by Renee Rose
Riya. Oh, Riya.
Something catches my eye, and I scroll past more annual reports to something that stands out. Something that has me back in the sleep area, tugging at my cousins.
“Ronan. Tarren. Get the veck up. I need you to see this.”
It’s a slow process, like a towship tugging a disabled galactacarrier, but I persist, and the two of them stagger out, rubbing their eyes, haggard.
“I need you two to read this.” I point at the comms device. They blink, so I paraphrase what I learned. “It says that due to chronic electro-stimulation, Ocretion physicians have determined that structural changes occurred in her uterus, rendering her permanently incapable of achieving fertilization.” When they just look at me, uncomprehending, I scowl. “Don’t you get it? Chronic electro-stimulation is a pretty way of saying torture with their shock sticks.”
“Wait.” Ronan frowns, grabs my arm, his fingers digging in, and stares at the screen. “The reason she can’t get pregnant is because they tortured her?”
“I will kill them all.” Tarren’s voice is so cold that I know he’d do it, if he could.
“It appears so,” I answer Ronan—Tarren’s comment requires no reply. “I knew they used shock sticks on her. She told us. But I had no idea…” my voice cracks. “That it was done like this, or so extensively as to damage her.”
“Let me see the names.” Tarren’s hand darts out and he grabs the comm. “Look at this. Jax, Ronan.” He gets louder. “The two guards who were on her daily duty, they were the ones she killed. And the data doesn’t match. They said she snuck out at night in the judicial report, but here, this report says they died in an altercation in her sleep quarters. The altercation was between her, a younger slave, and the two guards. They were probably torturing her, and she lashed out to protect herself.”
“Or she was protecting the younger slave.” My stomach turns. “How much evil exists in this universe?”
“I don’t know, but maybe… perhaps we were too hasty with our angry words last night.” I bite my lip.
“She left us,” Tarren corrects, but his voice rises, as if on a question. “And she deceived us.”
“She did.” I agree. “But maybe… there was more to it than what it seems.”
“Maybe…” Tarren pauses.
“Maybe what?” I’m eager, snatching at his words. “What?” It will only make sense if someone else thinks it, too.
“Don’t rush me.” He scowls and runs a hand over his face. “Is there water?” He finds a pitcher and drinks to counteract the alcohol. “What if it was more complicated, like you said.”
“How so?” Ronan grabs the water from his hand and splashes some on his face.
“Use a vecking towel!” thunders Tarren, wiping droplets form his arm with a grimace. “Are you a toddler?” He sits down. “What if she’s more broken than we knew?”
“She was more broken. She can’t bear young,” Ronan points out.
“Not like that. Inside her soul.” Tarren thumps his chest. “And don’t vecking laugh at me,” he orders, piercing us both with his dark eyes. Neither of us move. He continues, “I’m not good at this. But what if she chose to leave first because she thought we’d throw her out?”
I blink, a seed of hope starting to grow. “That’s what I’m beginning to wonder.”
“If she knew she couldn't have young, and there’s a bounty on her head for murder, surely she was worried for her very life?” Tarren’s voice gains strength.
“What,” scoffs Ronan. “Like we’d toss her back to the Ocretians if we found out?”
The words hang in the air like a poisonous gas.
“Maybe,” I say eventually. “Perhaps she did wonder about it. After all, King Zander never made any mention of what might happen if a human couldn’t bear children.”
“What would happen?” Tarren furls his brow. “Would he… force her to leave her mates so a new human could try?” He wrinkles his nose. “That’s unpalatable.”
“But perhaps necessary, from a lineage perspective,” I point out, although something in me protests at the thought.
“But does that even make sense? After all, there are still many more males than females,” argues Ronan. “It’s impossible that all of us could father a child right now. There simply aren’t enough human females to go around. There are still many unmated Zandian males at this point, even if they team up in groups of three and four. So…”
We are silent again, this time longer.
