by Cynthia Sax
“You created this space for her?” His mother stepped away from the shadows of the simulated reality room, her fur-covered form a foot taller than his human form.
Trake didn’t answer. He removed his boots, rolled off his black socks and buried his feet in the sand, the particles filling the gaps between his toes.
His mother huffed, the blue fur around her mouth lifting. “What happened on Earth, Trakesur? You return home joined to a human, without your One, without your brother, and you immediately resign from the job you lived for.”
“There will be other jobs.” Trake walked, leaving his shoes and his hopes behind him.
“Of course.” His mother padded beside him, shells crunching under her dog-like soles, her long tail sweeping the sand. “You’re the best and the private companies are already courting you, but that doesn’t matter to me. You’re not happy.”
“I’ll survive,” he assured her. Cool water lapped at his toes, tickling his skin. Lori would laugh. Trake’s lips twitched. She’d run along the beach, her hand in mine, and laugh that bubbly laugh of hers.
And everything would be perfect.
“Surviving isn’t enough, Son.” His mother frowned, flashing her long canine teeth. “Where is your One? Protocol dictates she be transferred to Orogone.”
“I violated protocol.”
His mother inhaled sharply. “What did you say?”
“I violated protocol.” Trake picked up a rock and flicked it across the water. It collided with the frothy crest of a wave and disappeared into the simulated sea. “And I broke my vow to you. I didn’t bring back Bren. I’m sorry for that.”
“You must have had a good reason.” His mother, the only other female he’d ever loved, sounded as lost and confused as he felt.
Trake chose a flatter rock for his second throw. It skipped three times before sinking. “I did what I thought was right.”
They walked in silence. Trake focused on the hole in his self where his innermost soul had been. Empty. He closed his fingers around a rock, pressing the sharp edges into his skin, striving to feel something, anything, even if it was pain.
His mother laid her furry arm on his, her claws pricking his fragile human skin. “Was it the right decision for you, for your One?”
Right? It doesn’t feel right. Trake gazed up at the blue sky. Each white fluffy cloud had been carefully crafted for Lori, to make her smile. “I’m giving her choice…as father gave you a choice.”
“As your father gave me a choice?” His mother barked with laughter. “Your father announced I was his One, swung me over his shoulder and stole the nearest single-pilot ship, violating protocol and three peace agreements.” She shook her hairy head. “I wasn’t pleased with his primitive courting, not at all. I called him every foul name in my very extensive vocabulary and broke eight fingers in his right hand.”
“You didn’t want to join with father?” Trake stopped short, Lori’s fantasy world tilting under his bare feet. “You love him.”
“I love him more than life. I always have but I was scared. I’m not as fearless as I look.” His mother smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming in the simulated sunlight. “When is your One making her choice?”
“In one Earth day.” Trake dropped the rock, his stomach twisting. “I’ve made a mistake.”
“And in two Earth days, you’ll fix that mistake.” His mother hugged him to her furry chest, her presence large and solid and comforting, her musky scent reminding Trake of childhood and simpler times, when everything was possible. “One of the private companies courting you must have a single-pilot ship you can borrow.”
I’ll fix my mistake. Purpose filled Trake’s remaining soul. “I’ll negotiate for that perk tonight.” He peered at the artificial horizon, seeing a future with the woman he loved and a lifetime of laughter and happiness. Wait as you promised, Lori. I’m coming for you.
* * * * *
“There has to be a hole in it somewhere.” Lori strode along the fenced perimeter. The gate to the underground bunker grounds had been locked and no one had answered her bellows, causing Lori to resort to a more nefarious means of entry. “No holes. I’m not that lucky.” The steel wire was in perfect condition. “Someone must have replaced the fence.” She frowned, surveying the massive barrier.
“If I can’t go through the fence, then I’ll crawl under it.” She yanked on the chain-link, pulling the wire out of the dirt. She tugged and tugged and tugged and didn’t uncover the bottom of the fence.
“Oh hell.” Lori released the wire and the fence snapped back into place. “That’s not going to work.” She gazed upward, knowing what she had to do and not liking it, not one bit. “Over the fence, it has to be then.” She climbed, grasping the wire with her fingers and sticking the toes of her sneakers in the diamond-shaped spaces.
“Only for you, Trake.” Lori scaled the fence slowly and carefully, the wire digging into her fingers. “You’d better not make any wisecracks about fickle human love after this,” She cursed out her missing alien, wherever he might be. Lori hauled her plus-sized body over the top of the fence. The poles swayed. Her jean-clad ass hung in the air.
“Let go.” Lori tugged on the denim. Fabric ripped and she tumbled to the ground, landing face-first in the soft grass.
