t worry about it now. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

And Korum meant it. He had not set out to prove anything when he kissed Mia, but her reaction clearly demonstrated her susceptibility to him. Despite the memory loss, she was as strongly attracted to him as before—a realization that filled him with bone-deep masculine satisfaction. He would never force her, but he also likely wouldn’t have to. He suspected his little charl was more adventurous than she thought herself to be.

She was still watching him warily, so he bent his head and kissed her delicious mouth again. Just a brief kiss this time, no more than a brush of his lips against her own. His body screamed for him to do more, to take her now, but there was no time. He had to go get ready for the fight.

But even a small kiss was enough to distract her right now. Her eyes looked soft again, hazy with desire. Korum had to force himself to look away in order to regain control.

“Come,” he said hoarsely, “let’s get you to your seat. I have to go now, but I want to make sure you’re settled with Delia before I leave.”

“Of course.” She seemed anxious again, some of the color leaving her face. “Is it starting at noon sharp?”

“Yes,” Korum said, taking her hand and starting to lead her through the crowd. “We tend to be punctual, so we have exactly ten minutes before the ceremony begins.”

They walked toward the front row, where Delia and Arus were already in place. Only one float next to Delia remained empty, and Korum led Mia there. As they approached, the crowd parted, letting them through. His acquaintances gave him polite nods as they passed, while others stared at him and his charl with unabashed curiosity. This didn’t bother Korum one bit. As a Council member with a certain reputation, he was used to this type of attention. Mia was a figure of interest as well, given rumors of her involvement with the Resistance. The Krinar did not consider staring rude; on the contrary, it was a sign of respect to look at someone directly.

“Oh, good,” Delia said as they got to her seat. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it before the start of the fight.”

“No worries, we’re here,” Mia said, blushing a little. Korum suppressed a smile, knowing she was embarrassed about their public make-out session. His little darling was still such an innocent; he enjoyed her shyness almost as much as he liked curing her of it.

Arus gave Korum a level look. “We’ll take good care of Mia, I promise. You don’t need to worry about her right now.”

“Thanks,” Korum said, glad that the other Councilor understood his unspoken concern. Even knowing that it was safe, he still felt uncomfortable leaving Mia alone in public. What happened with Saret had left an indelible impression in his mind, and he knew he would have to work hard to overcome his fear of losing her.

All around them, other Krinar settled in their floats, clearing out of the aisles and emptying the Arena field. Less than five minutes remained before the start of the ceremony, and Korum still had to prepare, mentally and physically, for what was to come.

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, watching Mia’s eyes fill with moisture at his words.

“Be careful,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Please, Korum, be careful.” And wrapping her arms around his waist, she gave him a fierce hug, holding him for several long seconds.

Touched, Korum hugged her back and then gently stepped out of her embrace. “I love you,” he said, giving her one last smile.

“And I love you,” Mia whispered as he started to walk away.

Korum stopped in his tracks, hardly daring to believe his ears. Turning his head, he saw that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He wanted to grab her, to ask her if she really meant it, but there was no time. Instead, he gave her the biggest smile he could and continued on toward a small structure on the far side of the Arena.

The ceremony was about to begin.

Mia sat down on her floating seat, feeling like a vise was squeezing her heart. Despite all of Korum’s reassurances, she knew there was a very real chance that she was seeing him for the last time.

The thought was so agonizing that Mia couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“Mia? Listen to me, Mia. He’s going to be fine, okay?” It was Delia, her voice calm and soothing.

Mia blinked, focusing on the other charl with effort. “I know,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Of course, I know that.”

The Krinar male who was with Delia gave her a reassuring smile too. “She’s right, Mia,” he said in a deep, quiet voice. “Your cheren is very good at this. He’s never lost a fight yet. I’m Arus, by the way. We’ve never met in person before.”

“Oh, hi,” Mia said, automatically offering her hand for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Arus’s smile got wider. “No handshake allowed, I’m afraid,” he said gently. “I wouldn’t want to end up on that field facing Korum next.”

“Oh, right.” Mia withdrew her hand, mildly embarrassed. “I’m sorry; I forgot. Korum did tell me a little bit about your customs yesterday.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Delia said. “I’m very impressed by how quickly you’re re-learning everything. It took me a long time to get as comfortable as you seem to be right now.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why that is,” Mia admitted. “Maybe I’m remembering things on a subconscious level.”

“You also seem to have strong feelings for Korum already,” Arus observed, his dark eyes filled with speculation as he looked at Mia. “More than could be expected in this situation. I wonder why. I’m not a mind expert, but this seems fairly unusual.”

“Really?” Mia frowned in puzzlement. “I thought maybe a memory erasure procedure doesn’t get rid of memories completely—”

“It’s supposed to,” Arus said. “If it’s a standard memory wipe, then you should be as you were a few months ago: with zero knowledge of our world or Korum. The fact that you’re adjusting so quickly is... interesting, to say the least.”

