by Regine Abel
“I didn’t tell anyone about its location, not even Khel,” I said, stiffly.
A gentle smile stretched his lips, and the tender look he gave me left me confused.
“Thank you, Fehama. I wouldn’t have faulted you had you done it. I do not fear the Xelixians watching me, but I have my reasons not to want to linger there.”
“Who else could possibly want to spy on you? Or threaten you, for that matter?” I asked, bewildered.
He sobered and looked back in front of him. “We’re almost there. You can see the house ahead. It’s smaller but on a large, private terrain.”
What the fuck is going on?
“I asked you a question. You said you’d answer truthfully,” I said in a hardening tone, confused by his odd behavior.
Xevius pursed his lips but still didn’t answer. I almost lost my shit, and then his words echoed in my head.
“As long as it doesn’t endanger Korlethea, I will answer truthfully.”
“I see,” I whispered, my mind spinning in every direction, trying to figure out what that meant exactly.
Why would the Korletheans spy on him? Had they finally found out about the bond between us? Did they suspect that Xevius was considering not going through with the mission? So many damn questions he wouldn’t answer. As much as I hated it, I understood all too well loyalty to one’s people.
We began our descent towards a small, one-story home. Judging by the abandoned ryspak orchard at the back, this no doubt used to be the house of the supervisor before the Taint made the land unfit for growing produce. Such lands were commonplace on Xelix Prime. In a few more years, as the land recovered, many of these abandoned places would be reclaimed. Some market speculators had already begun acquiring some such properties for ridiculously low sums.
A river ran a short distance from the house, with no neighbors in sight. Aside from the orchard, a large expanse of flatland surrounded the building. Unless they used stealth technology, no one could approach without being detected.
Xevius gently settled the shuttle on the landing pad a few meters from the house. Taking my hand once again, he led me out of the vessel, picking up his jacket along the way. The white walls of the house now had a greyish tinge to them from dirt and age, but they looked otherwise sturdy and in good condition. The solar panels on the roof looked fairly new, and the lawn around the building had been freshly cut. I didn’t know if the occluders on the large windows were a recent addition or to protect the residents from the glaring light of the suns.
Unsurprisingly, the inside of the house was in more whites and greys, with minimalistic furniture. I didn’t expect Xevius to personalize this space any more than he had the previous safe house he’d taken me to, considering it was merely a temporary arrangement. However, it piqued my curiosity to see what his living space looked like on Korlethea. Did he like colors? Soft or hard lines? Classic or hyper-modern? Getting to know your partner constituted one of the best parts of courting. And I wanted that.
“Are you hungry?” Xevius asked, hooking his jacket on the back of a chair.
“Not starving, but now that you mention it, I could have a bite,” I said, glancing around the room.
“I hadn’t expected such pleasant company. I’m afraid I can only make us some sandwiches, unless replicated food tempts you,” he said, apologetically.
“Hmmm, so this is how a Korlethean wines and dines his Sareema?” I asked teasingly.
Xevius looking at me like a kicked puppy made me melt from the inside out. I burst out laughing and wrapped my arms around him.
“A sandwich sounds lovely,” I said in a soothing tone. “I’ll even help you make them,” I added, kissing the tip of his nose.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, only partially mollified.
I loved how at ease we naturally acted with each other, as if we’d been close for years, even from the first time we had talked at his other safe house. There was no question the Goddess had created our souls to be paired.
“You know, Valena and Zhul met for the first time in an abandoned supervisor house like this one,” I reflected out loud while washing my hands. “But the way she described it, this is luxury in comparison. Hers sounded quite tiny.”
“Is that so?” Xevius asked, placing the bread and other ingredients on the kitchen counter.
“Mmhmm. Her master, Varrek, had placed her there for fear that Khel’s raids on his Blood Houses would eventually allow him to free her, and she was Varrek’s prized slave,” I explained. “She used her mind control powers in the most ingenious way to lure Zhul to her,” I said with undisguised admiration. “It’s quite unfortunate she’s of the Nurturer breed instead of a Warrior. With her power on the battlefield, she would be a killing machine.”