“I don’t care,” Tarren says, and stands up. “I want her anyway. Even if she never can give me young.” He has that stubborn face I recognize, the one he wears into battle, the expression that inspires us all. Because when his visage is this strong and set, there is no chance we can lose. “I love her, and I can forgive her for what she did. And if you two are the Zandians I think you are, you’ll agree.”
I get up, and stand beside him, as if we are readying ourselves for war. “I am with you.”
Veck, I hope it’s not too late. What if King Zander has already sentenced her to some horrible punishment for her deceit? Or—star forbid—sent her away? And we weren’t there to defend her? To protect her? To vouch for her?
I grind my teeth and tighten my fingers into fists. It’s unconscionable.
Ronan hesitates, and I see his youth in his eyes, and a hurt he can’t hide. His emotions are on easy display.
“Cousin,” I tell him softly, although I stay next to Tarren. “If we are right, she only lied because she was afraid.”
He still doesn’t get up, and I hold my breath. We can’t even try unless all three of us are on board. Finally he gets to his feet and comes toward us, extending both hands. We each take one and squeeze.
Tarren smiles. “We will go to King Zander and tell him that we demand to have her back,” he orders. “That we do not care about young, although they are fine for others who desire them and can handle their annoying habits. Of course.”
“Yes,” I say, my heart exulting. “We will tell her that we mated her, and that bond can stretch, and it encompasses forgiveness and tolerance. Understanding. Compromise. She does not need to leave.”
“Cousins. Brothers,” Ronan says. “Let’s go get our mate.”
13
Riya
I can’t eat. I’ve just been hiding in Lily’s chamber, with my head under the covers, crying since I arrived the planet rotation before.
Lily tries to soothe me. She keeps popping in, offering teas of chamomile and lemon balm, and those I accept. I’m staying under her guardianship right now in the palatial pod, until I’m granted an audience with Zander at his weekly open throne. It’s an awkward situation at best, at least I haven’t been summoned for immediate sentencing. That makes me think Zander won’t banish me outright.
I betrayed him and my mates and have wasted valuable time by allowing them to all think I could become pregnant. If they’d been with another human, she’d probably be several lunar cycles into a pregnancy by now, and that would be one more Zandian baby to build our future.
I try to occupy my mind with my research. The books Dr. Daneth gave me contain calculus—something called differential equations. They make sense to me, the symbols dancing into my brain and locking into place, opening new corridors I should be eager to explore. My fingers attack the screen, tapping and clicking, moving the numbers around. I am the master here, in complete control. My brain lights up and my fingers move faster, as I figure something out. This is what I need to do, to figure out the right ratios for my latest—
“Riya?” Lily comes in with a tray of soup. “I have cream of mushroom—your favorite.”
I retch at the smell. “Please take it away.” I put a hand to my mouth as I look up from my screen. My voice is sharp, and I add, “I’m sorry, I’m just too upset to eat.” Part of my irritation was not just at the intrusive odor, but the interruption to my trance. Now I’m back in reality, a place that is ugly for me, right now.
S
he nods and leaves, coming back empty handed. “You need sustenance, though.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “If King Zander is going to send me away, it doesn’t much matter, though.”
Her expression drops. “He wouldn’t do that.”
I bite my lip. “I hope not. But it’s his choice.” A wave of dizziness rolls over me, and then another one, and I list in my chair, heart racing.
“Riya!” Lily is at my side in an instant. “You’re not well. I’m calling Bayla.” Bayla, Dr. Daneth’s mate, was a breeding slave before Daneth bought her. She’s works as his nurse now.
“Don’t.” I pull at her arm. “King Zander won’t want you wasting resources on a traitor like me.”
“You’re not a traitor. You just… made a mistake.” Her voice is hesitant, and I hear the conflict.
“It wasn’t a mistake.” At least I can be honest now. “It was a calculated decision. I chose not to tell them.”
She grimaces. “Can you phrase it another way, when you talk to the king?”
“I’m done lying.” I look at my tablet, but now my brain is too roiled up to focus. “It feels better to say things that are true. It’s like tearing off a scab. It hurts, but it feels so good to reveal the skin beneath it.”
