Human Trauma 2, page 14
part #2 of Human Trauma Series
Lysa’s behavior was not surprising, considering the horror stories she had told him about her previous attempts at romance being little more than opportunities for others to mock or belittle her. Martinez was the first real relationship Lysa had ever had.
“Still, I do not wish for her to steal you away. I refuse to trust her,” Lysa pouted.
Lysa did have a point; Shiksie crossed a rigid no-go boundary with Martinez. He would have to do something to assure Lysa everything would be alright, and that Shiksie understood how wrong what she did was.
“I will figure something out. Maybe Harnsis can change my shift,” Martinez replied after racking his brain for a few moments. “But we will have to see about that when we get back.”
Lysa sighed and nodded in agreement. “If we must. Considering how late it is, I doubt anything could be done about it now.”
“Exactly. Don’t worry, I will handle it,” Martinez assured, leaning back and giving a reassuring, warm smile. A gesture Lysa returned, although Martinez could still see the worry in her four ruby-red eyes and the gentle upturn of her plush lips.
His Ruh’ah had much to worry about. Between Shiksie’s attempt, her new work shift, and them going to meet her parents after years of isolation certainly gave his Aviex lover many things to juggle in her mind.
“Come on, let’s get some rest; we have a long day tomorrow,” Martinez said, kissing Lysa’s cheek and softly guiding her toward the bedroom.
The following morning, Martinez and Lysa were up early, far earlier than usual on their day off. Typically, the happy couple was more than happy to sleep in until well after noon when they had no pre-existing commitments.
Today, however, before the twin suns were high in the Renoural sky, Lysa poked at Martinez to get him up and at ‘em. Martinez rolled over to see why she was awake so early but kept his mouth shut, seeing the look in her eye and the odd way she carried herself.
Almost all of her usual grace, tranquility, and soothing aura were gone, replaced by quick, jerky motions. Additionally, unlike her typical morning smile, she was blank-faced, with deep bags under her eyes.
If Martinez was a less tactful man, he would tell her she looked like hammered shit, but he was at least wise enough to know you should not tell your girlfriend that under any circumstance. Much less when she likely did not sleep at all.
“Did you not sleep well?” Martinez questioned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.
“I did not,” Lysa yawned, “I was too nervous.”
Martinez propped back against the headboard and wrapped Lysa in a one-armed hug, letting her rest on his shoulder. “Do you want to try to sleep more? We don’t have our flight for a few hours.”
Lysa snuggled closer, her bare chest pressing tightly against his arm. “No, I would not sleep anyway,” she admitted. “I will try to get some rest on the flight. We will be in the air most of the afternoon anyway.”
That was true; the shuttle flight from Draun to Cellna would be six standard hours long, so Lysa would have plenty of time to sleep there. Lord knew Martinez had spent many shuttle flights blissfully napping, either that or reading.
Martinez hoped that reaching Cellna would ease Lysa’s tension. He believed this would be the case because Lysa always spoke fondly of the town and surrounding mountain ranges, even if the topic of her father would sour those memories.
“Alright, I suppose we should get ready then,” Martinez said.
“In a moment,” Lysa replied and nuzzled against his neck. “You’re warm, and I do not wish to let you go yet.”
Smiling widely, Martinez leaned closer against his gothic lover and ensured the blanket covered them entirely. The Human had no reason to argue about some time snuggling; with how hectic work had been lately, their usual nightly cuddling had been reduced to a few days a week—to both of their discomforts, so savoring this before packing and squeezing into a cramped and crowded shuttlecraft was perfect.
Eventually, after both had their fill of gentle beatific cuddling, Lysa’s house became a flurry of activity as they got ready to rush out the door to get to the shuttle port on time and with all the essentials on hand.
Because Martinez had already packed and left his luggage at Lysa’s the previous day, he prepared them some easy-on-the-go meals while Lysa packed her suitcase, diddy bag, and anything else she wished to bring along.
Lysa leaned in a bit to some of the customs and courtesies her mother had ingrained in her soul, specifically the tradition of bringing gifts to one’s parents when visiting. The custom was a holdover from the desolate planet Verrilon, but it was still regularly practiced as a sign of care and love to those letting you stay within their abode.
Her form of tribute took her some time to consider, mainly because she knew so little about her father that it was impossible to give the horrible man something befitting his taste that she was willing to buy.
For her mother, Lysa imported a bottle of Human wine, specifically a bottle from Martinez’s home state of California. She placed the bottle in her carry-on and carefully wrapped it in clothes to ensure it did not break. Mother did adore wine, and gifting her a sample from Martinez’s origin home would be perfect for his future, Jaru’ha—hopefully future Jaru’ha.
Her father’s gift received no such care or reverence. Lysa had purchased the cheapest Hemozin possible and tossed it into her checked bag, uncaring if it survived the journey. Unlike Mother’s gift, his was still wrapped in the cheap brown paper bag from the convenience store.
As Martinez cooked, he regularly peeked over at Lysa in the bedroom, trying to gauge her state of mind and how she was affected by all that was happening. What he saw was both concerning and unsurprising.
