Chapter 6

There's a racket at the door, and Clover sounds off in alarm with her crazy barking. She wheels around my legs and I try not to trip on my journey to answer it. There is no doubt whatsoever. I know it's my mom. I can hear the metal clicking against the door. She likes to wear at least one mood ring and a faux diamond on her right hand. It's just part of what makes mom…mom.

I know we had discussed it, and now she's here, but I'm already swallowing back the bitter taste in my mouth, my heart a distant but hurried beating in my ears. Kahlo is sitting on the sofa, leaning back into the cushions. He is slouching, trying not to appear quite so big and has a pile of pillows around his hips. His large two toed feet are splayed out around my small coffee table. Considering his size, he looks comfortable.

My only concern is how my mom will react when she sees him. To my knowledge, she has never met an alien before, and I know a lot of people are afraid of sangheili specifically. Many families have had history with the human-covenant war and had passed on their fear and prejudices against covenant races, and most seemed to recall a strong sangheili presence, which is unsurprising considering they were the first race to fall under the sway of the 'prophet's' manipulations.

Kahlo's people were and still are strong and capable. The whole war was one giant misunderstanding that became a desperate struggle between races that didn't see a bigger picture.

Hopefully mom is more open to understanding him than judging him for something he had no part in. I know she's going to have a hard enough time understanding me. I suck in a deep breath and Kahlo's dark eyes meet mine for a moment before I turn to answer the door.

The moment I do my mutt dog comes running past me to jump mom's legs. She loves mom, she was her 'dog mommy' first.

"Girl!" Mom cries out, joyous enthusiasm, her arms spread out to receive the dog, "How are you and Lacey doing?" Clover launches herself into mom's arms and I watch with a half-smile as mom receives wet dog kisses under her chin.

Mom's hair is pressed up into a tidy bun, not a hair out of place. She's always worn her hair like this, and she once told me it was a habit from working at the hotel because all employees had to abide a strict dress code.

Our hair color is different, hers brown, mine black, but we share the same blue eyes, although hers are not quite as dark. The lines around her eyes crease when she laughs as Clover snags a quick lick at her ear.

She looks like she's in a good mood. Hopefully that doesn't stagnate quickly.

I smile with my teeth, wiping my sweaty palms across my jeans. I probably look as fake as I feel. I don't plan on muddying up the truth. I'm praying this all goes well, but my mom isn't always easy to read. I'm not sure how she's going to react to the alien in the living room, or about the truth of this whole situation. Especially the keeping secrets from her part…

"Hi mom. You're earlier than I expected."

Mom straightens up after fluffing up Clover's ears, the dog padding away with a happy snort, "Better late than never. Believe it or not, there was traffic." Mom looks at me, as if noticing something on my face, "What's wrong?"

Well, there it is. "Nothing is wrong. I just have something to tell you." My voice cracks and I can see her arc an eyebrow up in response, her lips pursing.

Mom stares, "You're not pregnant are you?" She's staring at my stomach of course, looking for any evidence of the non-fact.
My cheeks flush and I self-consciously cross my arms over my belly. "No. Of course not."

Mom grins at my flustered look, I can see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes, "Ok, ok. Just save it for marriage. A babe is a big responsibility. Just make sure the guys not some kind of slop."

Mom would know best, being a single mom. She did raise me by herself. Dad just didn't want to stick around I guess. Maybe that's why I find it so hard to date. Just expecting something just as disappointing to happen with any guy. I don't want that, and any kids I have eventually, will deserve better.

"Ok, mom." I take a deep breath. "I have to tell you about someone important."

"So there is a man?" Mom frowns looking a bit concerned, and then she quirked her lips into an easy smile. Her eyes move over my shoulder, her chin tilted. She surprises me by taking a step, still searching with her gaze, "Is he here?" I'm surprised at how hopeful her voice is.

"No!" I practically yell, and I clear my throat as mom looks at me, blinking in surprise, "No." I say again softly, "Something happened at work, and I have someone staying with me for a while. His name is Kahlo."
"What happened?" Concern. Better get this over with.