The Veredians were divided into three breeds, Warriors, Nurturers, and Scholars. Aleina, Amalia, Maheva, and I were all Warriors, which naturally gave us an innate talent with weapons and combat techniques. We were generally taller, faster, and stronger. Those of our breed who didn’t join the military became professional athletes, law enforcers, first responders, and manual laborers. Scholars, like Aleina’s son Yhanos and Mercy’s daughter Lissy, absorbed knowledge like sponges. They consumed science, math, and technology like candy and provided our people with the insanely advanced weaponry that had made Tuureans—our military—an unbeatable force within the known universe. And then Nurturers like Valena, filled the emotional, spiritual, psychological, and intellectual needs of our people, with many of them becoming teachers, therapists, artists, philosophers, and writers.
“My oldest sister, Sevina—Amalia’s mother—had been a kinetic like Aleina, but of the Nurturer breed. Had she survived to see freedom with the rest of us, I believe she would have become a sculptor. She’d made a sculpture of Eryon on board the ship they lived on so that Amalia could see what her father looked like.”
My throat tightened speaking of the sister I’d never met but only got to know through anecdotes from Aleina, Amalia, and Eryon. I also only ever saw Sevina through a holographic image of her holding a young Amalia on her lap. Sevina had been a beautiful, delicate little thing who, from all accounts, struggled to fit in the harsh world she’d been born into. Trying not to let those emotions get to me, I focused on the fruits I was cutting to make a side salad to accompany our sandwiches.
“You Veredians have developed such wondrous psi powers. It is both fascinating and terrifying to us Korletheans,” Xevius said. “Ours are quite different with every Korlethean possessing offensive and defensive psionic abilities as well as telepathy. And then some among us develop extra powers, the most frequent being foresight. But only a few of them achieve powerful enough levels to be labeled an Oracle like my aunt, or a Seer like Eryon. Then you have those with telekinesis, and then the extremely rare empaths.”
Xevius paused, appearing lost in thoughts. I waited, sensing he wanted to add more but was carefully choosing his words.
“When the first Korlethean Titans were born, they displayed the same kind of diverse powers Veredians possess. It had been a thrilling era for us until it turned into a nightmare.” He sliced the sandwiches he’d finished preparing, put down the knife, and looked at me as if I were some kind of enigma he’d love to solve. “After we eradicated them, my people spent a long time trying to understand how your people managed to possess such incredible powers and simply put it at the service of each other instead of using it to control others.”
I smiled, making no effort to hide the profound pride I felt for my species. “As much as I would love to brag about it being our superior moral standards, I have to say we don’t have that much merit as it is an intrinsic part of our nature. You could almost say it is encoded in our DNA.”
I shrugged, having no real explanation to give him about our Veredian instinctive need to nurture and protect our kin.
“The Sisters would never deliberately harm each other. According to our history, it was the same with our males before they all died. We can only
observe the new generation of boys and hope they will follow the same path, but so far it seems to be the case. As far as I know, Tayana is the only known Veredian to have struck another when she nearly killed my sister, Aleina. But then, she had no idea a Veredian hid beneath Admiral Lee’s Tuurean armor. When she found out, Tayana’s mind nearly broke from the shock. Valena had to command her to sleep to protect her.”
“Valena is truly phenomenal,” Xevius said, setting the plates containing our sandwiches on the round table next to the tall window looking out onto the front yard. “She, more than most among you, could truly become a tyrant if she so chose. Thaddeus often says that if his daughter joined the Agency, we’d all be forced into early retirement. She’d one-shot even the most impossible mission without needing anyone’s assistance.”
I stiffened at his words. Xevius’s amused expression instantly faded, and he looked at me questioningly.
