I can't believe we're lining up to get a
parasite," Harlow grumbles at my side.
"Believe it, sister," Sandra tells her, hopping up and down to
stay warm. "If it stops my ass from freezing off, I'll take a
dozen of them."
I'm on board with Nadine at this point. I'm wearing three
layers of leather and furs, my boots are double-lined, and I still
feel like a frozen icicle as we stand in the snow, watching a
hunt. Or rather, the others are watching a hunt. I'm watching a
bunch of colourful blobs move around in a field of white.
We're standing in the snow, our group of humans huddled a
short distance away from the others. The dragons are chasing
down some big animal called a Korr-thgtar so they can get us
something called a korr. It seems that all living things on this
planet have a korr—a parasite—that helps them survive and
keeps them from getting sick. It's what makes everyone's eyes
glow funky colours.
Hearing that I'm going to get a permanent parasite—which Liz
jokingly calls a "core"—has been a bit of an…adjustment. I
mean, there's a small bonus in that it'll stop us from getting
colds and help us thermoregulate—two things that are sorely
needed amongst the cluster of humans in our group. I'm
starting to forget what it's like to be warm again. Chaihong and
Sharon have raging colds and Harlow's nose is so red she looks
like a country bumpkin clown.
It's cold. It's miserable. It's exhausting. At this point, I
welcome my "core" overlord.
Of course, there's a catch. There's always a catch. I'm trying
not to think about it, though.
So I put my hand to my eyes and squint, trying like heck to see
what's going on out in the distance. Zoe stands nearby, along
with Harlow's husband, Rodge, protecting us. The others—
including the tribe's chief—are busy hunting down the critter
that's going to give us all our cores and save us from
freezing to death out here.
It's been a few days since we woke up now, and it's been an
adjustment for all of us. From learning names to learning
about this planet to learning, well, everything. I feel like I'm
starting from the ground up. There've been nights that I've
cried into my fur bunk, only to have the tears freeze on my
face. I'm not the only weeper. I know Sandra cries at night,
because I can hear her, and there's another sniffler that doesn't
admit it by the light of day. Some of us take things differently
—Harlow's rather angry about the situation. Sandra just
laughs. A lot. Charlotte's been lost in her own thoughts, but I
can't blame her.
And Maria? Well, Maria hides.
Or she tries to, anyhow. But she goes missing a lot and then
everyone goes on a hunt to find her somewhere on the ship. It
worries the others because Hanphin and Theodora—the experts
on the dragon island itself—fear that she's going to get into
something that could harm her. I'm trying to take Maria
under my wing to give her courage. At night, we're bunking
together to share body heat, and I try to keep her at my side
and hold her hand so she knows she's not alone.
I kind of wish someone was there to hold my hand and tell me
that I'm not alone, but if I can't receive, I guess I'll give.
"They're bringing it down," someone says, and Maria's grip
tightens on my hand. We stand at the edge of a big snowy
field, waiting to be called forward. The ship is far in the
distance, and there's so much noise and thunder coming from
ahead that it makes me nervous. I wish I was back on the ship,
but it's been explained to me that if I don't get the core, I'll
die. There's something in the air here that's toxic to humans.
The core works symbiotically, modifying its host so they can
both stay alive.
And while I'm not keen on a core, I'm pretty keen on
being alive. So here I am.
"Someone just jabbed a spear into it," Harlow says, and next to
her, a girl named Raven makes a grossed-out noise. Sandra
sneezes.
"What's it look like?" I ask, since I can't see anything but
blobs moving around at the edges of my vision. "The Korr-thgtar?"
"Ugly," says Harlow. "Kinda like if Godzilla and a Llama
mated and had a hairy baby with too many eyes."
Rather makes me glad I can't see it, then. To me, it just looks
like a moving blob chased by a lot of smaller colourful blobs. Kind
of like how Nessa's pet Cat, Chompy, looks like a skinnier-limbed camel with too much hair and far too many teeth.
"Stay with me, May," Maria whispers and holds my hand
tighter.
"Of course," I tell her reassuringly. I know she's scared. I'm
scared, too. There's been a lot of scares lately, and every day
seems like a struggle to get past it.
"Do you think…" Harlow begins and then stops.
