The Beast King (Royal Aliens 3)

“That does not sound healthy. Universal dietary guidelines for carbon based bipeds recommend protein and plant matter.”

“Universal dietary guidelines can suck my…”

She trailed off as the ship’s catering tendrils snaked through the air with a platter of lightly steamed vegetables. Everything on the ship was generated by the ship’s plant. There were no true meats, though there were protein rich substances which stood well instead. If Konan wanted real meat, he would land the ship somewhere and murder something.

She stared at him with wide eyes as the ship delivered her meal. She still wasn’t quite at home with his vessel. She didn’t understand it. She was not alone. Most aliens failed to understand the significance of the Masih royal space barge.

“Is that… did you?”

“I didn’t tell the ship what to do, if that’s what you’re asking. It knows you’re hungry. It also knows what you need to eat.”

She took the plate, awkwardly thanking the plant as she did.

“So the ship is a plant, and it has a brain and it wants to look after the crew?”

“It’s complicated. Eat your food.”

She obeyed, reluctantly, and yet hungrily. At first, she picked at the meal nervously, as if she wasn’t sure that it would taste good, or if it would nourish her. But after a few tentative bites, she started to swallow her food with increasing gusto, until she was stuffing it into her mouth without any shame, or manners for that matter.

“What did you eat on Dominax’s world?”

“What I could. Not a lot. No vegetables. I don't think plants grow there. The whole place is lava and this awful fog you have to hide from or it burns your skin. I think I might have gotten luckier than the girl Dominax took. I don’t know how she survived. But she did. I’m not sure I will survive you.”

She rattled on conversationally without needing or wanting his input.

“I’m not a spy,” she said. “I’ve never been anything like that. Back on Earth I described what was happening. They call it being a journalist, but I call it a narrator, because all I ever did was repeat what had happened — and that’s what I was supposed to do. Most of my colleagues, they were always adding parts of themselves, deciding what the story was before they told it. Then putting it into ten bullet points and uploading it to the internet.”

“So you told stories. You’re a storyteller.”

“Yes!” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with new passion and light. “Stories, at their best, are like this ship. They have lives of their own. When you try to get in the way of the story, and tell it where it is supposed to go, it rebels. They never understood that the way I did.”

“You sound bitter.”

“Maybe I am. But maybe I shouldn’t be. I’m in the middle of one of the most extraordinary stories that has ever happened to a human. Though I can’t tell anyone.”

“So you are a spy.”

“Spies steal information from one side to give to the other. I’m not stealing. Besides, if I was doing something wrong, don’t you think the ship would know? Don’t you think it would refuse to feed me?”

“The ship is more trusting than I am.”

“So, you’re saying a king cannot afford to trust anyone? That must be a lonely existence.”

“Don’t worry about my social needs, spy.”

He was being cold. Keeping her at a distance. Fucking her had possibly been a mistake. He’d thought it would give him control. Instead, it had given him connection, and now she was using it to try to empathize with him. He didn’t trust that. He didn’t trust her feelings, or more importantly — his feelings.

He was glad when a tentative knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

“Stay there,” he said. “The ship will watch you, so don’t try anything.”

“What would I try?”

“Whatever you might be thinking of trying… don’t.”

She gave him a befuddled look, but nodded.

He left her alone, hoping that the ship would do what he couldn’t and keep her safely contained. There was so much more going on than one human spy. There was a universe of pain to overcome.

His engineer greeted him with a salute and a bow. “I am sorry to interrupt you,” he said. “I know you are busy interrogating the spy.”

“I am always here for the crew,” Konan replied. “Nothing I do personally matters more than the needs of the crew on this ship. Know that, more than you know anything.”

“Thank you, sire. Unfortunately, I do not have good news. The ship was substantially drained by the Galactor encounter and by being docked in the lava bay. I suggest we set her down somewhere, let her root.”

Konan nodded in agreement. They had been pushing the ship hard for months without a proper break, or refueling.