FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter One: Followed

When her name was called, Mel arose from her metal folding chair and walked between her fellow robe-garbed students to the platform that had been set up on one long side of the football field. The stands behind her were full of proud parents, siblings and other relatives of the graduates. Her lone fan, Mr. Montgomery, clapped and cheered as she went across the stage to accept her diploma. While shaking hands with the faculty, she gave her counselor, Mr. Hendricks, a special hand squeeze which he returned. Smiling, Melanie accepted her rolled pretend paper and gracefully exited the stage as another student began shaking hands behind her. She had already picked up her real diploma, printed in elaborate black letters, signed by the president of the college and encased in a blue vinyl flip-open case. She imagined it framed in ebony and hanging in her office someday.

But that day was far off. She had only completed her Bachelors and needed to go on and complete a Master's degree before she could apply to become a Social Worker. Still, this marked an important milestone which the older-than-she-looked woman hoped would open many doors for her. She would continue to need to work to support herself as she continued her studies. Perhaps a four-year degree would allow her to get a better paying job. At least, that is what Melanie planned for her future.

She returned to her seat and joined the rest of the class in flipping her mortarboard tassel to the other side and then, after detaching the tassel as a souvenir, gladly threw the less-than-attractive thing into the air along with everyone else. Clapping and cheering surrounded her as she and her classmates took turns hugging and then went to find their families.

Mr. Montgomery gave her a hearty handshake and hug before proclaiming that he was going to take her out to dinner. "Well that is so sweet of you!" she responded before seeing a small woman quietly looking at her from a few feet away. The style of frizzy hair pulled back into a bun was unmistakable. "Mom?" Mel felt her throat catch and tears welled up in her eyes. "Mom!"

Her mother gave a quivering smile before they melded into each other, arms in the intense embrace that only long lost daughters can share with the woman who bore them. "Mom," blubbered Mel, "I can't believe you're here!"

"I've had enough of not seeing you, no matter what your Dad says," she explained in a slightly warbling aged voice.

"Is Dad here?" Mel looked around half expecting to see his thin, yet strongly built form.

"No honey, he wouldn't come. And he's madder than a hatter that I came!" she voiced with merriment. "And you know 'bout your granddad, don't you?"

"I do Mom, Mr. Montgomery told me."

"Well, yore Mr. Montgomery called and let me know you was graduatin'. I'm so very grateful to him. He's a real Christian gentleman, he is!"

"He is!" Mel affirmed.

"So I'm taking ALL of us to dinner!" Mr. Montgomery interrupted with a huge smile on his face. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time! I hope you two don't mind, but this is like having a family again!"

"I am your family, Mr. Montgomery. I always will be." Mel announced, taking her mother by the arm to assist her to the car. She shooed her daughter's assistance away.

"Now, honey. I may be older, but I'm still as fit as a fiddle! The Lord has seen fit to keep me well all these years."

Inside the old car, Mel and her mother chatted away as their benefactor carefully drove to the diner downtown. "It's so good ta see you, honey. Tell me what you've been doing since you left home. Did ya have that…baby?" The woman tried to stay cheerful as she brought up the subject that had driven them apart.

"I did Mom, and I raised her. She's in school now."

"You had a girl? What's her name? Tell me about her." The old woman seemed pleased to have a granddaughter.

"Uh, her name is Signý." She debated about how much to tell about the alien planet and the life her child had there. "She's…she's just beautiful Mom. I know you'd love her. She's very athletic, and I think she wants to be a doctor when she grows up."

Mel's mother beamed upon hearing just what she wanted to hear – a beautiful story that left out anything dealing with the idea of aliens. "Sig-knee – that's a strange name – not sure I said it right. So she's a tomboy just like you were!" The newly christened grandmother went on exclaiming how wonderful it would be to have a doctor in the family. Mel just smiled, nodded her head occasionally and listened, thinking how great it was to be with her mother again and in wonderment at how the woman she'd not seen in decades could still pull her chain within fifteen minutes of being with her.

As she listened to her mother's diatribe, Melanie laughed inside, grateful for the first time to acknowledge her human failings. She may be kinda nuts, but she's my mom and I love her! Warmth encased Mel's heart and spread within like a balm to begin healing all that she had suffered.

