The cargo bay door slammed open. Khan stormed inside, sand robes flying, one hand clenched painfully onto Marla's upper arm. He pulled her after him, barely restraining himself from throwing her as he let go sharply and turned to shove the door closed.
When he faced Marla again, he seemed to tower over her as he stalked forward. Her body swayed backwards almost instinctively, as a mouse might flinch from an approaching storm. He stopped and looked down on her, his breath hot on her face. "What did you think you were doing out there?!" he hissed.
"What was I…?! What about you?! That man was ready to collapse!" Marla retorted, trying not to get any angrier than she already was. "He was going to drop down dead in the dirt, and you ordered him to keep working!"
His eyes narrowed at her as he answered disparagingly, "You should have exercised more perception. I did not order him; I allowed him to."
"Allowed him?" Marla cried, "Allowed him?!" Exasperated, she paced away from Khan, marching towards the wall.
His brown eyes followed her as intently as a peregrine falcon's. "Yes. He is an Augment, Marla." Addressing her by name often was an exercise he had imposed upon himself. At first, it was simply humiliating. Now, it was both humiliating and…strengthening, as if he was training his limited patience to perfection. "If I had not allowed him to continue, he would have done so anyway."
"Oh," Marla crossed her arms and whirled around, dropping hard against the wall with a low thump until she was leaning against it, booted feet crossed and somehow adding an allure to her stance. "So, Augments kill themselves, and people just let them do it?"
"He will not die. Ishad is far too intelligent for that. He has friends as well, friends who can persuade him to stop where I would have more difficulty in doing so."
Marla's frowned, trying to understand what sounded unnecessarily complicated. "You knew he wouldn't listen to you…so you let him go out there because you think his friends can stop him?"
"And you," he completely ignored her, pointing a gloved finger in her direction, his other fist planted on his hip in that familiarly arrogant, dictatorial attitude, "you question me in front of the others, whining and snapping like some disgruntled pigeon! Like some pet I have given too much liberty!"
Marla's blue eyes flashed. Her tone was as cold as ice when she responded, "but I'm not your pet."
"No," his voice was strange, his brown eyes burning as he looked at her suddenly; it made her guts clench uneasily. "Of course not."
Before she even knew what was happening, his hands had crashed into the wall at either side of her head, trapping her there. His face loomed towards hers, already turning slightly, ready for the sign of affection that had only just become meaningful for her again.
"No, Khan!" she whispered harshly, forcing down feeling of claustrophobic terror as she turned her face away sharply, her mouth brushing the bare skin of his brown arm. At this rejection, he froze. She felt the muscles in his arm bunch, the pure rage that was the beast within him bucking in outrage. She grit her teeth, daring to make it clear, "I don't want it."
We had a deal. A promise. I don't want it. Not now. Not like this.
Khan's brown eyes became fixed as he stared at her ear, his mind far away. It had been stupid to charge her like this, stupid and impulsive. He saw it very clearly now; his brutal side was tired of following rules she had constructed. His brutal side was seeking to reassert his authority over Marla by coercing her into a kiss.
And now his pride, an even greater monster than his temper, wouldn't let him back off. Yet his conscience, his honor…his heart…wouldn't let him continue. He stared without seeing, fighting through a mental battle that not only puzzled but infuriated him, because it was all centered around the powerless, frail wisp of a woman that was trapped in his arms like a flower pressed between cinder blocks.
A vein in Marla's neck trembled. She blinked hard, summoning something…perhaps courage to resist him. He suddenly felt slightly ashamed of his actions. Her hands clenched into fists, but then she opened her blue eyes and turned her head, red hair pulling at the rivets in the wall. She returned his intense stare squarely. "Khan," she said softly, "you promised. I don't want to fight you…I want to fight this problem, together."
Problem?…ah, yes! Ishad. Orders. Leadership. He straightened, his hands dropping limply to his sides. He felt strangely empty…almost burnt out, as if by denying his primitive desire for dominance and self-gratification, he had lost something. He wondered if there was anything in 'true love' that could replace it.