"I'll tell you." I say, "But first I need you to meet Kahlo."

"Kahlo?" Mom smiled, "Is he from an island nation? I swear I've heard a similar name before. It sounds exotic." She gave me a playful look, her lips grinning. She looks eager to chat me up with some mom and daughter bonding thing, meeting the 'exotic' specimen of a man I have hiding in my apartment.

She just has no idea how 'exotic' he really is.

I sigh, because what can you feel is positively going to happen in this situation, "Follow me, and promise you won't freak out." I'm pleading in my tone, and mom notices.

Now she's frowning, her eyebrows cinched, "What's going on Lacey?"

A voice cuts through the air and I'm already tense as I begin to turn to regard him. My mom makes a noise like a splutter, her breath catching in her throat.

"You must be Lacey's mother. It is a great honor to meet you. I am Kahlo 'Modem, your daughter's guardian."

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"Dammit Lacey, you just couldn't come clean over the phone, could you?"

I could have foreseen this, mom does like to overreact to everything. Admittedly, this is no minor issue, but still…I saw it coming.

"Mom." I raise both hands to my front, as if trying to placate a wild animal, except this one won't bite it will just scream at me a lot, which is just as bad, probably, "This situation is handled. It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" Mom's voice is pitchy with her hysteria. "You are apparently being targeted by a crime syndicate, were actually hospitalized, and have been hosting an alien in the apartment, and you didn't think to even once tell me about it?"

That is fair. I can't believe I spouted the hospital bit…

"Listen—."

Kahlo merely watches from his position against the doorway as we continue arguing, one of his long legs resting idly against the shoe rack. He doesn't offer anything in the way of speech, which I'm glad for at the moment. Mom can only take so much at a time, and I've thrown a full plate at her.

A few more minutes before Mom suddenly pulls me into a hug. I expected it eventually. Moms a hugger. Which sure beats everything else at this point.

"He can't stay here." Mom whispers in my ear, loud enough that I flinch, because I know Kahlo has good hearing.

"Mom, he needs to be here. He was assigned to me…by the government." How many times do I have to play the government card? Seriously?

She pulls back and frowns at me, concern etched in the lines at the corners of her eyes. "They couldn't get a human?" I cringe as I hear Kahlo sigh.

"Seriously Mom, listen to yourself." Human or alien, it's still racism and I can't believe she would say something like this with Kahlo still in the room. He's not stupid and he's not an animal. I'm angry, for the right reason, and I'm not afraid to argue about it with her.

I'm a journalist for crying out loud, I'm used to arguing my points.

Mom purses her lips. She looks conflicted as she spins a ring around her finger distractedly. "Lacey, I'm just afraid for you. You don't understand how serious this is."

"Seriously? Mom, I think I understand." My voice is loud, but I don't care. I'm tired of arguing with her about this. "I've been freaking out about this for a while. Kahlo is keeping me safe, he's been protecting me since the beginning, and you talk about him like he isn't even here."

She looks stunned and I close my mouth. I've never seen this expression before, maybe I came out too strong? I have no regrets though, I know I'm right and I know mom is better than this.

"I'm sorry." Her face falls, she gives me a regretful look and then her eyes move past me. "Kahlo, is it? I apologize if I've offended you. I just get upset sometimes and my senses leave me." She sighs deeply, "It was wrong."

He steps away from the wall and regards her with a slightly dipped posture. "It's fine, I understand your concern. I promise I will not let my guard down around your daughter."

Mom's head dips in understanding, and I see something like appreciation in her quick smile, though she also looks a little wounded, tired maybe. I feel bad again, because I did withhold the truth, which is just as bad as outright lying.

"Mom." I suck in a quick breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to worry."

She turns to smile at me, her eyes looking sad. "Honey, it's my job to worry about you. I just wish you told me about this earlier, I could have helped." I sincerely doubt that, at least when it comes to protecting me from the forces of evil. I don't want mom getting into trouble, this is my problem, and I don't want her getting hurt or trying to sacrifice herself for me like parent's do in dramas.

