***
Amber and Amy ripped off the name tag next door and took the suite next to Maeve's. Within a week, Maeve's hunch about more people waking up came true. Casper Bergen was next to wake, hours after the twins. Steven had hailed the girls from Maeve's suite and they'd all gathered around to watch Casper clamber out of his chamber, fall on the floor, and finally hobble up onto his feet like a baby giraffe before promptly shitting his pants.
"Oh goodness," he frowned, as the four onlookers stepped away from him. "None of you had fecal incidents?"
Amber, nose plugged, shook her head to the negative. Casper pushed the wire rims of his round glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, before fishing a notepad from his pocket along with a pen. He flipped pages of the pad, clicking his pen to write.
"Well then, the conclusion on Experiment 34," he said, licking the pen tip when no ink came out, "is that my digestive tablet failed. The vitamins and minerals were supposed to be completely assimilated by the body during the interim, rather than expelling them. What a waste."
Maeve fanned the air between them. "You can say that again."
Bergen slid his pad back into his pocket. He looked around the room, twisting one way and then the other.
"Where are the Archival teams?" he asked.
"The staff, you mean? Well, I'd certainly like your answer on that," Steven said, sliding his thumbs across the inner waistband of his pants in a small fit of indignation. "I was the first to wake up, in the dark. The pantry isn't properly stocked and there are no attendants, like the material promised. My—wife—died. I opened her chamber and—"
"Oh no no," Casper tsked. "You shouldn't open the chambers at all. There is a decompression element that could—"
Steven exploded. "Well, someone should have been here to tell me that, as I was assured there would be when we sunk our retirement fund into this ridiculous enterprise! Someone should've been here to save my wife! Once we get those outer doors open, you can bet your bottom that this whole facility will be hearing from my lawyers!"
"I'm sorry for your loss," Casper said. Steven snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "But it's doubtful that anyone's lawyers will be doing anything."
"What is that supposed to mean? Is that some kind of a threat?" Steven asked. He stepped closer, but must've smelled Casper's failed digestive experiment again, because he stepped back between the girls.
"Not at all," Casper said. "But if the outer doors are sealed? If that's true, then there might not be anyone to go back to. The only reason the door would still be sealed is if the Earth is still so unstable that it cannot support human life on the surface any longer."
"What the hell?" Maeve groaned. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"I wish I were," Casper said. Amber's voice was just a whisper.
"We're stuck down here forever?"
"It is a possibility," Casper said.
"Whoa." Maeve put a hand to her forehead, trying to absorb what he was saying. "Why don't you look at the door first and make sure nothing's stuck or some spring isn't working or something like that? It could be that they're just jammed."
"I can definitely look, but it is doubtful that there was a malfunction," Casper said. "There is incredible technology in those doors; I worked on them myself. If they aren't open, it is because there is a distinct problem on the other side."
"Something could have malfunctioned," Maeve said. She waved a hand in the general direction of Casper's pants. "Look at what happened with your digestive tablets."
Casper thought on it a moment and nodded. "I'll look at the doors."
He took a step forward, and all three women replied by taking a step back at once, hands raised for him to halt.
"Wait," Amy said, the whiff of him choking her. "Where are you going?"
Casper shrugged. "To look at the door, like you asked."
"Dude," Maeve said. "Go clean up first."
"Oh, yes." He looked down at himself. "I should definitely take care of that first."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hot Season 5, Year 2095
Wind's rear hurt from Eon smacking it each time she struggled to get off his shoulder. A racket in the forest would attract who knew what, but Wind almost welcomed the trouble that could come. A thief might distract Eon long enough for her to run away; another man, she might be able to charm into bashing Eon in the head and letting her go—for a price. Wind wasn't concerned. She knew the value men put on the velvety purse between her legs. Unfortunately, the only trouble they ran into was a drunkard that Eon stopped with a thunk to the nose and a man who went in the other direction the moment he recognized Eon's face.
When Eon finally dumped her near the dividing wall, Wind's heart sank. Returning to the Breed House, to tell her father that she had failed in obtaining a Link with Rha Diem would guarantee her to be cast out. She had always been his disappointment.
Her father had wanted his first born to be a son and Wind had failed him.
Seeing that his daughter was beautiful, her father had groomed his virginal daughter to be Linked to the most powerful House beside his own. Before any of it could happen, Wind was seduced by a Wall Guard. Pregnant, her father had sent her to live at the guard post like the women who were used and visited the guards for pleasures.
Three children later, Wind begged her father for one last chance to seduce Rha Diem to be her Link.
Offering her mating was her last bargaining chip. She had failed again.
Now that they'd reached the opening in the wall that led back to the Breed House, Wind walked into the Fly House guard camp, peering up at the solid stone wall that rose at least ten houses high, separating and surrounding each House lot from the others. The memories of the awful years she'd spent at the guard camp on the other side of this wall rushed back.
The guard shacks were huddled around the central fire and were all too familiar. The shacks were not living spaces. Opening the door to one, there were only three bunks in each, layered like wide shelves, which the guards climbed into from the doorway. The shacks surrounded the fire pit which was used to cook, to socialize, to hammer out weaponry, and to signal their presence to any members from other Houses who might try to pass through the opening in the wall without approval.