"It does not, in the end, matter whether I am right or wrong. I am Khan Noonien Singh, the sworn leader of the Augments of Ceti Alpha VI. My wife, no matter how beautiful, no matter how equal…" he sneered the last word a little; after all, she had been going on and on about that earlier, "she must not question me in front of them. You tried to tear down their respect for me, Marla."
"That's not what I meant to do," Marla defended herself, counting by twos to make sure her rapid, shallow breathing slowed down as she grew calmer.
He did that superior smile, that small pull of the lip that both infuriated and amused her. She fondly called it his princely smirk. The sheik's thick lashes hooded his brown eyes, casting an almost hypnotic indigo shade over them. "I know. I would have been far, far angrier otherwise."
"But I can't just let you do the wrong thing and say nothing!" She said, looking at him with more urgency then anger, trying futilely to ignore the charismatic, attractive aura he was suddenly filling the air with, "You have to let me talk with you about these things! Help me understand or let me try and help you!"
The smile dropped off his face; he turned pensive. "I will be honest. I do not believe you can teach me about leadership. This is not something I need learn from you, of all people. It is unnecessary."
"It's part of true love," Marla replied quietly.
Irritation and anger flashed in his eyes. Then, an even stranger look took over. Weariness. He dropped his head, nearly brushing her nose with his scalp. "This is too much, too fast." He looked up again, and the beginnings of true rebellion glimmered darkly in his face. "This is not worth it."
Marla reached forward and spread her hand over his warm cheek. He looked surprised by the gesture, but only gazed at her questioningly. She wanted so badly to reassure him, to teach him. She saw that he wasn't trying to please himself now. He really, truly did not understand. She smiled brightly, warmly at him, her voice almost a whisper, "it is, Khan…in the end, it really is. Believe me."
He smiled, something in him turned on by her changed attitude; something in his heart lightened by her words. He brushed his thumb along her lip. "It had better be worth it, my wife."
Marla made a face, "well, that depends." With a quick, hard twist, she slipped out of his grasp and rushed back a few steps, "you probably won't like what I have to say."
He turned quickly, grinning now. His brown eyes sparkled playfully, "that will hardly prevent you from saying it." He leapt for her, intending to grab her and show his suddenly reblossoming love to the fullest. Marla squealed and dove towards the door, laughing hysterically as she managed to get it open just before he snatched her sand-coat.
Too excited to care, she yanked out of it and sped outside. Khan almost laughed himself as he threw the coat away heedlessly and gave chase.
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The tiny storage compartment was wrapped in a thick, murmuring blanket of wind lifted sand that once in a while seemed to tear itself on the outside edge of the cargo bay and rip into a wailing scream of sound.
Marla had been through so many sandstorms that the sudden noises didn't bother her anymore, nor the oppressive atmosphere of the same room of oxygen gradually getting thinner and thinner, or the dim light that made her eyes hurt as she moved about in the black shadows, feeling for things as she cleaned up after dinner. The only light came from a battered emergency lantern, a rectangular grate of metal with a heart of glowing orange, almost like a fire except that it didn't flicker.
Khan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book lying limp in his hands. It would be hard for anyone to read in that light, even for an Augment. Marla could see by the way he was staring fixedly at the light that he was trying to be listless without showing it. She wondered what thoughts ran through his head at times like these, when the planet itself seemed to conspire against Khan, to trap him, hold him down so he couldn't work anymore…so he'd have to think.
Marla knew how terrifying thought could be. When her tasks were over, she was tortured by worry, regret, false hopes…she wondered if any of the other Augments suffered the same. She couldn't remember seeing one who wasn't busy, either with work or family. She never saw one sitting, alone somewhere. The few that actually had just disappeared, wandered off to die in the desert. She believed they had gone mad.
And no, she didn't want Khan to go mad. A strong mind might hold out longer than others did against the inexorable tug of surrender and insanity, but it only meant the eventual collapse would be all the harder.