Up above the street, a blur ran along the rooftops of the town's buildings, jumping from one to the next without effort to keep pace with the vehicle below. The blur had been watching them since the graduation ceremony began. It had scaled the back of the stadium seating and stood on the edge of the narrow wall that secured those in the top seats from falling to the lot below. No one noticed the area of visual distortion. It made no noise and went back down the wall when the ceremony was ended.

Matriarch Sally turned the morsel of Naxa fruit over with her fork, examining all the juicy cells of goodness that clustered around the core and could be squeezed to deliver their delightful nectar into her glass. Naxa was good, delicious even, but as part of a daily diet it could become unsatisfying. She closed her eyes and dreamt of blushed red, crispy apples - just picked apples that dribbled juice from the corners of your mouth when you bit into them. Apples that could be sliced then dosed with sugar and cinnamon and baked into a pie. A still-warm pie with gently browned crust flaking as you cut a piece and placed it on your plate. The filling holding somewhat together, but letting sugary juice drip onto the plate from the mountain of apples that had somehow been tucked under the bulging center-high crust. An oven-warm slice of pie that someone's grandmother had lovingly baked in her quaint yellow kitchen. A pie composed of a flakey, tender symphony of crust and apples that sang out to be accompanied by a slice of well-aged cheddar or a generous scoop of cinnamon ice cream.

Her dessert fantasy decomposed when an Aseigan came into the room, interrupting to see if there was anything more she needed. Her taste buds unsatisfied, she gave up the toyed with fruit. Eyeing the amount uneaten, the servant dutifully recorded it and sent the report to Myn'dill. Unknown to Sally, what and how much she consumed was always logged for the dutiful Healer who was charged with her health.

He had been watching her level of consumption fall for nearly a moon of cycles now. She still ate some of the differing types of meat, but the servings of fruit and nuts were often untouched. With time and observation, Myn'dill had determined that she was not ill, but merely tired of the unvarying Yautja diet. He contacted her via the com.

"It is Myn'dill," he announced. "Would you enjoy some native Blue Planet fruits to eat?"

"Oh would I ever!" she answered. "Have you been reading my mind?"

The Healer hesitated, "I do not understand."

"Oh, never mind Myn-dill. Just an expression. I would greatly enjoy some fruit from the Blue Planet! Do you have some?"

"No."

Sally's taste buds sulked at his reply. Hearing nothing back from her, he continued, "A ship will be sent there as soon as you order. Would you create a list so that what you want may be obtained? It might also be helpful to mark on a map where that fruit might be grown."

"No problem, Myn-dill. I'll get together with Sig-dan or Theron and they will make a list. This is very thoughtful of you, Myn-dill. Thank you."

"I am honored to serve you, Matriarch." The com went silent.

Sally punched up Sig'dan's com, but found him preparing to go to the pup's Training Camp. "I am needed. The pups are going out on their first overnight into the jungle. Many Hunters are needed to watch over them and ensure their safety."

"I'm glad you will be there to help protect them. Safe travels, my love. When is your departure? I'd enjoy escorting you to the ship and seeing you off."

"We are scheduled to leave this afternoon. I will signal you when I am ready to go and meet you at the spaceport. This request was unexpected, Sal'lee. I regret that I will be away from you. Our pups are progressing quickly!"

"I understand, Sig-dan. I'll miss you too - see you at the port."

With her mate getting ready to leave, Sally next called upon Theron. She explained to him Myn'dill's request for her to obtain fruit from Earth. "Of course, Honorable Matriarch. I will come over immediately and create a list and map for you."

It didn't take long for Theron to make the list as Sally realized that she could have any fruit from its best, locally ripened source. It took a little longer to make the map as she wasn't certain where some things were grown. She had also added cashew and macadamia nuts to the order. By the time she was finished, Sally's mouth was watering at the thought of what would soon be on her table. She would share the bounty, of course, with her human and Yautja friends. But as she had learned in the past, Hunters had to be very careful when trying Earth fruit. Too much of it turned them into methane vats that tainted the air with unabashed unsavoriness. She was certain that any one of them could shame an entire herd of gaseous cows.

After the list and map were created, Theron inquired, "Sal'lee, I assume that you will want fruit procured from Earth on a regular basis. Has anyone been appointed to this mission?"