“You know Valena’s father?” I asked, unable to hide the tension and resentment in my voice.
Xevius frowned and studied my face with confusion.
“Yes. He’s an Imperial Agent that I’ve had the honor of working with on many occasions, and a very good man.”
I snorted with disdain. “Good man… Right. Such a good man that, more than three years after being liberated by the joint efforts of Veredians and Xelixians, he only spares a thought to his daughter when it’s to brag to his fellow Korletheans. Your people have a pretty fucked up sense of family.”
We weren’t even talking about my father, but I couldn’t help the hurt and bitterness I felt every time I thought of our Korlethean fathers.
Understanding dawn on Xevius’s face. Circling around the counter, he stopped within arm’s reach of me.
“Things aren’t as simple as you think, Fehama. The Quorum—”
“Fuck the Quorum!” I snapped, interrupting him. “The Quorum wasn’t in the breeding compounds with us. For the sixty-one years that Gruuk ran the reproduction program, less than a handful of those Korlethean bastards gave their daughters any love or even spared us a thought. For three weeks, three times a year, they could have bonded with us. But no, we were abominations they’d been coerced into siring.”
Decades of hurt and rejection bitterly poured out of me. I stormed past him and parked myself in front of the window, staring at the endless flatland ahead, with nothing but short grass as far as the eye could see. The part of me that should have been filled with a father’s love felt just as barren.
“For years, the Sisters tried to entice the Korletheans into getting to know the daughters they’d help create. We had nothing but each other in that damn place. Over time, most of them stopped bothering rather than subjecting themselves, and especially their little girls, to constant rejection. Until my own sweet father,” I said with every ounce of sarcasm and contempt I could pour into my words.
Hugging my midsection, I turned around to face Xevius. The compassion in his eyes made me want to claw his face. I didn’t need his fucking pity.
“Growing up, I was a bit of a clingy child. I hounded my mother relentlessly about my father. I could see she didn’t care much for him, but in my naïve innocence, I thought that, if given a chance, I could patch things up between them.” I snorted with derision. “I didn’t realize at the time that Master Gruuk had assigned a different Korlethean to my mother. He had no practical use for my psionic power, and any other child my parents gave birth to would have the same power as me. Still, the new Veredian he was to mate with was also in our compound. Since Mother wouldn’t introduce me to him, when the guards brought in the Korletheans for the next mating, I ran to them and asked to see my Papa Saren.”
Xevius winced. From the look on his face, he must have known the heartless, whiny, simpering male that had sired me.
“You know what he said? ‘Go back to your mother, you little vermin. I wish you would all die so that we could be free again.’ That was the one and only time daddy dearest ever addressed me. I was a little over six years old.” My voice almost choked on the burning pain of this memory, which had forever scarred me. “After that, the Elders locked up all the children in the dorms when the Korletheans were brought in to spare us further pain.”
He’d spoken the same type of vitriolic words to Aleina’s mother when she tried to get him to spend time with their first daughter, Sevina. Like Maheva, I didn’t shed a tear when my father died in a failed escape attempt.
“I am so sorry, Fehama,” Xevius said in a gentle, soothing voice. “Saren isn’t representative of all of us. He was a weak, selfish man. None of my brothers wished you ill. In truth, many of us knew we’d be enslaved at some point as it had been foreseen. Even Eryon had known.” He ran both hands through his hair with a mix of shame and frustration on his beautiful face. “The Quorum stated the edict of no mingling with Veredians, regardless of the bond, more than seventy years ago, long before my birth. Like me, your fathers all grew up being indoctrinated in that sense.”
“How convenient,” I said coolly, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Hardly convenient. For what it’s worth, the first seeds of a potential civil war on Korlethea stemmed from the fathers wanting to disobey the Quorum’s edict. Eryon’s reunification with Amalia only fanned the flames.”
“But clearly not enough,” I retorted, feeling snotty for it.