Marla dusted her hands off and carefully hung the rag on a hook. Then she came forward towards the fire and gently, slowly knelt behind Khan.
Her fingers touched his strong, thick shoulders, smoothing over the curves, pushing steadily, soothingly.
Startled, Khan stiffened and half turned around. It was an interesting feeling as everything she was touching suddenly turned rock hard, pushing her hands up as the muscles contracted. She smiled reassuringly at him as he gave her a dark, questioning glance from the corner of his eye.
After a second's hesitation, he gave her the smallest of smiles back.
Then he turned to the light again, his eyes traveling gradually downward to look at Joachim, who was curled up next to the heat-source like some puppy. The boy was exhausted from an earlier bout of rough play with Khan…Marla knew it had taken place because she heard the squealing and the hollow bang sounds as bone joints hit the metal floor of the cargo bay.
She tried often now to give Khan and Joachim more time alone together, because it was only when he was alone with his little son that Khan seemed to believe he could actually be a real human being without somehow destroying himself.
Marla sighed at the thought, but her arms kept moving back and forth as she massaged her husband's shoulders. Khan was obviously enjoying it, but he was strangely silent. A small smile snaked its way up her mouth as she realized why; he didn't know how to thank her…or if he even should.
It was ridiculous. Since that…episode…in the desert, Khan was always either threatening to snap her spine in two or treading on eggshells around her.
Well, she knew how to bring life back into the air around them. She raised her left hand and slowly ran her fingers down through his long black hair. And quickly met a rat's nest.
Khan gave a hiss at the sudden change from a pleasant massage to a sharp tug at his scalp. "Marla!" he scolded, a little louder than he needed to.
"Oh, shut up!" Marla snapped back playfully, not letting him finish, "it's your fault anyway. Your hair is almost longer than mine, and you don't take care of it at all! It's like a ratty old woman's hair!"
"It is not!" Khan must not have realized how childish he sounded. He didn't turn around only because Marla's fingers were still entangled in his hair. "Both men and women have shared this style since creation! It is only more common for men to cut it because they have far more important things on their minds than being beautiful."
"Good. Because you're not." Marla felt a patch of rough, bumpy scar tissue on his scalp. Her fingers delicately brushed over it, relieved to not find any heat there that would signify an infection. "In fact, you're quite hideous."
"That does it!" Khan's long arm snaked around her waist, surprising her. Marla shrieked aloud as he pulled her around him in one swift motion until she was lying in his lap, the book awkwardly poking into her shoulders.
Khan leaned over her, his dark eyes reflecting the fire as he smiled devilishly at her. Marla laughed, and then received his kiss.
There was no force here, no stolen sign of affection. Khan had learned that a kiss was a gift from both parties, melded together to create a single act of love. It had been hard and strange for him…especially as time went on and a new spark began to fire up their relationship. Marla grew brighter, happier, almost coquettish at times…and so very, very captivating. But as he got used to it, he realized this apparent restraint of affection only strengthened their union, binding them closer together then they had ever been before. And it brought him joy.
When they separated, Marla rolled off him and sat up a little bit to the side, facing him but not cutting off the light. Khan was about to toss the book to the side and finish what he'd started, but she pointed to it. "What are you reading?"
"Oh," he reluctantly glanced at the thing, so small and insignificant in the dark, "Moby Dick. A nautical tale by the Earth author, Herman Melville."
"Hmm. I read the shortened version of that…it was a requirement in high school, but I couldn't stomach the entire book so I winged it." She could tell Khan didn't know what 'winged' meant, but he was too prideful to ask. So she wouldn't tell him. "Ahab scared the heck out of me…he's so deranged and completely obsessed with killing…"
Khan interrupted her, his voice carrying that self-assured smugness, that princely air that she had learned to hate. He sounded like he was teaching someone who was very stupid. "With good reason, my dove. The white whale took his leg, leaving him half a man. He was maimed for life. No woman could look at him…he could not look at himself. What more fitting way for him to end his life than in destroying the enemy that crippled him?"
