“You had no reason to believe otherwise?”
Sletran rubbed his forehead. “High command had been careful given the number of innocent colonists in the area. You see, New Bethlehem was supposed to be a peaceful farming colony. It was only towards the end of the war we discovered a secret military base had been placed there by Earth’s forces.”
When he faltered, Conyod pressed him. “My understanding was that they surrendered after Armageddon. After Earth fell.”
Sletran nodded. “The commander at the base did. And there were a few weeks of peace. A few companies were sent in to dismantle the military base and make sure no weapons of mass destruction remained. Peacemakers showed up to make sure the colony had all the supplies they needed since nothing would be coming from Earth anymore.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Some of the Earther soldiers didn’t want to give up the fight, even though their world was as good as dead. They wanted revenge for their losses. The attacks were sporadic at first, then they got worse. The rebels got better organized and turned to guerilla fighting measures. They went after the other Earthers, the colonists. People who came to us for help were attacked, sometimes killed for being sympathizers.”
Conyod shook his head. He couldn’t imagine that kind of rage.
“We were turning the tide, though. We’d captured or killed all but the core group, a group of highly trained military specialists. And we finally found out where their headquarters was located. Intelligence relayed to high command reported comings and goings from a community center on the edge of one farming collective.”
“So you were sent in.”
Sletran nodded. “It was a couple hours after dark. My group was given the privilege of ending the nightmare, once and for all.”
His gaze was far away, reliving the hell he’d been through. Conyod prodded him once more. “So you see evidence of plenty of people in that building, just as you expected.
Everything as far as you know is verified. You tell the group to ignite the explosives they set.”
Sletran looked at him, pain flooding his eyes. “Right after I gave the order, one of the shutter shields was turned off. Standing in the window was a child. A little Earther boy, perhaps no older than five. Such a beautiful little creature with big, brown eyes peering out into the dark.”
“By the ancestors,” Conyod whispered.
The Nobek’s voice trembled. “He’d turned off the shutter to look outside, I guess. I lost maybe half a second, just staring at him in shock. There were only supposed to be grown men in there, trained soldiers who’d turned on their own. But instead, I’m looking at a child. A child whose life is about to end because I’ve given the order to detonate the building. Then a woman, perhaps his mother, rushed up to the window. She seemed to be chastising him for switching off the shutter.”
Conyod realized he was squeezing Sletran’s shoulder hard. He made himself ease up. “You tried to stop the assault.”
The Nobek’s tormented gaze met his. “I screamed at my men, Conyod. ‘Abort mission.
Civilians in danger. Mataras and children inside. Abort mission.’ I was on my com in an instant, trying to stop the second team from detonating their end of the explosives. But there was interference. They never received the order.”
Conyod’s training failed him in that moment. Nothing came to mind except to repeat, “You tried, Sletran.”
“My men had to hold me back because I wanted to run at the building, as if my being there would stop it from happening. I keep thinking how much better it would have been if they’d let me go. If I’d died with the ones I killed.”
Conyod’s voice was breaking with the agony he felt for Sletran, for the little brown-eyed boy Sletran had seen, for all the women and children caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. “You didn’t kill them, Sletran. It was a terrible mistake, one you did your best to keep from happening.”
Sletran’s gaze was far away again. “All those body parts. There were less than thirty people in there, and a half a dozen survived the blast, including the child I saw. But there were so many pieces, it looked as if hundreds had been slain.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen people die. I’ve killed my enemies with my bare hands when needed. But I’ve never seen anything so horrible as what I saw that night.”
Conyod squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’ve always been dedicated to protecting the weak. The guilt that you couldn’t this time is what is hurting you.”
Sletran’s voice turned angry. “I’ve always stood between the helpless and danger. And everyone still thinks that’s who I am.”
“You are that man, Sletran. That hasn’t changed.”
Sletran shook his head. “I’m not that Nobek anymore. People believing that of me is a joke.
I’m a lie.”
Conyod grabbed his jaw and made him face him. “Not if you take up the challenge again.
Listen to me, my Nobek. Your life has been made up of good works. A lifetime of good works cannot be undone by one mistake that wasn’t even your fault.”
Sletran looked at him wonderingly. “You believe in me. Even after knowing what I’ve done.”
Conyod choked out a humorless laugh. “Of course I believe in you, my Nobek. I know your heart. You are not a monster.”
Sletran reached up and grabbed Conyod’s hand, holding onto him tightly. “Do you really think I can redeem myself for what happened on New Bethlehem?”
The Imdiko poured all the faith he possessed into his voice. “I do. I’ll be here to help you do so, too.”
Sletran stared, searching his face for something. Apparently he found whatever he was looking for, because he finally nodded. Some of the agony dissipated. “Then for you, for Rachel, for Erybet, I’ll try.”
It was a start, and Sletran seemed so much more at ease now that he was sure Conyod wasn’t about to turn his back on him. The Imdiko was still concerned about the Nobek’s missing time, but he hoped to soon resolve the issue. He had an idea.
