Rafe gave a harsh, barking laugh—a sound with no humor in it at all.
“It wouldn’t matter if someone was kind enough to take us directly to the ship and put us in it,” he said dryly. “Because we are never getting home, Whitney. Never.”
“What? How can you say that?” She put a hand to her throat, feeling panic trying to choke her. “How can you take such a fatalistic view? I thought you wanted to escape as much as I do!”
“Of course I want to,” Rafe said harshly. “But if we escape, we’ll only be running from one danger to another. We’re trillions of light years from any point in space the Kindred have charted. I didn’t see a single landmark I recognized in the star charts I studied and there are no stable worm holes either.”
“But…the worm hole that brought us here—” she began.
“Is what you humans call a ‘crapshoot’,” Rafe interrupted her harshly. “The chances that it would even take us back to anywhere near the Mother Ship are a trillion to one.”
He had told her as much before, but somehow hearing him say the words again felt like a stone against her heart.
“So what are you saying?” she demanded. “That there’s no hope—none at all?”
“Not of getting back to the Mother Ship and Earth,” Rafe said grimly. “The universe is vast and ever expanding. You must resign yourself to the fact that in all probability, we will never see home again.”
Whitney lifted her chin, her eyes flashing.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a girl who just resigns myself to things.”
He shrugged. “You can do as you please. It won’t change the facts of our situation.”
Whitney poked a finger at him. “It seems to me that you’re letting the ‘facts’ of our situation make you give up. What happened to the warrior who wanted to escape and get out of these damned cages? You’re a grown-ass man—don’t tell me you’ve decided you want to stay here and be babied by Mama Tusker all your life!”
Rafe looked away.
“I still want to leave but I do not see a way to do so. And as I said, getting away from here would only mean trading one danger for another.”
“You sound like Yancy and Yarrow and Dood,” Whitney accused him. “Deciding it’s better to stay here and live in bondage because it’s safer.”
“Well, it is!” Rafe roared, surprising her with his sudden anger. “It is safer here, Whitney! Though it would kill me to have you taken from me—that I could not bear. If you would just agree to resume our mock mating when that damn Tusker comes to check in on us—”
“No.” Whitney put up a hand to stop him. “I’m not agreeing to anything right now,” she told him. “I just…I need to think. Let me think.”
He threw up his hands. “Do what you like but don’t think too long. If she tries to take you again, I do not know if I can stop her, though I will give the last drop of blood in my veins to try.”
Whitney understood what he was saying. If they didn’t put on an act for Mama Tusker and she decided to try and take Whitney away and put her in another cage, Rafe would fight—quite possibly until he died—to keep her. And given that the monstrous alien was hundreds of times bigger and stronger than they were, his death was more than a possibility—it was a foregone conclusion.
He’s saying he’ll die to keep me, she thought shakily. Even though he doesn’t want to care for me. I don’t understand this—any of it.
“It’s too hard to explain.” Rafe looked suddenly tired—weary beyond words.
He turned without saying another thing and went to the other side of the cage, leaving Whitney staring after him, wondering what in the hell she was going to do.
Thirty-Two
She woke up the next morning and barely made it to the bathroom corner before she was horribly, miserably sick. Bright orange pieces of the bland, woody alien carrot, which had been supper the night before, pooled in a steaming mess at her feet before she covered them over with grass.
Wiping her mouth shakily, Whitney went to the water bottle and took a drink and washed her face. She felt strange inside—a feeling which persisted even though her stomach was now perfectly empty. Was she getting some kind of a flu? That was all she needed right now.
She put her hands to her temples and rubbed, feeling a pounding headache coming on as she reviewed her conversation with Rafe from the day before. So, the star charts revealed that they were irrevocably lost, they were stuck in a cage and were about to be separated, and there was no way home. Also Rafe loved her and hated the fact that he cared for her at the same time, which was, in itself, almost more confusing than anything else. What a horrible, horrible mess.