Wind could smell the gorne stew even before the guards appeared from all sides, holding red hot pokers to box her and Eon in, before bothering to question their business at the wall.
Eon still held tight to her upper arm as she swung a foot at his shins again, hoping to leave his grip behind. If she got the chance, she would run. She would run off into the woods and find her way back to Diem. She'd say anything, promise anything. As her father had once told her, if she could not use her body as a tool to gain leverage for her House, than what good was she?
She threw another kick at Eon. She tried to swoop down and bite his arm. Her mind was racing with how she would run, how she would throw herself at Diem's feet and insist that he'd misunderstood her.
"What brings you?" a guard asked.
There was no greeting, even though the guards were from Eon's own House. It was expected. And if Eon's answer was unsatisfactory, the guard would run one, or both, of them through with a white hot poker. Eon let Wind go since there was nowhere she could run.
"I've come to return Wind to Breed House," Eon said, gesturing to the guard who had spoken. "You know it's me, Motion, and you know this pain-in-the-tail too." He jerked a thumb at Wind and she booted the back of his leg.
"Wind," Motion's voice was flat. "You just came through. We're not guarding the opening for you to come back and forth as you please."
Eon spread his arms open. "Can you just toss her back for me one more time? Rha Diem sent me to be sure she's returned."
"It was Rha Diem that told us to limit passages," another guard said.
"Yes, well, that was before Wind insulted his sister," Eon said.
"I did not insult her!" Wind shrieked. "I told the truth—that she was wanted and
that she should be mated. You were the one that insulted me with your cursing and—"
"Oh, never mind it!" Eon threw up his hands. "Can you get her back over to her side? And don't let her back in this time either."
"You know it's not that easy," Motion said. That part was true. It endangered lives each time someone crossed. There were schemes and ambushes, and although the guards had prevented a great deal, there had been bloodshed and forced entries and it still made the guards wary.
"One woman is easier to send, than ten men coming to look for her," Eon reasoned, but another guard chuffed.
"It is never without risk."
"It would be better to seal the opening for good," the guard behind Wind said. "Keep the Houses to themselves. Then none of this would be of concern at all."
Wind had thought the argument good too once, but dragon harvesting required interaction between the Houses. And, it was a small pleasure in their world of endless work—the thrill of interacting with near strangers, exchanging for items that other House occupants were more skilled in making; mating with new faces.
"That is too long of a discussion for the moment," Eon said. "But Wind needs to return to her House so that I can go back to mine."
"Wouldn't it be nice to go home to a House?" Motion asked.
"So, close the opening," Wind chirped. "What is stopping you? You could close it now. You have a fire and enough spindling pitch to make a seal. You'd only have to boil it and—"
"When did this become a decision of yours, woman?" Eon asked. "If that was an option, we'd definitely still seal it with you on the other side."
"You're tired of being out here and isn't it ridiculous that you are?" Wind was flying along with all the guard's eyes on her. If there had been an available stump, she would've jumped on it to preach like some of the Traveling Taleors did. "The guard shacks are awful. And living out here where women only visit but never stay? Wouldn't you rather be back living in the comfort of Fly House?"
"Yes," Eon added, "wouldn't you rather be working the dragon fields like a common man? Wouldn't you rather be tied to the rules of the House, rather than living freely out here? Saying what you like, doing what you like, eating what you like? Yes, it is dangerous, but isn't that why some of the women come to give themselves to you, rather than you having to hunt for them in the woods? Isn't it better to lay with a woman who wants you all night in a guard shack than to fight one for only a moment of pleasure in a field? You are the Guards of Fly House, the Soldiers of the Wall. Would you prefer to return those titles and take up your old duties?"
The air seemed to thicken, the slight crackling of the fire swelling up in the silence as loud as a roaring dragon. Motion flicked his poker toward the barricaded opening in the wall.
"To your positions, guards!" he cried. "Prepare to open the wall and return the woman!"
***
It took several moments before the guards shifted the barricade from the opening in the wall. The guards rammed long, sharp sticks against the Breed House's barricade until the guards on the other side agreed to open their barricade too. Motion took Wind by the upper arm and pulled her to the door.
"What are you guarding?" she snapped at Motion. "Nothing! A hole! Men are all the same, whether it is stone holes or flesh holes!"
The Fly House guards stood, weapons aimed, as Motion drug her unceremoniously across the threshold, toward her own House's guards. Span's soldiers stood at attention too, their weapons also pointed at the Fly House guards.
Crossing to the other side of the wall was like walking into a reflection for Wind, except that she carried back the heady shame of Diem's rejection and her failure as a woman. Motion released her and she stumbled toward the Breed House guards, her head as high as she could keep it.
"She is yours and we return her unharmed," Motion said. He walked backward until he disappeared through the opening. Wind's least favorite guard, Blink, stepped forward and tugged her back behind the Breed House guards.