“Riya.” She sits beside me. “Please let me help.”
“But you can’t.” I look at her, tears rising in my eyes. “If you can’t heal me, you can’t help me. It’s that simple. Besides, I made my own choices, bad as they are, and I need to stand behind that.”
“Your worth is not solely placed on your womb,” she snaps, suddenly mad. She touches my stomach. “Men are not judged solely by their ability to procreate. There are other ways to contribute to society. It would be a very foolish leader who does not understand that and allow for options. How can you not see that? Do you think Zander to be such a simpleton?”
“No! I don’t. I think he’s a leader who’s looking out for what’s best for his planet and his people and having a lying criminal may not be the right thing. I’ve tried. Mother Earth, how I’ve tried to make myself useful these past lunar cycles.”
“And you are,” she insists. “Don’t you see how your creations are valued? Dr. Daneth even said your salicylic acid idea may revolutionize the future of topical pain medicine for not just Zandians, but other species as well.”
My pride flashes but is doused. “But is that enough to make me worth keeping?”
“What if you were just a regular human without special skills, wouldn’t that make you worth keeping?” She touches my knee. “You helped in battle, you won your freedom, now you’re here. You’re part of this land. It’s impossible to assume that every single human will be able to have young. It’s not logical. You can’t just toss out people.”
Bayla enters the chamber. “Riya, Lily.” She nods.
I raise my hand. “Hello.”
“I hear you’re not well? You don’t look well.” She glances at me, her gaze lingering on my belly, and I flinch, as if my barren status shows in my very skin. “Come with me, to Dr. Daneth’s lab for an examination.”
I’m about to protest, but Dr. Daneth enters. His eyes are cool and assessing as he looks at me. “Come. I must examine you, Riya.” It sounds more like an order than a request.
I get up and follow them to Dr. Daneth’s examination room. Lily shoots me a sympathetic look as I leave.
Dr. Daneth attaches a soft silver clip to my finger and records some data. “Remove your clothing,” he says, his voice distant. “I need to attach these.” He holds up electrodes, and I comply, numb, as he attaches leads, takes an EKG. He grabs a blood sample with a small silver device. Nothing hurts, but I don’t know what they’re going to do with this data. Add it to my file, maybe.
Bayla presses my body, my lymph nodes, and when she reaches my belly, I recoil. “Ugh.”
“Does that hurt?” She and the doctor exchange a glance.
“I’m just upset,” I say. “And there’s a pain here.” I point to my lower abdomen. “Probably from not eating.”
“Is it sharp or dull?” she asks, pressing again. “Here?”
“Ow. Yes. Sharp, sometimes.”
Dr. Daneth repeats it, his fingers precise, locating the exact spot. “Interesting.”
“How so?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer, as he’s busy typing something into his screen.
“I’m going to run a scan,” he says. “Bayla, will you bring me the hand sono?”
His mate provides a small, handheld scanner, and he presses it to my belly. “You may have a benign cyst,” he explains. “If you do, it is easily treated.”
He presses a button and the device beeps. It’s something I’ve used as a medic; sometimes we needed to assess the deep tissue damage to know if there were nicks to internal organs before providing attention. I never expected one to be used on me.
The machine beeps again. “Interesting,” he repeats, and frowns.
My brain is so numb I don’t even care to ask what is so interesting. I assume he will tell me, in due time.
“Why don’t you get dressed,” he says slowly, and tilts his head at Bayla. “I’m going to go process this and then I’ll come back to discuss your exam.”
“Thank you.” The words are ridiculous, and after they leave the room, I pull on my clothes and stand up, and cross my arms, trying not to feel too much like a prisoner awaiting sentence. What could be worse than a lying criminal? A lying criminal who can’t have babies, and on top of that is ill, needing special attention from the doctor and nurse, who have much better things to do.
Mother Earth. Yes, cysts are not that complicated to handle. But I’ve already caused enough trouble.
