by Aline Ash
“I love you,” she whispers.
As if her words were the key that unlocked the door inside of me, I feel my jura swell and a moment later, I erupt. She writhes and pushes back hard against me as she takes the seed I pump into her. I lean down, clinging to her, and plant a line of kisses down her back as I let the sensations of ecstasy wash through me. It makes my body tremble and fills me with a light I know is brighter than the suns of Tabia.
My heart slows gradually and I step back, my jura slipping out of her along with a flood of my seed. Some of it hits the floor with a splash and some spills down the insides of her thighs in pale purple rivulets. Marissa stands and turns around. She leans against my torso as she gazes up at me, her face filled with emotion. I look down at her and smile.
My heart swells with my feelings for her, getting to the point I feel like it might burst. I know this won’t be easy and there are a lot of things that we have to talk about, that we have to plan for, but all of the sudden I realize that a life without Marissa is not a life I care very much about.
“I love you too, my little human,” I say.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marissa
The next week passes in a steady and thankfully normal rhythm and routine. I’ve spent my mornings taking care of Tara. With regular food and medical treatment, she’s looking quite a bit healthier than she has. She’s still weak, but she’s stronger than she was, which I find encouraging. I still worry about her, though. She’s not strong enough to defend herself against further attacks. But because most believe that she’s under Kon’s protection, they tend to give her a wide berth.
My nights have been spent with Kon. We talk, we laugh, and we make love every night, sometimes two and three times. He has endurance and stamina, that’s for sure. And I find that when it comes to him, I am absolutely insatiable. I have never been with someone who’s made me feel the way Kon does. And I’m not talking just about the physical stuff.
As great as the sex is, it’s how he makes me feel inside that has me desiring him like I’ve never desired anything before in my life. He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel comfortable, both with my own body and my sexuality. But most of all, he makes me feel safe. Not just because he’ll rip the arms off anybody who messes with me. I mean safe as in I can open up to him and share my innermost, truest self. And I know now that he’ll never judge me for it or use it against me.
“Are you nervous?” she asks.
I cut a glance over at Tara and give her a smile I hope doesn’t betray the butterflies that are battering my insides. But knowing the Culling is later tonight, I can’t help but be scared. Not just for myself, but for Tara as well.
“No, I’m fine,” I reply. “And you?”
She gives me a languid shrug. “I will be well below the cutoff line. I will be one of the one hundred sent to the arena to be Culled,” Tara says. “I accepted my fate long ago.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe that she has accepted the fact she’ll be sent in to be slaughtered. Not wanting to believe that I can’t help her.
“Tara, there has to…”
She gives me a soft smile. “There is nothing to be done for it now. The die has been cast already. My biggest concern is that you’ll be joining me in the arena because of your kindness.”
My taking care of Tara has remained a sore subject between Kon and I. But he now at least understands and respects my decision. He’s even helped by buying some of the goods I give to Tara since he’s not even close to being near the cutoff point. But I still am. And although I’ve seen a rise in my astrat as we’ve been putting on good shows in the bedroom for the past week or so, I don’t know that it’s enough to offset the hits I’m taking by continuing to care for Tara.
Truth be told, I’m more than a little nervous about the coming announcement simply because I don’t know where I stand as far as astrat go. I very well could find myself below the cutoff line. And although it worries me given that this can complicate the plan Kon has to get us out of here, I can’t make myself feel regret for trying to care for Tara. It was and still is the right thing to do.
I give her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. I do not turn my back on friends.”
Her smile is soft and sad. “No, but I am sorry for putting you in a position where you felt you had to help me.”
“You didn’t put me in any position,” I tell her. “And I certainly didn’t feel like I had to help you. I did it because I wanted to. Because I felt it was the right thing to do. And I would do it again, Tara.”
A loud, shrill chime sounds, echoing off the stone walls of the chamber. Immediately, the room around us grows silent. It’s quieter than I’ve ever heard it in here before, and frankly, it’s even creepier than it normally is. All of the prisoners seem to be holding their breath as the holo-image of Administrator X’yr is projected on the stone wall at the front of the chamber. I know this broadcast is going out to Gargole, so the bloodthirsty savages there can start lining up tickets and bets.
“Prisoners, it is time to announce the participants of this year’s Culling,” he announces in his dry, monotone voice. “As you know, this is a time-honored tradition that allows us to operate this facility and provide you the amenities we do.”
I roll my eyes. Participants. He says it like anybody has a choice in whether they are participating or not. Also, to get the amenities in this place, he mentioned, you have to fight, kill, maim, or rape. There is nothing freely given here. As Tara’s situation sadly reminds me.
But Kon explained it to me that the Culling is the prison’s way of staying financially viable since taking a hundred prisoners out of the facility—in body bags, but still—frees up cash. And because it has become such a large event, the income flowing in from the gamblers who come to watch the spectacle live keeps the place flush.
It really is like well-funded, televised gladiator fights. The deaths of the prisoners in here are the amusement for the masses. It’s disgusting.