"She has been received," Blink barked. Wind rolled her eyes at the formality of the whole thing and jerked her arm from Blink's grasp. His hand flashed out and caught her arm again. "Oh no, not so quick, Wind."
"My father will cut out your eyes just for looking at me," she said, pulling against his grip. Blink's laugh echoed among the other guards.
"Will he?" Blink said. "Even though two of your generation are mine? You think he still worries over you? You're not his treasure chest anymore, Wind. You threw your lid open years ago and everything of value is long gone."
"I am not for you," Wind hissed. "Rha Diem is coming to speak intentions for me, so unless you'd like to start a war with the man who trained the Breed House dragon, and the man who knows how to turn it against whoever he wishes, then I would let go. He won't take well to you insulting his future Link and he may grant me my wish and use his dragon to burn your hands right off your arms."
Blink let go, although his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Wind. She knew the lie was a dangerous game to play, but she knew no other way of getting out of the guard camp, without being passed around first like a pail of water among thirsty men. She held her chin high; she needed Blink to buy into her growing heap of drait. His gaze burned her skin, but she held strong, hoping the tremble in her knees would not show.
"I will take you then, as an escort," he countered with a flick of his chin toward the trail leading back toward Breed House. Wind was uneasy with having any of the guards escort her, but especially Blink. It would take hours to reach the House and Blink could decide against his hands-off policy mind at any time. He'd done it before, resulting in Wind's first and third child, which also resulted in Blink's permanent placement as a Guard at the Wall.
That was Span's punishment, for violating the daughter he had planned to offer strategically to a rival when the time was right. Blink took from Span, so Span took from Blink.
It was never supposed to have happened. Blink had come to Breed House after mating Breeze. It was in the time in which the men changed Houses to be with their mated Links.
What had happened with Wind was a mistake that ruined his life. Being a handsome new man at Breed House, Blink had caught Wind's eye. She was the virginal Rha's daughter, a near celebrity in the House. An intact woman, with the body of a goddess and the ability to bring a Link to her powerful father's attention, Wind was as valuable as the earnings of five dragons to the potential suitors in her House.
But it was Blink she wanted, from the moment she first saw him. While Breeze was immediately sickened with their first child, a malady gorne could not fix since eating was intolerable, Wind took advantage of the woman's absence, making herself available whenever Blink was in the common rooms of the House. She helped him with chores, agreed with his positions in discussions, and swooned at his elbow as he played dice. She made it her sole job to keep his cup filled with distilled gorne.
And one night, he'd done what so many men did when faced with an overflowing cup. He lost track of where one cup became one too many. He joined in singing songs that chorused into the deep hours of the night. His eyes were red and refused to focus. He lurched off to toilet outside. Wind slipped away after him.
From behind a spindling tree, Wind watched Blink relieve himself. When he stumbled back toward the light of the House, he found her.
"What do you do out, beautiful girl?" he asked, half of a smile lifting on his lips. He went on to slur, "Is dangerous out here, for you."
"Not if you're with me," Wind said, moving close. His reactions were slow. The whole left side of him, just like the rest of his smile, was somewhat paralyzed by the distilled gorne, but once she moved under his arm and in close to his body, he squeezed her shoulder. She nodded her head under his, smelling the drink on his breath as she tipped up his face. He brushed her forehead with his lips.
For a moment, his eyes opened wide and startled, as if he'd kissed her and his muscles went tight in her embrace. As if, for one moment, the effect of the drink burne
d away and the memory of the sick woman that now carried his child gained footing, but then, his lopsided smile returned and his head lurched on his neck and he laughed.
"I'm going to have you, beautiful girl," he laughed. "And it's going to be sooo good."
What happened next was not at all what Wind expected and not at all good. Blink threw her down on the ground, only feet from the urine stream he'd made only moments before. He flipped her onto her stomach, the dark dirt of the Earth blowing up into her nose as he dragged her hips to him.
She was the one paralyzed now. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Blink was supposed to start this by speaking sweetly in her ear, distracting her while he caressed her through her clothes. He was only supposed to be savage on his surface, holding himself in utter control for her benefit. He was supposed to want her more than he wanted to frighten her.
But that was not what happened.
She heard the rustle of his pants and felt the tremor in her legs as he yanked them apart. He pushed up her skirt, exposing her in the cool evening air. She squeaked, struggling onto her hands and knees to scurry away, but he held tight to her thighs. He yanked her backward over the dirt with a laugh, as if this was nothing but a lover's game. She screamed in earnest then, but they were too far from the House and to attract more drunken men to the scene would've only meant an audience. Or worse.
She realized the proportions of her mistake in tempting this man as she felt the hard tip of him pushing against her slit. She opened her mouth to beg him to stop, but at the same moment, he pushed himself into her. She cried out as he issued a rough groan, burying his face in the back of her hair.
"Oh, honey, oh Breeze, you feel so good...so good..." he muttered, slipping kisses on her shoulder. She let loose a sob and he slowed his stokes of the hard rod between her legs. "Don't cry, honey, no...you are beautiful...let me love you, that's all. Let me stick this...oh yes, that's it, all the way...oh yes..."
The Fly House (The UtopYA Collection) Page 9