"What?" I prompt. "Do I think what?"
She stomps her furry boots, shaking the snow from them. "I
dunno. Do you think we're going to, you know? What do they
call it? Reverberate?"
"Resonate," Maria corrects shyly.
"That's it. You think that will happen?" Harlow looks to me.
"I don't know. For me, I hope not," I tell them.
Because the core, the symbiotic parasite that will give us
electric-coloured eyes, a built-in space heater and super-charged
immunity also has a catch. It likes pairing up people and
making babies. Seems that the core will pick out a "mate"
for its person and you start "resonating" or vibrating from your
chest. Someone else vibrates to you and that's it. Boom. You
now get to make children together and that's that. I've been
told that it's impossible to deny and that the core always
seems to pick correctly. Everyone here has resonated happily,
including Theodora and Zoe, both to dragon guys.
Also, it seems to be not an "if" but a "when," to hear the
others talk. Which worries me. I'm still thinking about my
own survival, not about starting a family or settling down with
a dragon-like man.
I decide an optimistic tactic is best. "Let's just take it one step
at a time. Core first. We'll worry about resonating later."
"I've never even had a boyfriend," Harlow says thoughtfully,
ignoring my cheery advice. "Kinda neat that a core's gonna
find the perfect guy for me."
"Unless he's not a great guy," Maria chimes in. "What if he's
scary? Like the beast guy?"
I shudder at the thought. Jeez, Maria finally decides to speak
up and she's Debbie Downer. "Let's not go there."
The "beast guy" is one of the four males that were in pods,
along with the sixteen girls. Two of them were the bright red,
fond-of-being-naked twins. One was a big golden guy who has
a shock of golden hair that was so stiff it stood up like a ruff.
He's even got horns, someone said, though I can't make them
out. And then there's the beast guy. He's darker. And scary. And
scarred. And the least human-looking with his hulking
shoulders and hunched form. I haven't peered too closely. He
snarls at everyone and has big fangs and claws and red eyes,
and that's enough for me to stay the fuck away.
They keep him tied up and under guard.
But Harlow doesn't seem upset at the thought. She glances over
at the cluster of people a short distance away. "I feel sorry for
the beast guy," she admits. "I bet he's scared like us. He just
doesn't know how to handle it."
"Mm." I'm not sure I agree. I find his rage unsettling, and I
know I'm not the only one. No matter how friendly some of
these dragons are, they're not people like us. That much is
evident from the tails and the horns, right down to some of the
language choices. Zoe calls her husband her "mate" and their
children "kits." They eat their meat raw and it seems they have
a healer who does the whole "laying on hands" thing back in
their village. To these people, Summer is a person (I've been
told she's nice) and not a season. I'm not even sure they have
seasons other than cold and colder.
Every day that passes, the "un-reality" of our situation seems
to grow.
"Come," a voice yells out, and I recognize that of the chief's,
Kyros. He's the big blue guy all the others follow. "Come
forward and receive your korrs."
"That's us," Harlow says breathlessly. "Shall we go?"
I hesitate because there's no turning back once we get this
core thing. It'll let us live here, but it'll also change us
forever. What if I resonate with one of the fierce, angry-seeming
strangers here? The only one who seems at ease with the
situation is the big gold guy, but even he seems intimidating. I
just don't know.
Then again, I'd like to see.
And be warm.
And, you know, not die.
Damn it. "Let's get this over with, I guess."
"Here, take my sleeve," Harlow offers. "Watch your step. The
snow's churned up around here."
I hold on to her and Maria holds on to me and we form a
human chain, along with the other humans marching forward.
One of the big red guys has an arm around pregnant Charlotte,
and I feel a twinge that I didn't help her out. I should have
thought of her. I'm glad someone did. Off to the side, three of
the big coloured guys are half-dragging the beast guy, who's tied
up with ropes, and snarling, still fighting against them as if his
life depends on it.
For a moment, I want to do the same. I feel out of control,
pushed in one direction after another by fate. I don't blame
him for fighting and snarling and trying to break free. But
Maria's squeezing my hand tight, and Harlow's leading me
forward, and off in the distance, I know the others are waiting.
I know they're doing their best to help us out.
So I go. I don't have a choice, in the end.