Mia looked at him, wondering what it all meant. Ever since she woke up in Lenkarda, her feelings and reactions have been strange. Was it possible that Saret had screwed up and didn’t succeed in erasing her memories fully after all?

A loud chime-like sound startled Mia out of her speculations.

The pre-fight ceremony was beginning.

A tall Krinar male dressed in an unusual blue outfit stepped out of one of the small structures on the edges of the Arena and walked toward the middle of the field.

“That’s Voret,” Delia whispered, leaning toward Mia for a second. “He’s one of the oldest Council members.”

Mia nodded, her eyes glued to what was happening below.

“Residents of Earth and those watching us on Krina right now,” Voret said, his deep voice filling the entire amphitheater, “welcome to the ancient rite of the Arena Challenge. As all of you know, the fight today is between two of our esteemed Council members: Loris and Korum. The cause of this Challenge, like all others, is a disagreement that can only be settled in blood.”

Voret raised his arm and blue light seemed to flow from his fingertips, becoming a giant three-dimensional image floating in mid-air. It showed a strange forest, with green, yellow, red, and orange plants. “For generations, we have gathered in the Arena to witness the resolution of such a disagreement. It all began after the Great War, when we nearly tore each other apart after the demise of the lonar—our source of life-giving blood. Violence was a way of life then—and it would still be today if not for the Arena Challenge.”

The floating image began to change, as though a camera was zooming in on a particular portion of that alien forest. Mia stared in fascination as the image showed a Krinar male, dressed in some brown-colored scraps of material, leaping through the trees with a speed that would make Tarzan jealous. Below him, small humanoid creatures were scurrying on the ground, their bodies covered with light blond hair and nothing else. These had to be the lonar, Mia realized, seeing the predatory look on the Krinar male’s face as he stalked them from above. He wasn’t as beautiful as the modern Ks; his features were rougher, less symmetric, though he still had the typical K coloring of dark hair and golden skin.

“We have evolved as hunters. Predators.” Voret’s voice echoed throughout the Arena. “We need violence. We crave it. For a peaceful society to function, we need an outlet—a way to resolve disagreements that would otherwise lead to conflict and war. The Arena is that outlet.”

The Krinar in the image leapt from the trees above, jumping down to the ground in front of the hapless lonar. They screamed in fear, their cries oddly monkey-like, and turned to run, but it was too late. One of them—a female—was already caught in the K’s steely embrace, and he was slicing his sharp teeth over her neck. Bright red blood trickled down her neck and chest, its color startling against the primate’s light-colored fur.

“The extinction of the lonar nearly destroyed us. The fact that we survived is a testament to the heroic efforts of those scientists who came up with a blood substitute in the middle of war and chaos.”

The image changed now, no longer showing the forest or the Krinar feeding on the helpless female. Instead, three strong-featured male Ks were displayed, their harsh faces more similar to the ancient hunter’s than to the gorgeous Krinar surrounding Mia.

“In the Arena, we honor all those who came before us—and all those who will come after. With this rite of violence, we honor peace—and the laws that make it possible.”

Now the floating image was showing the same colorful forest as before—only this time it was populated by the pale oblong structures that served as modern Krinar dwellings. A couple was strolling through the woods, a K male and female, wearing the light-colored clothing Mia was used to seeing. They looked beautiful and happy, walking together while holding hands. The image lingered for a few seconds, then winked out of existence, leaving only Voret standing in the middle of the Arena.

He remained quiet for a second, and then his voice boomed again. “Now it is time for the fighters to join me. Loris and Korum, please enter the Arena.”

Mia held her breath as the two Ks emerged, Korum from a structure to the right of Mia and Loris from a structure to the left. Instead of the usual Krinar attire—or the formal white clothing of the spectators—they each wore a pair of calf-length pants that were the color of fresh blood. Their feet and chests were bare, except for swirls of red paint that decorated their arms and torsos.

Swallowing to moisten her dry throat, Mia stared at her lover in fascination. He looked gorgeous—and utterly savage. Sitting in the front row, she could see the yellow-gold color of his eyes, light and striking against the bronze hue of his skin. His semi-nakedness only accentuated the power of his body; his muscles flexed and rippled as he walked, his posture graceful and threatening at the same time.

The other Krinar was an inch or two taller, with a slightly bulkier build. The expression on his hawk-like features was dark and full of hatred.

The two fighters approached the blue-clad figure in the middle of the Arena, pausing respectfully a couple of feet away. Voret turned toward Loris and addressed him, “Loris, you have chosen to challenge Korum today. Is that true?”

“Yes,” the Krinar said, his eyes glittering with the same dark anticipation Mia could see on Korum’s face.

Voret nodded, apparently satisfied. Turning to Korum, he asked, “Do you accept Loris’s challenge?”

“I do,” Korum replied.

“Then let the fight begin.”