Chapter 13
Rachel and Erybet left a furniture shop in the underground market area. Rachel was scowling, and Erybet sighed. His hand closed on her wrist and he stopped her only a few feet from the store.
“My Matara, you must understand. Your clan provides for you. This stubborn pride is only going to make us all unhappy if you persist in it.”
She only frowned all the harder. The argument had begun when she’d seen the expensive items the Dramok had wanted her to buy for her private rooms. The fact she’d have more than one room for her personal use at the home, one that was a kind of sitting room and another for her to resume her music studies and practice, was simply too much. She couldn’t stomach the clan spending that kind of money on her, especially when no one knew if she’d prove any good at playing an instrument after all this time. It was ridiculous, and she quickly typed a message to that effect.
Erybet pursed his lips, and she saw a spark of temper in his eyes. “I realize you have gone without in the past due to a lack of funds. I understand that such things are luxuries to you. But for me, as your Dramok, your happiness and wellbeing are non-negotiable items. Your clan has the means to make sure you have what you need, or else we wouldn’t have been placed in the lottery.”
Rachel stamped her foot in frustration. But I don’t NEED a music room!
“You need an outlet for your talents and interests, just as the rest of us do. I have an art studio. Conyod has stables and kestarsh. Sletran has space for his martial arts practice. Whether you think you’ll be able to play again or not, you have to explore the possibility. Even if you have no talent, which I highly doubt, if it brings you pleasure then the pursuit is worthwhile.”
Rachel appreciated his attitude, but she still felt she was taking advantage of the clan. She wished she had some skill that would profit them, some ability to pay her own way. She’d been a charity case long enough.
Erybet pulled her to a curved bench in the middle of the square an
d made her sit down. He settled next to her and regarded her with steady purple eyes. “You are so proud, my beauty.
You are a strong woman, and I love that about you. It would be easy for you to feel life owes you an easy time after the torment you’ve suffered.”
Rachel shrugged. She’d seen some Earther Mataras with that attitude. It wasn’t one she subscribed to.
Erybet pushed his hair back from his face. “Do you know what it’s like to be able to care for you? To make your life good so you can pursue your lost dream of playing music?” He smiled. “It’s what I was made for, Ray-Ray.”
She made a face and shook her head. Erybet was not put on Earth – oops, Kalquor – to make her happy. That was her responsibility.
“How can I make you understand how much it means to me to help you realize your full potential?” His gaze bore into her. “There were so many people I couldn’t help during the war, Ray-Ray. I wanted to, but there were just too many. Most didn’t want my help.” His head dipped down and he studied his hands. “Now I have a Nobek who suffers from the war, and I can’t do much to help him either.”
Rachel typed quickly. I’m sure that’s not how he feels.
“He needs much that I can’t provide. And it makes me feel as if I’ve failed him.” Erybet looked up, his eyes peering from behind the strands of long black hair that had fallen forward. “I can be the Dramok I need to be with you. I can provide the means for you to be everything you ever dreamed. To give you the opportunity to fulfill whatever destiny life has set for you.”
But it’s too much. I don’t deserve that kind of generosity.
Erybet blinked when he read her handheld. He gave it back to her. “Rachel, read what you just wrote. Read it as if your closest friend said this to you.”
Rachel huffed. What was he trying to prove? She knew exactly what she’d said.
The Dramok’s gaze never wavered. “Do it.”
Rachel re-read it, just to shut him up. She frowned.
“You see it, don’t you? Who told you, you aren’t deserving?”
That was easy enough to answer. Plenty of people had told her that very thing. A government who didn’t see fit to make sure her father’s workplace met health requirements, dooming him to die much too soon. A mother who was too lost in grief to take care of her young daughter, instead becoming the dependent herself. A society that didn’t care why she hadn’t been able to finish basic schooling, just that she hadn’t.
It was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on Rachel’s head. The words had never been spoken to her, but the message had been received just the same.
Drops splashed on her hands clenched in her lap. For a moment Rachel thought it was somehow raining in the underground marketplace. Then she realized the drops were tears. Her tears.
She knuckled them away almost angrily. She was tougher than this. But the tears continued to leak from her traitorous eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop.
Erybet pulled her close, cradling her head to press it to his chest. His lips pressed the top of her head. “I’m sorry if I made you cry. Seeing those words coming from you was bad enough, but to cause you to weep rips at me, my Matara. All I want is to make you happy. I want you to realize you deserve to be that way.”
Rachel gulped an almost silent sob. Her fingers trembling, she typed, I thought Conyod was the therapist of this bunch.
Erybet chuckled when she showed him. “Maybe our Imdiko’s good sense is rubbing off on me. Don’t tell him; he’d never let me hear the end of it.” He leaned back and gently rubbed the wetness from her cheeks. “Do you care about my happiness, Ray-Ray?”
Her brow wrinkled. Of course I do.
“Then accept the damned furniture, because taking care of my very deserving Matara makes me happy.”
Rachel blew out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Eryi.” She strained upward and he obliged her with a gentle kiss.
“Thank you.”
