Unnatural Instinct: Amazon

20.

I'm not sure if I did the right thing on telling you everything.

No. I know for sure it was the wrong thing.

You've sworn to me that you will not tell anyone about the truth of who I am and where I come from but that won't be enough. I've told you things you shouldn't know, and that knowledge will now potentially send your civilisation on a new trajectory. You may not directly speak the truth to the others but it will still affect your actions. It will affect your thoughts and judgements. You and your people will not evolve naturally. You will not evolve the way you should. I've thrown a spanner in the works, and now nobody can predict what's going to happen.

I will have to explain myself to my peers. My research partner is going to kill me. Our investors will withdraw from the project. And I will have to leave this place—and you. There will be questions as to whether we should continue projects like this at all. On any world. My very job, my joy, could be in the balance.

I've just ruined everything. For me. For you.

'You are glum,' you say, your heavy footsteps crunching through the ground litter as you walk. Your hand brushes against mine. 'Have no fear. I will support you when we go before the elders.'

Though I appreciate it, it gives me little comfort.

My body is aching and my head continues to throb as I hold up my/your pants. Already, I can hear the noises of the camp in the distance. It feels like the return journey has taken no time at all. Before I know it, the hair stands up on the back of my neck as all eyes turn my way.

Only moments later and we're standing before the camp elders as you explain what happened.

The elders gaze at us both in silence. Several women have gathered around to listen and they murmur to each other in shocked and angry whispers. Several others rush away to find the woman's body.

'He killed her?' one of them hisses.

'Grippla was one of our best warriors,' the fat woman speaks. Her forehead furrows. 'And now she's gone, and all because of him.' She glares at me and I can't help but drop my eyes, shifting awkwardly.

'She was a rapist and a killer,' you say, lifting your chin. 'She got what she deserved.'

The four elders look at each other. The blind woman shakes her head. 'It is his own fault that he got himself in danger. He should not have left the camp. He should have made better choices.'

The bald woman nods and adds, 'He has just as much responsibility in this mess—more so. Everyone knows Grippla has a big appetite, and he was flaunting himself. He was leading her on ...'

'I never led her on!' I snap.

You rest a hand on my shoulder as I tremble with rage. My ears are burning. I can't believe what I'm hearing.

'He doesn't even wear a rapa,' the fat elder says, dropping her eyes to my pants. She rakes her gaze up my body. 'He's young and beautiful and virile. What did he expect? Girls will be girls.'

You squeeze my shoulder in warning before I lose control altogether. I don't think I've ever been so angry in all my life. I'm clenching my fists so hard that my nails are biting into my palms. The blood is roaring in my ears. My heart is galloping. The women around me notice. Even through my anger, I can sense their wariness. They shift their grips on their spears.

You stand in front of me, so I no longer have to suffer the elders' humiliating looks. My rage deflates to a throbbing anger as I gaze at your naked back, at the broadness of your shoulders, at the feminine curve of your hips. Your arse is so Goddamn round and perfect. I fight a sudden, overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around your waist and bury my face into your back.

'Things need to change,' you say.

Silence follows.

You look around the camp as you raise your voice so the rest of your people can hear. 'Things need to change! We change, we evolve, or we die. The men of our tribe have just as much right to respect as we do. They are just as important as we are. For without them, we are nothing. They are smart and brave and fierce. They are much more than what we've made them. Look what he did to Grippla!'

Your words seem to ring around the otherwise silent camp. You turn to look at me, then take my hand with a grim smile.

First there are whispers, then murmuring, then angry muttering. It doesn't take long before the camp suddenly rouses into something chaotic. I squeeze your hand and bunch close to your side as the women start shouting angrily. Some are so enraged their faces are red and saliva coats their lips. The men are little better as they hiss and shriek their contempt.

Not a surprising reaction. Earth women were ostracised, beaten, raped and murdered for demanding their rights. But still, it's astonishing. History books cannot fully communicate the real thing. Not only does it surprise and anger me—but frightens me. These women, even the men, could kill me.

They could kill you.

It doesn't faze you. Still holding my hand, you walk through the camp with your chin held high. And, of course, I have to do the same, though I'm comparatively less dignified as I struggle to hold up my pants.

Your hand is warm in mine and it's almost as though I'm imbibing your strength through my skin. My body tingles. My head buzzes. The camp doesn't seem to feel real.

You head for your hut and we enter together. We're in the middle of it all. I can still hear the women shouting. Something thuds against a wall. A woman snarls something through the window—and yet, I feel safe. I feel safe with you as we sit together, side by side, waiting out the drama.

We don't speak, we don't need to, our hands firmly locked together. I see the bulging, ropey veins in your forearms, just as I see them in mine. Your thigh feels so hot pressed up against mine, even through my pants. Your jaw is hard and your eyes are bright.

Together, we are strong. Together, we can face anything.