Lysa was trying to look composed but was clearly off in the stars. Periodically, while folding a piece of clothing, she would stare at the garment as though it would tell her the mysteries of the universe.
When she returned to Draun and resumed packing, almost all of her fluidity was gone. She was ambling listlessly around the bedroom and would have to look around for each item. Both behaviors were significantly out of place for the usually composed and assured gothic woman.
Martinez was unsure how much of it was nervousness about reconciling with her father, Shiksie’s debacle, or sleep deprivation. Either way, seeing her like this was depressing, but Martinez knew there was not much he could do about it in the short term; all he could do was help her through the day and the next two weeks.
Shortly after eating the simple steak sandwiches Martinez had prepared, Martinez double-checked that everything was packed, paying especially keen attention to Lysa’s gear. Once he had a warm and fuzzy feeling that there was nothing vital being left behind, they hailed a taxi and were on their way to the shuttleport.
The ride there was uneventful but somewhat strange. It wasn’t until they were almost at the port that Martinez realized why it felt odd, and a thought came across his mind: How long had it been since he had been in a vehicle?
Draun was built from the ground up with pedestrians in mind, with separate streets for vehicles and foot traffic crisscrossing and alternating within the skyscrapers. Doing his best to recall, he realized it must have been at least half a standard year since he was in any vehicle, and that was a military truck, not a plush taxi.
That thought made him have another idea. What about Cellna? Would it be the same? Would they rent a vehicle? Or would Lysa’s mother drive them around?
“How are we going to get around once we are there?” Martinez questioned.
Lysa took a few moments, and Martinez repeated the question several times before she focused. “Oh—we can rent a vehicle at the shuttle port. I have a license and can drive anyway.”
That was good news; Martinez knew Cellna was an out-there, more country kind of place. It was called a city because it met a certain population threshold, not because its description was anything like Draun, Los Angeles, or New York. According to the pictures Martinez had seen, Cellna was a small, humble place that was welcoming.
Once at Baribla Shuttleport, checking in and loading up was smooth and straightforward. The air transportation inspectors scanned their luggage and checked identification cards and tickets before ushering them aboard the civilian transport craft and to their seats.
Lysa settled into the window seat while Martinez took the adjacent one. Like all the other civil transport shuttles Martinez had seen, this one only had two rows of seats on each side, with an aisle in the center.
Not unlike the airplanes still used on Earth.
The chief difference between Human airplanes and this shuttle was the propulsion and aerodynamics. Instead of diesel-fueled turbine engines and a well-designed airfoil, the shuttle was powered by four rotating noise-suppressed repulsers and was shaped like a brick.
Martinez had been on plenty of aircraft like this during his stint in the Human Navy; most non-human-designed aircraft were similar in their shape and function because when your engines were so fuel efficient, they had to be refueled every few decades and not after each flight. The efficiency of the building and replacing parts took precedence over a sleek exterior. At least the interior was comfortable enough, if not a bit cramped.
Just before take-off, one of the flight attendants worked their way up and down the rows of chatting aliens, ensuring everyone was buckled and seated, and asked if they wanted a snack for the trip.
Upon reaching their row, she asked Martinez if he could wake Lysa and ask her to put on her belt. He had not even noticed she had fallen asleep already, having instead kept a close eye on the other passengers as they were loading.
Martinez acknowledged the request but did not wake Lysa up. Instead of interrupting her foray into dreamland, he buckled her in and turned his attention to his datapad, pulling up one of the novels written by Lysa’s mother to pass the time on the flight. He had promised Lysa he would read her novels.
While the book was not in the genre Martinez would usually read, preferring to read thrillers, he would still push on. The stories of Kirkai Lourin were not written with him as the target audience; they were romance mysteries with a James Bond-esque character targeted toward women.
At least Lysa’s mother was an outstanding novelist, and having something to read was better than him sitting here and stewing in what was making him nervous, meeting the parents. Martinez had never been in a relationship that was serious enough for him to meet the family. So all of this would be new unmapped ground for him. And nothing made him more worried than having no idea what he was about to walk into.
Lysa had already briefed him on her parents, their lives, and the situation that caused her to leave, so he knew the big landmines going forward. However, that left a lot of the area a gray space—possibly filled with dangers to him or Lysa.
Martinez sighed, flipped to the next page of the novel, and did his best to focus on the story, trying not to let his mind conjure up thousands of violent scenarios with Lysa’s father. A man that all he knew of was former special forces and was more than willing to be cruel to his daughter.
Section Fourteen
No Place Like Home
The SUV that Martinez and Lysa rented for the trip rumbled down the dirt road, the gravel crunching beneath the heavy vehicle’s tires. It was the perfect choice for their needs as it offered plenty of storage space and was more than capable of traversing the potholes of the backwoods.
Despite this, they had to admit the rental was extraordinarily plush and cost them next to nothing. It had heated seats, individual view screens, built-in GPS, automatic tinting windows, and an automatic drive function—that Lysa refused to use.