“I will begin announcing the names of our participants,” X’yr says, and I feel my stomach clench.
A second image is projected onto the wall, and the first name comes up along with the image of a smaller Gargolian female. X’yr reads the name off his list, and then the next image is projected, and he reads the name. He goes on, and with each name he reads, the knot in my belly grows tighter, but there is also a small flicker of hope starting to smolder inside me because, with each name he announces, it’s one more chance I have of not being on his list.
My gut churns wildly when he reads off Tara’s name. I knew it was coming, but even so, hearing him speak her name hits me like a runaway train. I grip her hand tighter, and when I look over at her, she’s got a sanguine smile upon her lips.
“Please tell me you are not surprised,” she says, and actually chuckles.
“I just—”
She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “It is all right, Marissa,” she says. “As I told you, I am at peace with it.”
Maybe she is, but I’m not. And as long as I’m drawing breath—or rather, Tara is—I will not stop fighting for her. She seems so blasé about it, but I want to rage, and I want to cry, and I want to punish all of the bastards involved with this fucking spectacle because it’s just not fair. It’s so fucking wrong in so many ways.
X’yr reads on and on and finally comes to the end of the list. Tara turns to me with a wide and genuinely warm smile on her face. Although I’m relieved, of course, I’m having trouble being happy. I turn and take both of Tara’s hands in mine.
I know that in prison you can get practically anything you want since there’s always a very healthy black market operating inside these facilities. Given that Kon has some clearly illegal way to communicate with the outside world to pursue his escape plan, I know that I can’t be wrong about this.
“Is there anything you can take that might make you stronger?” I ask. “Something tha
t might give you an advantage in the arena?”
She purses her thin lips and looks away for a moment as she thinks about it. She turns back to me, and I see that she’s got an answer, but the dim light of hopelessness tells me it’s not easy to get. If not outright impossible.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It…there is a drug the Gargolians manufacture called Zypr’n. It enhances strength, speed, agility—they use it on their soldiers,” she tells me. “They keep some on hand for the guards here in case there is ever a revolt. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Zypr’in…” I nod. “Okay, is there anybody in here who deals it? I’ll gladly give them all my astrat—”
Tara cuts me off with a shake of her head. “No, it’s the one thing that is not available in here,” she replies. “My understanding is that it’s kept in the healing bays for use by the guards only.”
I sit back and purse my lips, trying to think of a way into the med bay. I’d tried to fake an injury a few weeks ago when I wanted to look for the other human woman Tara told me she’d seen in there. I gave myself a very pronounced limp and howled at the gate for a guard, telling them that I’m in pain and need a healer. Nobody came to check on me. I didn’t get so much as a “screw you” from any of the guards. For all they knew, I was bleeding out, and if that had been the case, I’d be dead right now. Oh, it had given Tara a good laugh, but that was all my efforts were good for.
But now, this is genuinely a matter of life and death, and I need to find a way into that med bay. I look over at her, my jaw set, and a steely resolve coursing through me as I hold her gaze.
“I’m going to get in there and get you the Zypr’n,” I tell her. “I don’t know how yet, but I will get in there.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marissa
“Will you listen to me for a second? We have to help her.”
Kon sighs and shakes his head. “I told you before that her death was a certainty,” he replies. “I told you there was nothing that could be done for her other than what you were already doing.”
“But she’s weak, Kon,” I protest. “I can’t let her—”
“You can,” he growls. “You must.”
I drop down into the chair and bury my face in my hands. A feeling of despair washes over me, and I feel utterly powerless to help her. I know if she goes into that arena without any help whatsoever, she’s going to be dead in moments. I also know that even if I were to get her the drug, there’s no guarantee she’ll survive. But at least it might put her on a more even playing field with the other killers in there with her.
I raise my head. “What if we bring her with us?”
“Absolutely not,” he says. “We cannot risk jeopardizing our cause for her.”
“Kon…”
“The Culling provides us with the distraction we need to execute our plan,” he cuts me off. “Our window is very tight, and we can’t afford to miss it. And rescuing her from the arena is too risky. It can blow up the whole plan.”
I remain where I am with my face still in my hands, willing the tears to stop. Kon steps over to me and lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. I take a moment to gather myself and look up at him.
“I am truly sorry, Marissa. I know you are very fond of her,” he says softly. “But I can’t risk other people’s lives, my crew’s lives, to save her. We have to escape to free our Tabia, and this is strategic importance to keep my men alive. I bet Tara sees it as a higher value than her own life as well. Any Tabiean does.”
“There has to be something we can do,” I say weakly, but I can’t argue with his point of view, and I am sure he is right about what Tara thinks too.
He shakes his head. “I wish there were, if only to ease your conscience,” he says. “But you must be here in this cell one chora before the Culling begins. One chora, Marissa.”
I nod. “One hour. I got it. I understand.”
“Good,” he says, and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. “Now, I have preparations to make. I will return later.”