While I’m waiting, King Zander, himself, enters.
I jump down from the examination table where I’ve perched and curtsy. I didn’t expect to see him here. My heart pounds, wondering if he’s decided what to do with me.
“Are you well?” he asks, his gaze probing.
“Well enough to talk to you, my lord,” I reply. “And apologize. I am sorry that I was not honest about my reproductive status. I knew I could not have young, and yet I allowed—I mated Tarren, Jax, and Ronan. And I didn’t tell them, either.” I swallow hard. “It was wrong. I hope I have done enough good for the planet that I may stay and help where I can.”
He gazes at me. “What did you think I would do?”
I shake my head. “Send me away to Jesel? Or another place? I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn't want me here. I don’t think I deserve to be sent back to the Ocretions. They will kill me.” My voice falters.
King Zander sighs. “I have failed.”
“No! Nothing I did was your fault.” Terror rises; I’m sure he’s going to say he failed by not recognizing my flaws, by allowing me to enter the program as a mate.
“I have failed in that I was not clear. The program started so quickly, and we did not think through all of the possible repercussions and possibilities.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Riya, I would not have sent you away for being barren.” His voice is patient. “As a freed slave, we owe you a life here. And that is true regardless of whether you can bear young.”
My mouth drops open. “But you gave the speech about us being pioneers, making sacrifices. That we were the ones who would repopulate.”
“All of that is true. But not every single individual will be able to participate in the exact same way. There will be some females who can’t bear young. There may be some Zandians who do not choose to or cannot mate. They can help in other ways, as you suggested. We started the program so fast, with so much exuberance, but not every detail was worked out. In the future, I will undertake to fix the gaps. No, I would not have sent you away for that.”
There’s a “but” in his voice that chills me. “But you’ll send me away for… lying? Deception?”
“Deception has no place here,” he says, his voice firm. “It is a cancer to a new population
that needs to trust each other to grow.”
“So… where am I going, then?” I thought I didn’t care, but I do. My eyes water and panic grips me. “If you give me another chance, I swear I will never be dishonest again. I will dedicate my life to helping this planet survive.”
“I will probably remand you to your mates for punishment,” he says mildly. “If they wish to keep you.”
I nearly burst into tears then, because I know my mates won’t want me back. They hate liars. They made that perfectly clear numerous times.
The door glides open, and there are my mates: Tarren, Jax, and Ronan. I don’t know who’s more surprised, me or King Zander, but Tarren advances, his eyes glittering and roars, “She’s not going anywhere. By the one true star, I swear, if you try to hurt her or send her away from Zandia, I will…”
“You will stop right now.” King Zander puts up his hand, and Tarren growls, but stops in his tracks, breathing hard, Jax and Ronan flanking him. All three of my mates have expressions of determination on their faces, and I’m so happy to see them that I almost want to fly. Except that they’ll never forgive me for my deception. “I am not sending her away. I was never going to do that. We are merely having a discussion about honesty and trust.”
“There are things you don’t know about her,” says Jax, his voice patient but firm and I see an iron will in him that matches the strength of Tarren. “She has been through unspeakable things, and we forgive her for lying to us.”
“You do?” I’m so shocked I stare at him, mouth open.
“Yes.” Ronan smiles at me. “Yes, we’re angry that you lied for so long. But we think we understand why you did it. We forgive you and want you to come back with us.”
“But I can't have young. You three, you can’t waste yourselves on me.” My voice is as weak as I feel. I can’t hear this right now. I’m going to give in, and that was the thing I swore I wouldn’t do. They deserve better than this.
“We don’t care,” announces Tarren, and everyone in the room reacts. Lily, who peeks in, with Dr. Daneth and the midwife at her heels, squeaks. Tarren continues. “It’s not a waste. Riya, you’re strong and smart and fun. Being with you makes us happier and stronger. It makes me enjoy life in a way I never did. I won’t get that with another mate, and I don’t want it with another. I want it with you. With or without young.”