"Yes, I will want a regular run to Earth, if that is possible. The medical ships don't make the trip as often as they used to – with so many Hunters holding out for a Yautja mate in the near future."

"I would like to volunteer for this mission. My command of one Earth language will greatly assist in procuring the best items for your kitchen, Honorable Matriarch."

Sally examined the gray Hunter and raised one eyebrow. "A celebrated warrior of the Dor'an wishes to volunteer for a mission gathering dangerous Earth fruit?" She couldn't help but bait him a little.

"Yes. I am volunteering, although I doubt I will encounter much danger in procuring your fruit – unless there is something you have not told me?"

"No, I'm not hiding anything from you like the development of hybrid biting bananas…you wouldn't have an ulterior motive for going to Earth on a regular basis would you?"

"I do. Signý wishes to visit with her mother frequently and these trips will allow her to do that."

"No other reason then?" Sally worked to contain the knowledgeable smile that pulled at her lips. She did not want Theron to realize she was playing with him.

"I may check in on Mel. Just to see how she is faring." The Hunter managed to appear very casual and relaxed to Sally's questions.

"I see. Well, you are obviously very suited to the mission...with your command of English, I mean. And it would be very frugal to take Signý on one of your runs rather than making a special Earth trip just so she could visit her mother. This seems a valid plan to me. But I should consult with the High Council regarding it."

Sally had to literally bite the insides of her lips as the shark-gray Hunter's tusks fell. "The High Council must be consulted in order for me to take on a mission to obtain fruit?" His confused and disappointed reaction was more than she could bear.

"No Theron, they don't. I was teasing you," she chuckled. "I hope you do not take offense. I couldn't help it!"

"I am not offended, Sal'lee. Only relieved. I would not want to explain taking on such a mission to my High Elder. In fact I would prefer that he not know about this." Theron appeared nervous to Sally, one mandible twitched and he kept running the pad of his thumb over the talon tips of his right hand.

"You want me to mislead your High Elder?"

"Certainly not! I only wish for this mission not to be…advertised to him. Fruit trophies would be difficult to justify for a Hunter of my stature. Must the High Council know of everything you do?"

"Pretty much, I'm afraid. I'm sure that good Myn-dill will tell them that fruit is being obtained for me on Earth and transported back here. I don't intend to tell him who is collecting it and I bet he won't think to ask. He's only concerned that I've not been eating well."

"You haven't? Should we all be concerned?" The Hunter tapped his tusks together anxiously.

"Don't worry, Theron. I am just bored with the eternal Naxa. Some food from home…from my former home will do me good. The mission is yours then. And don't try too much of the fruit yourself. It can cause unwanted reactions in your digestive tract."

"I accept the mission and will perform it to the best of my ability, and I will remember your warning, Honorable Matriarch."

"Oh, uh, Theron?" she stopped his exit with a question.

"Yes?"

"Please tell Melanie 'hello' from me when you see her. Tell her that I think about her often."

"I will relay your words, Sal'lee. That is…when I see her. My first duty is to gather what is on your list." He nodded his subservience to her command, and was quickly on his way.

Don't think I've ever seen him walk that fast. Gather fruit, my ass! He's going to see her and see if she'll reconsider him. You don't fool me, Hunter! Good luck, Theron, hope you bring back a passion fruit trophy!

The cargo transport that Theron checked out at the port was an elderly ship, but was certified to perform its duty. The bulky thing had a benign appearance instead of the sleek hunting ship that the Warrior was used to. With chafed pride, he resigned himself to piloting a used knife handle through space rather than a gleaming proud blade. It would be best to maintain a very low profile while in the port. He would not wish for any other Hunters, especially anyone in his Clan, to learn that he had required use of such a bathing tub of a ship! Still, like the Aseigan, it would perform the highly necessary work that it was suited to and do it admirably.

He ensured that the ship was stocked with his provisions, as well as light reading for entertainment and some of his stock of weapons. Every ship had its own store, but he preferred his own weapons which were all custom-made with exacting, precise balance that had been crafted to his exact specifications. Each one was a work of art and each one was quite costly. It was only his hunting prowess that had financed ownership of such fine weaponry. And now, these finest pieces of Dor'an expertise would assist him in hunting down fruit. He shook his head at the thought of it, his honor rings clinked together softly as he considered the irony of his situation.