I watch Kon walk out of the cell, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the heavy burden of guilt that’s pressing down on me so hard, I feel suffocated. Logically, I know he’s right. If the prison break is set to happen during the Culling, there is no way she can be with us. Tara can’t, unfortunately, be in two places at once. But even if she could, Kon and his men never planned to take any casual passengers to join their ride to freedom. I was a casualty, and Kon struggled a lot with himself and then with his crew to have me aboard. He and his men are at war, and they think like warriors. Which means that Tara is going to have to be left behind. Many poor and innocent prisoners here will be left behind.
Knowing that and seeing the logic in it doesn’t ease the burden of guilt that’s crushing me. Since Tara can’t come with us, my train of thought circles back around to figuring out how to get her a dose of the Zyprin to at least give her a fighting chance in the arena. But the healers don’t take prisoners there except in the case of emergencies or…
That’s it. That’s my way in. It’s risky, but it’s a way to get into the healers’ bay.
“Thank you, Tara.”
I get to my feet and walk out into the corridor, finding my way back to the main chamber. Luckily for me, there are a couple of guards standing near the door observing the prisoners. Clutching my belly, I try to make myself look sick as I stagger over to them. I catch Tara from the corner of my eye, and she gets to her feet, a look of concern on her face. I give her a small shake of the head and continue on.
“I don’t feel well,” I tell the guards. “I keep throwing up.”
“So what?” the first guard hisses. “Crawl in a hole and die for all I care.”
I groan as the guards share a laugh and make a dry, retching sound. They take a step back, clearly not wanting me to throw up on their boots. I cover my mouth with my hand for a moment, then look up at them and slowly lower it, my wave of nausea passing.
“I think I might be pregnant,” I tell them quietly.
They exchange a look, and the first one sighs. “Fine. Take her to the healers and have them check her out.”
The second guard nods and grabs me by the arm, practically shoving me through the door. I follow him through a labyrinth of corridors until we come to one at the end of a long hallway. He opens it up and shoves me inside.
“Wait here,” he says. “The healer will be in soon.”
When the door closes, I immediately start searching cabinets and shelves, looking for the Zypr’n. The trouble is, of course, that I don’t know what it is I’m looking for exactly. Is it an injectable? Is it a pill? What does it look like? It was stupid to get in here without knowing exactly what to do, but I only have a few hours until it will be too late. So, fuck the logic. I’ll improvise.
My heart lurches, and I practically jump out of my skin when I hear a soft whirring sound behind me. I turn and see a round metal sphere hovering a few feet above the ground, floating out of the other room. It’s perfectly smooth except for two round blue lights that approximate eyes and what looks almost like a drive-thru speaker beneath them, giving it a creepy sort of face.
“Do you require medical assistance?” the drone intones, its voice low and tinny.
It’s a med drone. Perfect. “Yes, I need medical help.”
“How may I assist you?”
“Zypr’n,” I tell it. “I need two doses of Zypr’n.” I try hard to sound similar to how Gargolian would pronounce it.
There is a long pause as I guess the drone computes my request. I’m half convinced it’s alerting the guards or something, but a moment later, I’m surprised when a small compartment slides open, and a long metallic arm extends, holding two vials of a viscous, green fluid.
“Two doses Zypr’n,” it says. “Do you require anything else?”
“Uhh, no,” I reply. “You may go.”
I watch as it floats back into the other room, stunned by how easy that was. I
quickly hide the vials in my boot as I hear a bell chime on the main door. A tall Gargolian in a dark lab coat walks in and stands there, looming over me. He inhales deeply, as if he’s trying to catch my aroma or something.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Your guard says you think you may be pregnant,” he says. “Tell me why.”
“Uhh, well,- I’ve been getting sick in the mornings a lot,” I lie. “I feel queasy most of the time.”
“That is not definitive of anything,” he snaps. “You could just have a stomach bug.”
“Fine. Then send me back to my cell, and we’ll wait for something more definitive.”
I start toward the door, but his voice stops me in my tracks and sends a cold chill sweeping through me.
“Wait,” he says. “I need to be thorough. Return to the table. Now.”
Swallowing hard, I walk back to the table and have a seat. He steps over to me and pulls a weird Star Trek looking device out of his coat pocket.
“What is that?” I ask.
“A pregnancy test,” he replies. “Now hold still.”
A horizontal blue light is emitted from the front of the device, and the doctor sweeps it up and down my body as he stares at the screen on the back of it. I see something in his eyes shift. It’s a light of manic excitement as he looks up at me.
“Excellent news,” he says. “You are not infertile. The previous tests got it wrong. You are pregnant.”
The news hits me in the gut harder than even a Gargolian bully could punch me. I hold my hand to my stomach and try to catch my suddenly labored breath. Pregnant? That would mean I’m pregnant with Kon’s child. I am stunned with the news, not sure if I should be excited. How is this even possible? But if the test is correct, I don’t know that I can carry an alien’s child. I’m overcome by a wave of fear. What sort of impact will it have on me? Can I survive giving birth to a half-human and half-Tabiean baby? Will the baby be okay?