She burrowed against his side, enjoying his warmth, his solidity. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on her imprisonment and torture, other issues reared their ugly heads. Like Conyod, Erybet kept her safe while her strength faltered. And instead of thinking less of her for it, he appreciated being her support. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the way his cheek rubbed back and forth over her head. She heard it in his contented sigh.
Rachel couldn’t help but smile. If she had to crumble into a weeping mess, having this man
– any of her three men – to pick up the pieces was a fine thing, indeed.
They sat that way for a while, Erybet’s arms wrapped around her, hers around him, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. The Dramok didn’t seem to care they were in public.
Other unattached Kalquorians looked at them with undisguised envy as they passed by.
Finally Erybet murmured, “Ready to move on?”
“Eryi.”
He helped her to her feet, and they walked hand in hand from the more central part of the market to the outlying eating and club area.
It was still rather early for the midday meal, and the dining places and clubs were quiet for the most part. One building they passed seemed to be doing steady business, however. The small, unmarked round structure, tucked between two clubs and set back from the square, had plenty of Kalquorian foot traffic. Rachel slowed. When Erybet looked at her questioningly, she nodded towards the unobtrusive building.
“That place? Oh. It’s a pleasure club.”
His grin looked a little embarrassed. Curious, Rachel cocked her head questioningly, asking for more of an explanation.
Erybet shook his head at her inquisitiveness. “Well, you can go in and watch others or let them watch you.”
Rachel gave him wide eyes.
“Yes, having sex.”
Rachel swallowed. She thought about how the men had watched her have sex with each of them the night before, like spectators at a sport. How exciting it had been to be on display for their enjoyment. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only person who enjoyed such a strange quirk.
She wondered what kind of sex the Kalquorians were having in the club. She wondered if she would like watching as much as she liked being watched. She arched an eyebrow at Erybet.
He choked on his own spit. After a couple of coughs, he recovered and said, “I’m not so sure you’d enjoy it, Ray-Ray. It’s almost always men with men since we have so few women.
And the encounters that happen in there are somewhat … extreme.”
Rachel considered. She’d seen Erybet and Conyod kiss passionately and that had been pretty arousing. But what did Erybet mean by extreme encounters?
She asked, So they do stuff like spankings?
“And harsher. It’s all consensual, but given how repressed Earth was, you might become upset over what goes on in such places.”
He might be right, but curiosity was killing Rachel. She really wanted to see what was going on in the pleasure club. The thought of naked Kalquorians doing things with each other, things she never even imagined, had her guts warming in excitement. What would the harm be?
“Krewet?” She tugged at Erybet’s hand and noticed he was just starting to bulge at the crotch.
He looked her over closely. She caught the slight scent of cinnamon coming from him. He did want to take her in there. She had the idea he’d been in a pleasure club more than a few times himself. Had he only watched before or actually participated? Now there was an exciting thought, visualizing Erybet’s gorgeous body on display.
Erybet’s words came slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he should do this. “All right. I’ll take you in to have a look. But the instant it’s too much, let me know. And stay close. I don’t want any other men thinking you’re looking to play with them.”
Rachel’s heart sped up in anticipation. She nodded and they walked up to the club. Erybet opened the door and paused to look into the blackness within. Strange sounds, like movie whip cracks and heavy thuds,
came out of the unfathomable space. Moans and cries, howls and laughter issued forth, mixing agony and gratification.
Apparently satisfied, Erybet tugged her forward. He pulled her close to his side. She entered the interior’s darkness, feeling safe in the curl of his arm.
Coolness hit Rachel’s exposed arms and legs as Erybet escorted her into the pleasure club.
They walked down a dark hallway, and she relied on her Dramok’s superior sight to guide her.
Further down she could see some illumination, a square of dim light.
Halfway to the end, she walked into a wall of Kalquorian arousal scent. The spicy aroma of many men, hungry with lust, sent her senses reeling. Knowing that smell and what it signified had the crotch of her panties wet in an instant. Like Pavlov’s dog, except it’s my pussy salivating, she thought. She bit her lips closed to quell the amusement at herself. What a horny broad she was, she decided.
The sounds of immense pleasure and pain grew louder. There was a humming crackle Rachel knew from her stay in prison. A shockwhip was being used. Her excitement was quelled a little by that knowledge. Who the hell got off by being shockwhipped? Those instruments were pure torture, sending fierce electrical signals through the body as well as flaying flesh wide open. Half a dozen strikes could kill a person.
Her mouth dry, steps slowing, Rachel counted off the strikes, each one followed by shrieks that could have peeled paint off walls. One … two … three … four. A single word of Kalquorian, one Rachel didn’t know, was screamed. The whip strikes stopped. A smattering of applause came from the room ahead.
Erybet’s voice whispered in her ear. “As I said, the Nobeks can go in for some really excessive activities.”
Rachel shuddered. She wasn’t so sure she was going to like this after all. They reached the doorway, and she peered in.
She and Erybet stood on a type of balcony, at the top of a ramp that led down to the room’s floor. The floor was a forest of muscular male Kalquorian bodies, standing and watching the windows that lined the circling wall.
Alien Redemption [Clans of Kalquor 06] Page 28