"I'll be fine." I insist, because I feel more okay now than I did when this whole thing first started. Kahlo's not just a guardian, he has also become a friend. I enjoy his company and I can say with certainty, I trust him with my life.

Mom pulls me into a hug. I sigh as I rest my head on her shoulder and bury my nose into her hair. She smells like apples, and I close my eyes, remembering a long ago memory when we made an apple pie together. I hadn't realized how much I missed her.

We part a moment later and Mom is smiling at both me and Kahlo now, "So, where am I bunking?"

What?

00oo00oo00oo00

For the hundredth time, we're arguing. Well, I'm arguing, and Mom is just going on her merry way.

She and Kahlo are setting up a place downstairs for her. To sleep.

This definitely isn't going the way I wanted.

"Mom, you have a job. You can't just move in with me." I complain, and it is complaining. My voice is stretched by my complaint, breaking, and I'm not getting anywhere. I can see it in her expression as she looks back at me, cushions in her arms. Kahlo is busy hauling extra blankets from upstairs.

"I called in my vacation time." Mom said simply, disregarding the pained look I know is on my face as she continues placing cushions on the sofa. "I expected to stay with you for more than a day. Lacey, I flew out here. Do you know how expensive it is to fly?" Hah, gifted ticket my foot.

I don't want her living here with me, I'm certain she's going to insist on staying longer now that she knows what's going on. I'm not a child, I don't need looking after. I already have Kahlo, and now he's going to have to guard me and Mom.

"I'm…I'll be right back." I head for the kitchen. I can't talk to her anymore, or be in the same room. I'm just so annoyed right now. I love her, I have missed her, but I hate the feeling of being suffocated.

I'm not a child, yet she still insists on treating me like one. She always coddles me, and I appreciate that she cares but I don't need coddling. How is Kahlo supposed to do his job with her…interfering?

I pull a glass from the cabinet above the sink and turn on the faucet. I sit down at the kitchen table and hug the glass between my hands. I take a long drink after a moment, letting the water sit on my tongue before swallowing.

The window of the kitchen is dark, and I can see a white glare off the glass from the street lights beyond my yard. There is also that peaceful cricket sound I always here.

Well, there usually is. I still for a moment, sitting the water glass down carefully. I don't hear them tonight. Usually there are sounds of locust and crickets singing, but it's a sleepy sort of quiet. Their sounds are absent…I can only hear Mom faintly asking Kahlo a question in the other room.

I hear clicking though as Clover taps into the kitchen. I feel her long tail thump against my leg and her nose rest against my thigh.

Then I hear a growl.

"What is it girl?" I scoot the chair back a little and look down at her. I can see the white standing out at the corner of her eyes. She rolls her eyes at me for a moment, showing her teeth again, slicking a long pink tongue over it once before whining.

Something isn't right, I can just feel it. There's this tremor in my chest, and going up and down my spine. This shiver of unease. Clover is growling again, this time she's looking to the window.

I feel a stab of fear as I twist around to look towards the window. I can just imagine someone staring at me on the other side. I feel even more vulnerable in my sleeve-less top and sleeping shorts and I hug myself as a chill starts in my spine. My eyes go the window.

But there's nothing there. I stand up carefully, still peering at the dark glass as I walk around the table and closer to the entryway. Clover continues growling, and I know there has to be a reason for it. She never shows aggression like this, fear like this.

I want to call for Kahlo, but I'm afraid to make a sound. It really is that quiet in here, and I don't want to break the silence, because then I will stand out in the emptiness.

I don't want the monsters to find me.

You're just imagining things. Maybe Clover is just hearing a raccoon. We had an incident once with our trash…

I'm not sure. I feel creeped out anyway, so I move to leave the kitchen.

There's a loud smashing sound and I spin around just to see the glass from the window shatter against the counter. An object spins as it smacks against the kitchen table. The water glass jumps off the table from the impact and sends glass in wet shatters across the linoleum.

I'm already screaming in shock, and I can already hear everyone else reacting in the other room to the sound of the glass breaking.

"Are you ok-?" Mom walks in looking concerned. Kahlo is not far behind.