Marla's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "You did NOT just sanction Captain Ahab."
Raising one eyebrow, a completely serious Khan gave her a look that plainly said; yes I did and are you alright?
Marla wanted to laugh until she cried. After all this time, Khan could still stupefy, sadden, and surprise her with his off the wall, twisted view of life.
It was then that she resolved to share far more things with him then pleasure. They began to read his books together and discuss them. Well, more like argue for days over each and every chapter. He found her ideas radically different, somewhat inferior, and irritatingly stubborn...but they intrigued him. She knew on which subjects he would gradually surrender to her and on which he simply would not budge. She knew when to stop pushing a point on which he was not yet ready to surrender, and how to graciously accept it when he did. And in return, he gave her a greater favor than he had ever given anyone, even his old friend, Joachim.
He listened to her.
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Marla felt like she was choking on the burning sand. Every breath seemed like she was swallowing it into her lungs. Khan's hand was holding onto her wrist so tightly that it hurt as he ran with her, dragging her along the bottom of the canyon as the sides of it seemed to turn into dust water that was flowing down the high cliffs on either side, rapidly flooding the ground, threatening to drown them. Except they could walk on this water…a little.
Ironically, the clouds of dust kicked up by the massive movement of miles of sand actually shaded them from the bronze sun in the red metal sky. Khan pulled her with the silent, tight movement of a warrior, completely in control, ready to fight the world with his massive strength. She felt safe.
And a little unsteady, she reflected. Khan was doing all the running. He was going so fast that all she could do was leap on high and hope her feet hit the ground straight so she could leap again, like a sand skier behind a motorboat, with utterly no balance and no breath. Luckily, even Khan could not speed his way through the ever-shifting dust. Their progress was irregular, halted, interspersed with bursts of speed as they found a patch of relatively stable ground.
Khan veered sharply to the side, trudging up the building piles of sand, legs hitting the ground only to sink under the surface until he was buried up to his knees. Marla lost what little momentum she had already had, and fell face first.
Without a word, Khan turned, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Then, with a queer struggling motion as the sand rose even higher, forcing him to crawl on all fours, he reached the stable wall of rock that lined either side of the canyon.
He slung her off, grabbing at her shoulders to steady her. "Climb!"
Right. Climb. Marla stubbornly ignored the fact that she had never climbed a tree in her life, let alone a sharply vertical cliff about a hundred feet high. She swallowed down the bile that had risen quickly to her gasping throat and reached forward to grab the rocks.
At the exact same instant, Khan seized her around the waist and boosted her up. In mute panic that he was going to drop her, her hands shot out and attached themselves to the rock with the strength of a giant squid's suckers. Her booted feet dislodged crumbling stone as they created their own footholds by kicking into the natural shelves lining the surface.
She wasn't quite sure how, but Khan suddenly appeared above her. His orange suit showered her with dust as he moved, but thankfully it was only once. With an awe-inspiring agility, he swung back to her, looking down, face lined with anxiety. He reached a hand down to her. It hovered in mid air like an agitated bird as he anxiously ascertained whether she could do it herself or not.
It would be more preferable that she climb by herself. It would render her more self-reliant and confident should anything happen. However, the rumbling vibrations from the very rocks they were clinging to reminded him that speed was, at the moment, more important.
His gloved hand tightened on the rocky surface, his bare one grabbing at her arm, hauling her up bodily to the next foothold. He saw pain in her face and was sorry for it…but there was also trust in her eyes, a willingness to follow him. For that, he would do anything to save her.
She tried to help all she could, but it was awkward and difficult as well as painful. Sometimes, she couldn't get a good hold because of his grip on her, thus putting more weight on him as they painfully inched their way higher.
Khan pulled, teeth gritting, sand getting in his mouth as he released Marla for a precious second and rolled bodily over the sharp rim of a rocky ledge. His patched up orange work suit scraped over the edge with the satisfying sound of tearing fabric. A flap hung down, exposing a triangular space of his brown leg, and underneath there was blood.