There had been no forgetting of his desire for one human female. Although she had not wanted to live on Yaut, and had rejected him twice now – he still held out a flicker of hope that she might reconsider. Thinking about her was a daily event for him with every new cycle bringing questions to mind about how she was faring on the Blue Planet. Was she healthy? Had she found the life she longed for? Did she miss her daughter? Did she ever think of him? Did she ever…long for him? He could close his eyes and still retrieve her scent from his memory, and wished he had some token of her clothing so he might not forget it.

It was true that the current group of females of his kind were maturing nicely. And another batch of them was very close to being born. He knew the truth of it though, his chance to breed a Yautja female, let alone a Dor'an female, was many, many long cycles away. The Clan's High Elders would be chosen first, followed by all the Elders and then any budding Elders and so on. He was only middle-aged. His turn for consideration was very far away. A depressing thought for any Hunter who wanted his line to continue and an especially depressing thought for his smaller Hunting tool which dangled uselessly at the thought of such poverty.

There were other options of course, but one caused callusing of a hand and the other called upon the imagination to pretend that the female scent beneath you was not fake. The third option had been denied to his Clan by its Elders. It was an option that would have never occurred to Theron had he not been appointed to translate for the Matriarch.

It was as translator that he had witnessed, and scented, the desire between Sally and Sig'dan. It was in Sally's court that he had met and been bewitched by Melanie. It was in the presence of Melanie that he had decided he would not deny himself or lie about his attraction to her.

The utility transport hummed to life and slowly lifted into the atmosphere. Once in orbit, Theron went through all the checks of the unfamiliar craft and then set the coordinate sets for the trip. It would be a longer voyage than one made in his sleek and fast Hunt transport but that would give him time to contemplate how best to approach Mel and to also plan the most efficient path to obtain Sally's fruit.

So the graceless ship sped along and the Hunter plotted. It was the warm season in the Blue Planet's northern hemisphere and Sally had spoken of a large fruit growing region that she favored on the side of the land area shaped like a fingers-together human hand. He picked out a good landing site where he would attempt to trade for the apples, peaches, grapes and plums. Yautja money was held in high regard by humans as its value was always stable when dealing back with the Hunters. And the humans still coveted Yautja tech. Some thought that if they could amass enough Yautja coinage they could eventually find the price of it.

His attention shifted to other areas of the map where he could trade for bananas, oranges, pineapples and nuts. He routed the paths to create the most efficient route and then saved the file. Finally his attention turned to locating Melanie. He realized that he was too far out to obtain the most current directory listings for the planet, so he went back to reading, eating and sleeping with a daily romp on the training deck followed by a bath. Even this most pedestrian of ships had a kehrite and a decent soaking tub.

It was in the middle of a hot steep of his well-exercised body that a proximity signal went off indicating the journey was nearing its end. Bolting from the bath, Theron dried and re-attired himself, wittily deciding that full armor would be best for dangerous fruit gathering. He grinned and clicked to himself, realizing that he would enjoy seeing the humans react to his menacing masked appearance. With that delightful end in mind, he strapped on a few extra weapons and his full brace of carnivore skulls. Their protruding fangs gleamed in the room's light showing off the health of their original owners. Theron's good mood escalated - this might even be fun!

Western Michigan was awash in the first full light of day when the spacecraft set down in a field near a pine woods. No one observed it of course, its cloaking protected it from prying human eyes, but the deer and birds knew that something odd had come down in the field. A doe and her fawn watched the large dissonance come down and cast a shadow over the grass, sedges and a multitude of Black-eyed Susan, finally causing them to disappear beneath the reflecting surface that masked the entire ship. A Red-winged Blackbird, frightened from its perch, flew into the side at an angle and bounced off. It sat in the damp grasses, shaking its head to recover and then flew off. Ready to do battle for fruit, an imposing figure of metal-clad muscle emerged and left huge footprints in the dewy grass as he traversed the way toward the village of Fruitport.

The produce at the farmers' market fragranced the air with sweet fructose perfume. It wafted on the morning breeze and provided the final trail to guide the Hunter to his goal. The vendors were finishing putting out their displays for the soon-to-arrive public when the first customer of the day stood scanning the market for any hazards before venturing close.