Suddenly there's a sound like a sizzling and I see the object that had been tossed into the window beginning to smoke. It starts out as a few puffs, and then smoke hisses out in torrents.

It's happening so quickly. I can smell a sickly sour scent, almost sweet as it sticks to my face. I can feel the hot hiss of the smoke as it wraps around my body.

I can also suddenly feel my feet leaving the ground and my body thrown over something thick but warm.

I'm out of the kitchen and in the laundry room before I realize that Kahlo has tossed both me and my Mom over his shoulder.

He carefully but swiftly releases us, sitting us on our feet. I'm a bit dizzy from whatever was in the smoke, and a little delirious. This can't actually be happening. I didn't expect it to. These past few days everything has been fine.

Why is this happening to me?

I take a seat on the floor because I can't find stability standing as the ground seems to spin under my feet. I also feel a little like laughing and I'm not sure why.

I think I'm going insane. I could cry, but instead I'm just sitting on the floor and letting Mom hold me. I can feel her stroke my face gently, and I hear her whisper in my ear, but I can't make sense of the words. I can feel a tear tickle my nose and I smile at the sensation.

I could vomit. Nothing feels right.

Kahlo begins to close the door, I can see his legs in the doorway though his form is muddy to my vison. What is wrong with my eyes?

"Stay here, do not leave this room." His voice is assertive, commanding. I can see his own eyes gleaming in the low light. "I will deal with this intruder. No matter what happens, stay here."

I obey, only because no matter what happens, it's all out of my power.

I'm fading away fast, into a sleep that's making my limbs feel heavy, and my eyelids heavier. I gasp out something, a sound like regret and joy mixed together. I can hear Mom crying out a prayer into my ear as she holds me close.

I fade into yet another darkness, incoherent, and I'm dreaming somehow. Of apple trees and Kahlo's beautiful sword. He is holding it up to the sun, and it's a heavenly sort of light. He proceeds to cut an apple free from a branch, and somehow the branches are reaching out for us. It rolls into my lap perfectly and I hold it up to my face.

It's perfect and vibrant with not a blemish. Everything here is so saturated, glowing. I look to Kahlo and I see his alien skin under the light, and I see he's in full armor. There's something beautiful about the way his armor glows in the sun. He looks like some sort of alien angel. There's this halo of light that wraps around him, around the both of us.

It smells like home. It feels like home. I'm tired, a sleepy kind of tired, and I lean back against him as I take a bite of the fruit. He's warm and I let him fold his arms over my body as I feel my breath quiet, and the bit of apple slip down my throat and disappear like the rest of me.

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Kahlo

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Lacey is not like any human I have ever met. She is not afraid of me, but she seems afraid for me. I had hurt myself by my own error, and she had shown concern. Lacey had been bleeding, but at that moment, she had not noticed her own hurt, but that of my own.

It is flattering but also strange. Sangheili haven't always taken to medicine so easily. In the old ways, it was considered shameful to bleed in company, but now we understand that it is a foolish notion.

Life is what is sacred, what must be protected.

She had worried over me like some mother. If she had known of my injuries as a child, I think she would be shocked. It is our way to test our abilities at a young age. We mature fast in body and in mind. We choose to measure both with equal capacity.

In 'Modem keep, on the edge of the Gracian Sea, we still hold onto old traditions, while trying to bring back forgotten memories of a time when sangheili were self-dependent.

I fought with my brothers and sisters in the great garden courtyard of our home. The keep stretched around in many rings, keeping us safe at the center. I received bruises and scars from my siblings and of those from neighboring keeps. There was pain, aching, but we fought through these, and we paced ourselves.

We tested our strengths and pit our cunning against one another, but we also sought to become one body, one force to keep our family safe. We were proud to stand together.

Haduvee 'Modem was a great-great grandfather of mine, and many of my siblings. Some keeps, like ours, had decided to allow younglings to know their fathers. The war had brought so much darkness over our people, and at least this should be made clear. Others were adamantly oblivious but I am glad to know my family truly.