He barely noticed, however, as he leaned over and extended his right hand to the struggling redhead below him. She looked like a leaf; barely holding on, as if the howling gusts that whistled through the flooding canyon would tear her off and bear her way. The cloud of sand was rising; any moment it would swallow her up, burying her alive.
"Hurry!" he cried, "Give me your hand!"
Marla looked up at him helplessly, squinting against the sand, her teeth showing as she tried to breathe through something other than her nose, where the sand just poured in with no way of pouring out. For a minute he thought she was frozen, that she wouldn't move.
Then, after an agonizing few seconds, she did. She crawled up, her arms shaking so badly that Khan, in spite of himself, was scared. He leaned farther, his boots scraping at the sandy floor of the ledge, searching desperately for the tiniest hold on which to anchor his massive frame along with her added weight.
This familiar position…no, no thoughts! Not about that…he must do, not think.
Marla finally made it high enough. There was terror in her blue eyes as she reached out her hand for his, fingers spread out wide, trembling as she haphazardly lunged…and slipped. Khan smothered any sound of panic that tried to force its way out of his throat. Marla gasped and then, steeling her nerves, tried again.
His gloved hand grabbed hers. It held. He pulled. In order to come over the rim, Marla was forced to let go of the cliff entirely, her legs dangling in the air as she weakly grabbed his wrist with her other hand.
Raw nerves burned and pain wreathed its way up his arms at the sudden pressure. Khan's mouth tightened into a thin line, the widening of his brown eyes the only sign of discomfort. It was nothing compared to the horrible, suffocating weight of panic that slammed into his chest as he realized…she was slipping.
His traitorous hand couldn't do it. Like stretched cords that were snapping, tendons gave way, fingers cramping, numb, unable to lift. Marla felt it, but could do nothing. She could only look at him with sudden, helpless panic.
No. Khan was not going to lose her. "Marla!"
Her eyes flashed with newfound hope at his tone, and it caught in Khan's throat, because he didn't know what to do, or how he could save her. At least, not in time. The cloud of sand, writhing like a sea of nightmares, was a mere stone's throw below them, rising almost as fast as a man could walk.
Suddenly, a sunbeam broke through the misty sky above them, casting a vicious yellow sword of light straight into Marla's face. Her eyes fluttered in distress and she ducked her head. Then, almost instantly, she looked up again and gestured wildly. "Toss me!"
"What?!" Khan bellowed in shock, somehow making himself heard over the storm, "woman, are you insane?"
Marla gave him a withering glare, but knew better than to waste what precious little time remained to them. "There!" her finger stabbed the air as she pointed a little off to the left of the ledge, "a cave!"
Khan did not question her; he knew it was their only chance. His hand was weak…but his arm was strong. He felt it roll in his shoulder socket as he swung his arm back and forth, once, twice. Marla kicked forward impulsively, increasing the swing. Khan ignored the pain. His face was tense, brown eyes burning at her as he watched her precious form move out, away from the safety of the wall, into the cloud of suffocating dust, then forward. He threw all his strength into pushing…and she let go.
The sudden feeling of relief, of emptiness, of freedom, felt like a ton of ice in the bottom of his gut. He sat up and rushed to the other end of the ledge. Ignoring the throbbing of his arm and the numb pain in his hand, he slung himself over feet first. His left hand snapped shut on the rocky edge and he hung there by one arm for a minute, identifying the cave Marla had spoken of. Then, he easily swung himself inside.
At the same instant, the stone ledge gave way and fell with a boom that nearly shook Khan to his knees. He heard Marla shriek. The boulder dislodged a shower of sand from above, and the mouth of the cave was suddenly covered by a hissing, rasping, never ending curtain of sand.
Author's Notes: Again, I want to thank my few devoted readers who are actually taking the time to not only read but also comment on this little oddity...may you live long and prosper! :)