What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
The thought had been whirling around her head, pecking at her like a bad-tempered bird for days. Now it came home to roost, driving its beak mercilessly into her skull, no matter how hard she rubbed her temples.
Trying to push it away, Whitney wandered to the other side of the cage and sat by the bars. She was glad it was too early for Mama Tusker to bring them breakfast—she wasn’t up to another scene like the one they’d had yesterday.
Maybe Rafe is right, she thought, feeling sick. Maybe we should just pretend to mate and stay here the rest of our days, living the lives of pampered pets. Maybe all the dangers waiting out there in the uncharted universe are so much worse that this is the best we can hope for.
“Hello, Whitney.”
The soft voice made her look up and she saw Yancy standing on the other side of the bars, speaking to her.
“Oh, hello,” she said dully. “How are you, Yancy?”
“Better now,” the other girl said quietly. “Much better than I was, anyway.”
“You are?” Whitney made an effort to perk up and forced a smile for the other girl’s sake. After all, Yancy was the closest thing she had to a girlfriend in this horrible place and it was important to support your friends. “I noticed you’d been kind of quiet lately,” she said.
“I was…worried.” Yancy sighed. “But I’m better now—now that our future is secure.” She stepped away from the bars so that Whitney could see her more fully. At first she didn’t understand what she was seeing, but then the gentle but obvious curve of Yancy’s abdomen began to make sense.
“You…you’re pregnant?” she asked blankly, looking from the other girl’s gravid belly to her strangely peaceful face.
Yancy nodded. “I am. And I know how it must seem to you,” she added quickly. “But it was the only way Yarrow and I could stay together—the only way Mama Tusker wouldn’t sell us.”
“But…but you…but he’s your brother,” Whitney couldn’t help exclaiming. “I mean, I understood the first time—the tweedle weed and the way it makes you feel but—”
“It was the only way.” Yancy cupped her belly defensively. “We were desperate to stay together. And anyway, I think I’m only carrying two this time—two cubs, I mean. Maybe…” She bit her lip. “Maybe it will be easier to let them go since there are fewer of them. I’m going to try not to get too attached this time.”
Whitney didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t imagine giving up her own babies to be sold. But then again, she couldn’t imagine getting those babies the way Yancy had. It was too awful to contemplate.
If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all, she heard her Grannie Washington telling her when she was younger. It was old advice, but still good, even on an alien planet, Whitney found. So she simply nodded and said nothing.
“I noticed that you’ve been quiet yourself lately,” Yancy said, stepping close to the bars to hide her belly again. “And I noticed…” She cleared her throat. “Noticed that you and Rafe haven’t been talking much. Forgive me for asking but…did something happen at the Tweedle Beautiful show?”
“You could say that,” Whitney said blandly. “We’ve had kind of a fight and we can’t seem to get over it.” Not that the big Kindred was even trying t
o get over it, she thought resentfully. “Anyway, we’re going through kind of a rough patch right now,” she finished, not wanting to give too much away. Yancy might be a friend but Whitney didn’t like to start airing her dirty laundry in public.
Besides, the situation with Rafe was really hard to explain—even to herself.
“I hope you are able to mend the breach so that you can stay together,” Yancy said. “But you shouldn’t let the litter feelings cause a permanent rift between you.”
Whitney frowned. “Uh, litter feelings? What do you mean?”
Yancy’s brow furrowed. “Well, I mean the feelings that come over any female when she is heavy with cubs. Haven’t you ever had a litter before? It makes you half-crazy sometimes—first you want to laugh, then you feel like crying. Sometimes the world looks so dark you can barely see any light around you at all.” She sighed. “That’s how I’ve been feeling these past few days. But I am better now.”
Pregnancy hormones, Whitney thought, feeling sick. She’s talking about pregnancy hormones!