On the eve of the end of the war, we share stories of old, of the destruction of our ways and the rebirth of the sangheili.

The most told story was of Haduvee and his awareness of his guilt. It was meant to express that the sangheili were misled and in doing so, had almost been destroyed as a people utterly. There was much philosophy in the keeps near the Gracian Sea, as we were born from strategists and monks of the old religion. We forced ourselves to understand the destruction we had wrought against humanity and put ourselves in their place, as we had suffered our own losses, though not to quite a degree.

It was often believed to have been worse, being inspired and given meaning to life, only to find misdirected faith. Humanity had lost many billions, but much of the sangheili confessed they had lost their soul. Their sense of being, their reason for existing. In being a part of the covenant, of something bigger, they had felt more in control of their destiny than ever before.

But that had changed with the end of the war, with the relinquishment of truth.

Haduvee's story reminded us that we had almost lost everything, that we had been used as tools of destruction and in seeking faith, we had been blindsided by betrayal.

"We are surely cursed." Haduvee had said. "I should die, die with them. They are lost to me, and I have lost everything."

"No, you won't die. You have not lost." My great elder mother was said to have responded calmly, revealing her stability, and her womanly wisdom. Women were often proud of speaking with their husbands, being his confident. It was a high compliment to be referred to as 'honored' wife or mother, and she was the wisest and most honorable in all our stories. "You will live, for me, and for your family. If you die now, you will die a coward, and unredeemed." She had told him.

"I cannot live in a world without faith, without meaning. This war has taken so much from me, from our people. We were united by our beliefs, and now we have nothing but bodies broken by a war no one could hope to win." His voice is bitter in the story, voiced by the story teller, or mother. Good stories are told with emotion. Lacey tells wonderful stories, she has the storyteller's voice.

The great elder mother had bared her mandibles, fangs glinting in the soft lantern light. "On your feet Haduvee." She had said strongly, "I will not have you shame yourself. You are not a hatchling."

At this point in the story, there was laughter from the little ones, but only a somber silence from my older siblings and cousins. We knew how the story ended. How Haduvee and his strong loving wife had tried as one of the first keeps to open positive connections with humanity.

There had been a short but deadly civil war, and a coward's virus, a bomb, had been unleashed upon the keeps around the Gracian Sea. Modem, Kuren, and Gafan were affected. This disease was brutal in chemistry and intent. It was a crippling disease that bent the legs of the young and destroyed the lungs of the adults. Many sangheili mothers had to weep as their children were killed in front of them, by the virus and by merciful relatives who could not stand idle while their young screamed for the pain to stop.

Sangheili fighting sangheili. Others had wanted to destroy us, the human sympathizers, and were angry at the fact that we had begun sending supplies to colonies as a sign of good will to humanity. It had taken the Arbiter and his famous Swords to stand up for our keeps, to stop the fighting and save the remnant of our people and those of our neighbors.

Today we tell these stories with the hopes of learning from our mistakes and understanding that the right thing isn't always easy to do.

Humanity had sent agents of peace after the virus was purged and our people were healing. They had shown us the same goodwill we had given before, and together, we healed one another.

Lacey did not understand my pain, she did not understand that it is not in my way to be a coward, to disregard my keep's philosophy. We were raised to hate Haduvee, though he had brought change, it was the great elder mother, Lateen, who directed him, who was the symbol of order and redemption. He had felt great loss from the war but had participated in it, had taken many thousands of lives. It was his wife who picked him up off the ground and reminded him of the true way.

I left my world with the sole intent of representing my people's good intent towards humanity. Now we are active in trade with one another, and Modem has seen great wealth and prosperity. It only proves that we are stronger together. In being here, I bring honor to my keep.

The agency that I work with planned on placing me with a security order on a senate member of a local council who had received death threats, but instead I found myself walking into a room with Agent Clint and a tiny human female.

I had recognized her instantly, and it had taken me a moment to realize she had been the woman attacked by the kig-yar extremist. I knew she too remembered me, as I could see it in the widening of her eyes.

We have very similar facial expression, although the mouth parts react differently than human mouths to emotion, but we can still read the soul, that much we do have in common.