At one booth, a young woman placed her hand on her youthful husband's arm saying, "Jon! There's an alien coming over to our fruit!" Her husband jerked up his head from the apple crate he was emptying half-expecting to hear his wife say, "gotcha!" Instead he saw a mass of alien Hunter walking confidently through the milling vendors as they suddenly saw him and made way. Bushels of produce crashed to the ground and fruit rolled in all directions as people scrambled out of his path. Calmly he surveyed the massacre of perfectly ripe soft peaches smeared in his path and carefully stepped around them. As he passed the wasted fruit the sound of heavy inhalation could be heard as the Hunter sampled the intoxicating scent of ripe peach. His head swiveled as he took in all the scurrying people, the large masked face finally looking straight on at the only composed people in the market – young farmer Jon and his wife.

Dead-on to them he trod, as Jon's wife's hand clenched his arm ever more tightly with each step the alien took. As he came to a stop directly in front of their stand, they watched as the silvery mask looked left and right and the sound of deliberate breaths came from beneath it. A large hand anointed with talons and scales reached for an apple and turned the fruit over and over as if looking for any flaw.

Jon and his wife dared not move or even breathe as the Hunter scanned the produce through several settings within his armored faceplate. Finally, a surprisingly velvet voice spoke, "I'd like two crates of these, please. I have Yautja coin." He held out a bag tied at his waist and shook it.

It was Jon's wife who finally replied, "Yes, sir. And is there anything else you'd like today? We have peaches and pears too." To her husband she whispered, "We've hit the jackpot today. Go pick out two of the finest crates of apples for him."

Stunned Jon took a moment before he moved and did his wife's bidding. She held out a large Bartlett pear to the giant Hunter, who took it and held it up near his chin. A whoof of air resounded as he allowed air to enter via a huffing port in the mask. "My order does not request this fruit. Can you describe the taste for me? Is it comparable to an apple?"

"Not really," Jon's wife replied. "A pear is…a pear. Would you like to taste it?"

"I would." The Hunter reached to disengage his mask with all the drama he could muster. It was probable, he reasoned, that this female had never seen a Hunter's face up close before. He intended to make it an unforgettable event for her – if he could keep his mandibles straight.

First, he pulled his gas tubes, one by one from the face piece, savoring the way they hissed and steamed in the cooler Blue Planet air. With the female's eyes bulging, his huge hands nearly covered the mask face as they wobbled it from side to side to break the seal. It all loosened with a dull pop and he left the mask in place for a theatrical moment. Then very slowly, he lowered the mask from his face showing first his piercing intelligent eyes, followed by the very not human rest.

The woman and her husband stared. It was all one could really do in the face of such difference. They had observed the Hunters on television and their pictures frequented the tabloids. This very NOW moment was the first time they had been face to face with one.

The alien almost seemed to preen before them, turning his head so they could see him from every angle. At one point he ran a hand over the line of gruesome pale skulls that cascaded over his shoulder and down his chest.

Jon's wife caught her breath and tried to regain her composure. Jon's jaw slacked open a little more. They watched the alien take the pear and hold it to his face as his crabbish outer mouth opened wide. Instead of biting into the fruit, he took in air as though sipping the fragrance of it. Finally, the maw opened and the pear was taken in a single gulp, followed by chewing. Telltale runs of pear juice squished through the alien's well-spaced fangs and coursed down onto his chest plate. The chewing was followed by numerous clicks as a long tongue emerged to clean pear juice from whatever parts of his face it could reach.

"You enjoyed that?" queried Jon's wife.

"Excellent!" exclaimed the alien in his smooth voice. "Will they keep?"

"If you refrigerate them they will. You should probably refrigerate the apples too."

"Two cases of them please. I have come equipped with refrigeration."

The Hunter then tasted and purchased peaches from the same booth. Then he went around to the others, huffing and tasting until he had obtained everything on his list that could be purchased here. The other vendors had watched Jon and his wife deal with the alien and realized a good thing when they saw it. Eager to sell to him too, everyone began to talk to the Hunter as he made his rounds, nervously offering him samples of their produce.