“I assure you,” she told Yancy, “That I am not having litter feelings. But it’s sweet of you to ask,” she added, realizing the tweedle girl had only been trying to be nice.
“Oh.” Yancy’s forehead furrowed. “Dood told us that Mama Tusker gave you and Beauty both the special food at the show and that Rafe bred you afterwards. And since the food accelerates the growth of a litter, I thought…”
“Wait—what?” Whitney stared at her. “It what?”
“The special food accelerates the growth of a litter,” Yancy repeated patiently. “You only have to look at Beauty to see it.”
She motioned through the bars of her cage to the one beside her where the little blonde tweedle was in sight. By looking through the bars of both cages, Whitney was able to see that Beauty, too, had a rounded abdomen. In fact, hers was even more pronounced than Yancy’s was. She must be carrying more “cubs” in her “litter.”
“Damn,” she muttered. “I…I had no idea the, uh, special food did that.”
Yancy nodded. “It does. And since I heard you being sick this morning when you woke up, I thought maybe…”
“Oh my God!” Whitney jumped up, putting one hand to her belly and the other to her head. She had never been pregnant before but now she remembered how miserable both her sisters had been during their first few months of pregnancy. Morning sickness had dogged them both until about the second trimester and then it had finally settled down.
“I…I can’t be,” she muttered to herself. “No way. No way in hell.”
But once the awful idea crept into her head, it simply wouldn’t leave.
“I have to go,” she blurted to Yancy although where she was going, she didn’t know. There was nowhere to run from her awful predicament—nowhere to hide.
And that was bad, because she now had some thing big to hide—for as long as she could, anyway. She didn’t want either Rafe or Mama Tusker to know she might be pregnant. She didn’t want the big Kindred to feel obligated in any way—this baby was hers—well, if she was having one, that was. And she didn’t want the giant alien to know and start taking offers for her baby on e-Bay—or the Tusker equivalent of it.
That’s it, Whitney thought to herself as she paced around the back of the cage, head down, trying to think. That’s it—I’m getting out of here. And I’m doing it before I start to show.
There was no way in hell she was going to stay in this damn cage on this horrible planet and let her baby be sold. And the minute she started getting a big belly, Mama Tusker would no doubt be watching her like a hawk, since she was so “exotic” and “valuable.”
“I’m getting out of here and I’m going home,” Whitney muttered to herself. “I don’t care how hard it is—I’m going!”
But how?
“Do not fear, daughter,” whispered a voice in her head. “What you need to do will be made clear. And once you have found your freedom, the way will be opened for you—this I promise.”
Whitney looked around, startled. She had heard the voice once before and now, as then, she found herself comforted. But who was it and where was it coming from?
“I am the Goddess—the Mother of All Life,” the voice spoke again, answering her question. “I watch over all my children—no matter how far away they are or how misguided they may be.”
These last words sounded rather severe but somehow Whitney didn’t feel they applied to her. Was the Goddess angry at Rafe for some reason?
“Do not worry about that—I will deal with your warrior in time, daughter,” the Goddess assured her. “For now, you must leave this place as quickly as may be.”
“I want to,” Whitney said in a low, intense voice. “But how am I supposed to get out?”
“The answer is right in front of you,” the Goddess whispered in her ear. And then the warm feminine presence which had filled the air around her faded and was gone.
“Right in front of me?” Whitney asked, frowning. “I don’t understand.”
But just then she heard thundering footsteps on the ramp leading down into the lower area of the Tuskers’ house. Looking up, she saw little Zhu-zhu standing right in front of her cage, and in her hand she held a doll.
Thirty-Three
Rafe sat with his head in his hands, wondering what he was going to do. Whitney hated him now and he didn’t blame her. He couldn’t explain to her how the past had warped him—how vulnerable loving her made him feel. Seven Hells, he could barely explain it to himself! And when he even thought of trying to tell her, the words got all tangled and sounded wrong in his mind.