Her dark eyes, some kind of blue, like a night sky on water, were full of fear. She trembled and I could smell her perspiring lightly under her thin clothes.

I wanted nothing more, in that instant, to protect her from any force in the universe. She reminded me strongly of one of my sisters. She was small, like a child in its middle years and her voice was distinctly female. It was an almost instinctive reaction to her small fragile appearance.

She needed a guardian, and I was more than willing to take up the mantle. I knew it would be the honorable thing to do, and I had never had the opportunity to work so closely with a human female before.

Lacey was not what I expected. She was not afraid of me, as I thought she might be. Even some human males react to my presence with anxiety, but she hadn't.

She is openly curious about my ways, about my history, and doesn't mind sharing her table and her home with me.

My first job was with a business man whose heart had failed him at the second year of my guardianship. He had made many foreign governments angry with his dealings and had sought protection from any assassination attempts on his person. There had been nine, but I had dealt with them all easily.

It was a position of honor and well paid, but the man had not offered to share his space with me, instead seemed to enjoy ordering me around, and made me order my own food and eat in the spare room, alone. I did not particularly enjoy the company of such a man, but I did feel lonely for a while, wishing I could communicate easily with one of my brothers or sisters. Such a long reaching device does not send messages quickly, and it was a stagnant wait.

I had hoped to have new experiences on this world, but all I had felt was collared to habits that were forced upon me by the ungrateful man I was assigned to. He rarely talked to me but to order me around.

To say I was upset at his passing, would be a lie, a shameful lie, but an undeniable fact.

Lacey was a breath of Spring. We have been together for many days and I can't say I don't enjoy her company. I have learned so much about her, and I have enjoyed our time together. I can say I don't feel ready to leave.

The idea makes me uncomfortable. I don't know how Lacey has been living alone for so long. She is a small woman and a little clumsy. I had panicked when she had slipped down the stairs earlier and hadn't been willing to release her from my arms.

Now I regret letting her leave the room.

I hear a sound like glass cracking and a piercing scream. Lacey's mother rushes ahead of me and I curse under my breath as she beats me to the kitchen. I cannot be expected to protect anyone when they run into danger, but like a mother, she is only showing concern for her daughter.

The daughter I am meant to protect. Why had I left her alone? Had I grown too comfortable at rest these past few days? I'm a fool.

Someone had thrown what appeared to be a smoke bomb through the glass of the window. It had already been affecting Lacey as I held her in my arms. I could see it coming over her eyes, like a fog. There was more than smoke in that object, and I prayed that it wasn't a virus. I could feel my hearts shudder at the vision that idea awakened. I thought back to dying children, of the virus that had almost destroyed my home totally, and I imagined Lacey contorting under me, blood frothing from her mouth, the life misting from her eyes.

I could not fail. I will not.

I race out of the room with Lacey and her mother thrown about my shoulder, more worried about getting them out of that room than worrying about anyone's comfort.

It has finally happened. At attack on Lacey's life, and I am terrified.

Something is wrong with her. Her expressions are muddled, confused, she seems almost unaware of where she is. As I rest her on her feet in the back room, she cannot keep her legs straight. She trembles and she slips to the ground, she makes a strange sound, one that fills me with dread.

Is she doing to die? I don't know what to do, but one thing is certain. He is still out there, and I have to find him. Him, her, them, whoever has done this, I will cleave out their organs. Even now I can feel my blade in my grip, the heat of the pommel as the plasma shoots up the end and completes the twin points.

I move to the front door with urgency in my steps. If they run, I will not desist, I will follow. I will make them wish they had never come to this home, and I will cut the truth from their tongues and ensure that Lacey has no enemies alive to harm her.

I will not fail. That is one regret I cannot live with.

Okay, quick note, I changed a few things in chapter 5. This story is about 200 years after the covenant war, I mistakenly referred to Haduvee as Kahlo's father, but he is actually a great-great-great, something, so I fixed that. Sorry for any confusion. :D

Hope you guys enjoyed. Sorry it took so long to get out.