The Hunter was entertained by the human's uneasy faces and panicky scents, but was anxious to complete his purchases and find Melanie. So,with containers full of Michigan's finest produce, the ship left for other parts of the world so that Theron could complete his shopping. Everywhere he found excellent tasting fruit that made the limited selection on Yaut pale in comparison. No wonder Sally has not been eating! I would greatly miss this feast too.

It took a full Earth day for Theron to complete his mission, but in the end both he and his cargo holds were well-stocked with fruit. Satisfied that he had accomplished his mission, he decided to spend the night in orbit and search out Melanie the next day. By his internal clock, he had put in a very long cycle and needed some time to rest.

As he climbed into his furs, he noticed that his middle felt quite bloated and rumbling sounds were beginning to come from within. Flipping open a small container, he consumed a vial of liquid that Myn'dill had provided upon his request. The Hunter had taken Sally's warning about Yautja and fruit seriously and had consulted with the Healer before leaving. Myn'dill had provided him with a remedy that had been originally acquired from the Blue Planet. Armed with knowledge and a strange clear liquid the Healer called B'ean-o, Theron had set off on his trip.

The next cycle, Theron arose early to ready himself and begin the search for his female interest. When he took her back home, Sig'dan had given Melanie a tracking device to wear so that she could be located anywhere on Earth. It would make it simpler to find her when her daughter wanted to visit. It would also benefit the gray Hunter who had begun scanning the planet below. He assumed that she would probably be living in or near the same place he had visited with her before, so he set the machine to begin searching there. Immediately it located her signal. Pleased with the result, Theron guided the ship back down to an area where he could safely seclude the cloaked ship. Then cloaking, he departed, holding a smaller version of the tracking device.

It led him into the small college town where Mel lived, but did not lead him to her house. Instead he spent the morning on a rooftop using a scope to focus into the window of a shop across the street. Inside, his female sat in a chair with another female hovering over her with several utensils. The female picked up strands of Mel's long brown hair and did things. She seemed to be removing a portion of it.

His pulse had raced at seeing the female of his desires again, but soon turned to boredom as the hair removing process went on and then a small man began to deal with the flat nails on Mel's fingers and then toes. Theron's eyes felt heavy in the weak but warm Earth sun and he found himself straining to keep his eyelids open. Finally, she left the shop, got into her car and drove to another place. Relieved to be up and moving, he followed by bounding across the rooftops as she drove down the main street. Eventually, the buildings began to thin and he had to resort to following her from the ground. She sped up and was lost to his vision but he was able to track her with his device.

She stopped at another shop and was inside for some time. Finally, she came out bearing what appeared to be a long black length of cloth inside of some clear substance. She hung it in the back of her vehicle and drove off again. This time, she went to her dwelling. The tireless Hunter climbed the side of the house as quiet as a cat and, hanging off the roof ledge by an arm, watched through her upstairs bedroom window. Feeling a little stupid at not simply appearing and letting her know he was there, he soothed his conscience by telling himself that he needed to ascertain her current status in order to know how best to approach her.

Mel stripped down to her underwear before she put on a fresh pair of slacks and top, and then slipped the long robe over it all. She spent some time at the mirror putting on a little makeup for this most special occasion. Then after dealing with a few stray hairs, she went to see if Mr. Montgomery was ready to leave.

Theron followed the car transporting the man and Melanie all the way to the stadium. He was surprised when he saw the place, it appeared to be some sort of outdoor kehrite. It was only later that the pictures of sports arenas came back to him. He had seen pictures of them during his studies of Earth.

The crowd was large and noisy and he did not fully understand the dull ceremony that was taking place. He recorded some of it for eventual study later. The ritual's closing found him once more running and leaping across the cities rooftops trying to keep Melanie's vehicle in sight. It finally stopped on the street and the occupants went into a lighted place of business below. Again, the Hunter settled down to wait until they came out. From the odors reaching him, he deduced it was an eating establishment, but what foods were being served? He huffed but could not identify them. Again, he felt unease at all this sneaking around. When was he going to approach her and what in Paya's name would he say? He hadn't been this unsure of his next move since he was a schooled pup and found it unsettling and distasteful – but not enough to call this chase to a halt. He was aware that if his gambit was successful, he would place his desires and needs over honor in the eyes of his Clan. Would the reward be worth the price?