How can I keep her safe if she won’t even pretend we are mating? How can I protect her the next time she is threatened? I have no weapons and my strength is worth nothing here. There is no way out of here—no way home.
“There is a way, warrior—if you will but take it.” The strong, feminine voice startled him so much, Rafe fell off the gray plastic log he was sitting on.
“What…who…?” He looked around wildly but couldn’t see anyone near.
“It is I, the Goddess—the Mother of All Life,” the voice informed him. “I have come to say that you must do as Whitney tells you. All who follow her lead will be saved. Those who do not, will be left to their fate.”
Then the voice and the presence was gone. Rafe felt stunned—as though some long-held belief had been suddenly shattered. As though his life had been turned upside down in an instant.
Follow Whitney? What did that mean? Follow her where?
And then he heard her voice, singing high and sweet and clear, filling the air around him.
But he wasn’t the one she was singing to.
“Hello, Lovely—I came to bring you breakfast. Mama said I could.” Zhu-zhu grinned at her as she began pushing slices of some blue alien fruit through the bars of all the tweedles’ cages. “She said two for each tweedle. So here you go!”
As she pushed the fruit through the bars of the cage, Whitney leaned over and grasped one huge, chubby finger in both her hands.
“Zhu-zhu, Zhu-zhu, Zhu-zhu,” she sang sweetly.
“Oh!” The alien child’s eyes grew wide. “That sounded exactly like my name!”
“Zhu-zhu, Zhu-zhu, I know your name! Zhu-zhu, Zhu-zhu, let’s play a game!” Whitney sang, making sure she was using the Tusker language, not English.
Zhu-zhu’s eyes got even wider.
“Oh no! The Speaking Disease! You’ve got the Speaking Disease!”
Thinking quickly, Whitney sang, “No, no, I don’t. Because singing isn’t saying. Singing is just playing!”
“Oh…” Zhu-zhu took a moment to think this over. It seemed to make sense to her because she nodded. “Okay,” she said at last. “Then sing some more.”
“Let’s play a game, now that I know your name,” Whitney sang.
Zhu-zhu nodded excitedly. “I would love to play a game!” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Mama went out for the morni
ng and Papa is still snoring in bed. So you can even come out of your cage, if you want.”
Whitney’s heart leapt but she knew she had to keep her head. This was the chance she and Rafe had been waiting for and they might not ever get another one.
She nodded and sang, “Of course I want to play! I want to play all day! But I’ll be blue, unless he can come too.”
She nodded at Rafe, who had come to stand silently beside her. She was a little surprised that he wasn’t trying to pull her back or shield her from the inquisitive alien child, but she was determined to keep going and hoped he would play along.
Zhu-zhu got an uncertain look on her lumpish face.
“Uh, him too? I’m not sure about that, Lovely.”
Whitney mimed crying and sang,
“But I’ll cry all day, unless he can come and play!”
“Well…” Zhu-zhu seemed to consider it, then she nodded. “You know what? I just got a brand-new toy hover cycle for my dolly.” She held up the doll she’d tucked under her arm while she pushed food into the cages. “Would you like a ride in it? Both of you?”
Whitney nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, yes, yes! And can I wear your dolly’s dress?”
Which was a rhyme she’d made up on the spot, but it would be nice to have clothes on again.
“Sure you can!” Zhu-zhu took a minute to strip it off the doll and push it through the bars of the cage. “I’ll be right back!” she promised, and thundered up the ramp, presumably to get the toy vehicle they were going to take a ride in.
The minute she was gone, Whitney turned to Rafe.
“I don’t want to hear a word,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “I’m going and if you’re smart, you’ll come with me. This might be our last chance.”
“I’m with you,” he said simply, nodding. “You’ll get no argument from me.”
“I won’t?” She looked at him, so surprised for a moment she couldn’t think what to say next. She’d been prepared to argue in order to get him to go and now he was just agreeing. Whitney wasn’t sure what to make of it.
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