That was all before the incredibly soft faux leather seats and well-colored gray and white interior tied the luxury vehicle together.
It reminded Martinez of several old Human-designed cars his grandfather restored and owned in Los Angeles.
Being in an excellent vehicle made Martinez question why he had not bought a car since arriving on the planet. Then he looked up the cost of the Pysotric model M and remembered why. With that many zeroes at the end, Martinez expected the damn thing to suck him off and do his taxes while driving him to work.
Martinez surrendered to the fact that he could not afford a car anytime soon, so he turned his attention to the trees on the side of the small dirt road Lysa had just turned down. The scenery changed slightly since they left the shuttle port a few hours ago.
The shuttle port was centered in a wide clearing in one of the valleys and was surrounded by rolling foothills covered in thick green coniferous trees. They had already diverted before they reached Cellna proper, so the town itself was still a mystery to Martinez. But he knew they would visit it soon enough.
Unlike the route toward Cellna, the little road they were on now had no buildings, streetlamps, or signs of sentient life along its borders; it was quite the opposite. The occasional meadow, babbling brook, or small gulley broke up the endless oceans of trees; beyond that, nothing but bountiful nature.
The area was downright gorgeous and put several worlds the Human Navy had sent Martinez to fight on to shame regarding its pure, peaceful vibe.
This place made Verilon look like a piece of shit, but that was not saying much. That desert world offered little to anyone other than the local Faruqua. Those lizards were so well adapted to the heat and dry climates they likely would die being somewhere this lush.
The only place he could think of that came close was Harudeth. The section of that planet he had fought on was a gorgeous mountain range with stunning purplish dirt and blue foliage.
He would not mind returning there someday and taking Lysa on a grand hiking and camping trip. But that was a pipe dream as far as he thought of it. The last he heard, Harudeth was still being restored to its former glory and had many minor guerilla wars raging across its surface. He would never bring Lysa to a warzone. She did not need to see how cruel the universe and GU could be.
After taking in the scenery and feeling, for the first time in months, if not years, like he did not have to keep an eye over his shoulder for a potential threat or IED on the side of the road, Martinez looked over at Lysa. She looked far better after having slept the entire shuttle ride here.
Gone were the bags under her eyes and most of the languid, sluggish movements he had seen earlier in the day. She almost seemed to be back to her usual self—almost. If not for Martinez knowing his Aviex girlfriend so well, he would miss the slightly blank stare and the white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, a detail that was difficult to see because of her pale white complexion.
But he could not deny that she looked leagues better than this morning. He hoped that was a good sign for the trip.
One thing Martinez could not understand was why Lysa insisted on actually driving. The car could have driven them to her parent’s house without issue, and she could have laid back for more rest. He assumed it had something to do with them circumventing Cellna by turning onto this dirt road a kilometer before the town’s borders, but she would not give him a straight answer when he asked.
“How much further is your parent’s place, anyway?” Martinez asked. “I haven’t seen any neighbors, and this seems out of the way.”
“We arrived at their property almost an hour ago,” Lysa replied, turning down the music slightly so they could chat.
“How much land do your parents own?” Martinez inquired.
Lysa pondered the question momentarily, trying to recall the exact answer, but it had been so long since she had lived here that she was unsure. In the past, she was little and only left their property to go to town and school. That and for all she knew, her parents had purchased more land, expanding their dominion greatly. Knowing her father’s desire for privacy, that was highly likely.
“I cannot recall the number, but we can ask Mother about that when we arrive. Just know you can walk all day in any direction from the house, and you would still be on their property,” Lysa said assuredly.
That revelation made Martinez wonder something he had not since meeting Lysa: how wealthy was her family? The idea just had never really crossed his mind. Both he and she were well off and could be considered lower middle class in the GU, living comfortably and with little issue on their incomes.
Martinez knew that her Mother was a successful novelist and that her father used to be in the Aviex military before being medically retired and becoming a lumberjack. He had assumed they were middle class, upper middle class at best. But apparently, they were far more affluent than he had ever imagined.
While Martinez would not say it outright, that they were so rich set a few alarm bells off in his head. He had dealt with plenty of shady politicians and twisted former operators in his day. He did not want to believe it, but with Kryoll’s shady and likely well-connected background, he could see the old Aviex leveraging his experience for some kickbacks.
Evidence that Lysa’s parents were firmly in the GU upper class was only made more apparent when the vehicle crested a small hill and entered an open glade, revealing the true grandeur of their property.
From this high vantage, nature’s bounty spread from horizon to horizon. Three buildings were plain as day, with glimpses of the rest of the Veringal compound peeking out from the trees.
Two structures looked like houses and had the most area cleared out around them. Both were somewhat rustic in design and reminded Maritnez of log cabins, but neither was small enough to be called one. They were twice the size of Lysa’s home back in Draun and could likely comfortably house six to ten people.
The other building in sight was a detached garage of some kind. That was evident because the road led right up to the large doors in front of it. If it weren’t that, the only other thing Martinez could think it was would be a barn, but with no servant animals in sight, he doubted that was the reason.