I didn’t understand how any government could forbid their citizens to reunite with their offspring. Worse still, it made no sense to me that the population would accept it. After all, Korlethea wasn’t a dictatorship or a monarchy, and the Omniates were elected for limited periods of time. If our fathers disagreed so much, why not show it in the votes?
“Tell me, Kamala, you who have traveled both Quadrants of the known galaxy, how many Korletheans have you encountered?”
I slightly recoiled, taken aback by the seemingly random question.
“None really. But what does that have to do with anything?” I asked.
“You haven’t met any because, unless they are on a military or diplomatic mission, my people do not leave Korlethea.”
“And?” I asked, slightly annoyed and wondering what was the point.
“Which means most of the Korletheans who sired your Sisters were soldiers, agents, or important political figures,” Xevius said, taking two steps towards me. “All of us swore oaths of allegiance as part of our functions. The Tuureans are the military of the Veredians. What would happen if over nine thousand of your Warriors, many of them senior officers, decided to defy the edicts of your Council for personal reasons, and defected?”
Chaos. Panic. Civil unrest.
I’d never looked at it from that angle. Still recovering from near extinction, our population was nowhere near as big as the Korletheans’ but even if a third of that number defected from our army, it would leave severe scars we wouldn’t soon recover from. For a species almost obsessively patriotic like the Korletheans, it would indeed mean civil war.
“And what of you, Xevius?” I asked bitterly. “You were in the compounds for a year. How many of my Veredian Sisters are pining away in vain for your fatherly love?”
The question seemed to surprise him. “None,” he answered dismissively.
“Oh please,” I said, not buying it for one instant.
“I do not lie,” Xevius snapped, his sudden anger startling me. “If I can’t answer truthfully, I simply won’t. Unlike my brothers, the Guldans didn’t enslave me against my will. I allowed myself to be captured in order to perform my mission. The Oracles had confirmed I’d be free in no more than a year, so I received a biological contraceptive implant that wouldn’t be picked up on a medical scanner. It would have been stupid for me to sire daughters whose lives I could never be a part of.”
My mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. I was beyond relieved, but my heart still bled for my fatherless Sisters and for my own daddy issues. Xevius closed the distance between us and carefully drew me into his arms. I didn’t
resist, welcoming the comfort of his strong body and the warmth of his embrace.
“I am no Seer,” Xevius softly said in my hair, “but this situation cannot last forever. My brothers truly ache to see their daughters. Some of them even found their soulmates among your Sisters. The Quorum will have to relent. Help me convince them that the Titans are not a threat, and everything else will fall into place.”
I lifted my head to look into his eyes. “Convince them? Not you, too?” I asked.
Xevius snorted. “Truth be told, I believe my mind was made up even before my departure from Korlethea. I had been keeping tabs on the children since their births to know if I’d made the wrong choice in sparing your sister. They never gave me any reason to regret that decision.”
I held my breath, my heart soaring. Eyes flicking between his, I waited for him to confirm what I’d hoped—and deep down believed—would be his choice. Xevius smiled and gently brushed my hair from my face.
“My encounter with them at the Praghan estate, and witnessing their behavior in that schoolyard, sealed it.”
I crushed his mouth with a bruising kiss. He chuckled against my lips before responding with his usual passion. I would never get tired of the taste and feel of my mate.
My mate. My true mate.
It was still too early to plan a future, but at least, we had a chance at one. Even if he didn’t go through with the mission, his words about the domino effect of Korlethean defection hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. We might not be able to build a life together for a while still.
As if he’d sensed a shift in my mood, Xevius ended the kiss and examined my face. I smiled trying not to let the depressing thought ruin the moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then seemed to change his mind and said something else instead.
“Any luck obtaining me that interview with the Praghan children?” he asked.
The way I chewed on my bottom lip told him things weren’t great. My mate would never consent to Khel’s conditions.
“You can interview the children only if you first allow Valena to read your mind to confirm your intentions.”