She spit twigs and leaves out of her mouth, tasting soil and sap. “Only for you, Trake.” Dogs barked excitedly in the distance.
“Guard dogs, of course.” She pushed away from the ground and rose to her feet, her muscles screaming in protest. “Wouldn’t want this to be easy.” The barking grew louder, and Lori ran, making a beeline for the underground bunker, the former make-out hotspot of every teenager in Pearl Falls.
Her lungs ached. Her curves bounced painfully. Lori pumped her arms, sprinting at a speed she hadn’t before thought herself capable of.
Misjudging the distance, she tripped over retaining wall and stumbled into the entrance, grazing her right knee on the concrete, the pain scorching across her skin. Shit. She bent over, resting her hands on her thighs, inhaling deeply and exhaling, catching her breath.
This must be the right place. Lori straightened, noting the reinforced walls and the cameras scanning the area. Making no attempt to hide, she limped to the metal door, and tried the handle. Locked.
She knocked, the door solid steel under her knuckles, upgraded since her adolescent visits. “Any minute now.” Lori smoothed down her all black outfit, frowned at the multiple tears in her jeans, one on her hip, the other on her knee, and she waited.
“I know you’re in there.” She huffed, miffed by the delay. “There’s no use pretending you’re not.” She looked up at the camera above the door. “I know.”
The door creaked open, and a massive man dressed in army-green fatigues stepped out, his gun trained on Lori. He scowled at her, his eyebrows lowered and his brown eyes glinting with fierce emotion.
“Don’t shoot.” She held her hands high. “I come in peace.” Lori grinned at her own joke. The man’s pissed-off expression didn’t change. “I want to volunteer for your experiments.”
“You’re a civilian in a top secret military facility,” he informed her, clipping each word off with distaste. “Please exit the premises immediately.” He peered behind her and squinted, his finger caressing the trigger of his gun.
Lori turned around. There was no one there, the concrete path bare. The soldier aimed over her shoulder, his body lowering, his fidgeting making her even more nervous.
“Hi there.” She waved her fingers, regaining his attention. “I don’t know if you heard me but I want to volunteer for the Orogone experiment. Where do I sign up?”
“The Orogone experiment.” The soldier scanned her form, his gaze pausing on her hair, her full breasts, and her even fuller hips. Lori smiled, trying to look as experiment-worthy as possible. “Wait here.” He backed into the bunker. The door slammed between them.
“All righty then. I’ll just stand here.” She lowered her hands. Wind bent
the branches of the giant maple trees surrounding the bunker, the leaves rustling. Lori gazed up at the cloud-filled sky. Is Trake thinking of me? Does he miss me as I miss him?
The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She stiffened.
“I’m being watched.” She pivoted. The path leading to the bunker was empty. “Of course, I’m being watched.” Lori laughed self-consciously. “There are cameras every where. This is a top secret military facility.” We’ve never successfully transferred a human soul. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “God, I hope they’ve fixed the transfer thingy.”
The door creaked open. A tall, willowy woman exited, a white medical jacket flapping around her thighs, a weapon resembling Trake’s space gun in her well-manicured hands. “Where is your One?” She tilted her head, her blonde ponytail bouncing. Her eyes were shielded by dark sunglasses.
“He went home,” Lori answered in the same strange language. She slapped her hand over her mouth, perturbed at being so easily tricked.
“That’s where you belong also.” The breathtakingly beautiful woman pursed her pink lips. “Why haven’t you returned with him? Why do you torment your One? I’m told to be apart from our One resembles an endless death for us. You must sense that.”
With every cell in my body. “I’m trying to join him.” Lori rolled her eyes. “But I’m human and—”
“You were human.” She reached out and yanked on Lori’s shirt. Buttons popped. Fabric ripped, exposing her tattoo, the ink as vivid as the day she joined with Trake and the design appeared. “You’re now Orogone.” She waved her hand, her fingers slender and tipped with perfect pink nails. “And the transfer is easy. There’s no need for your One to suffer.”
He’s suffering. Lori cringed as she gathered the edges of her torn blouse together, Trake’s pain hers. “Can you do that for me? Transfer me?” She took the woman’s hand, her skin inhumanly hot. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please?”
The alien woman pulled her hand away. “That isn’t protocol.”
Fuck protocol. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? The Orogone version of a doctor?” Lori asked, desperate for her help. The Orogone woman nodded. “Earth doctors take a vow to save lives and ease pain,” she babbled, uncertain if that was the truth or something she’d heard once on TV. “If you transferred me, you’d be easing my One’s pain.”
The doctor turned her head. A muscle in her cheek pulsed. Lori waited, impatient for a decision but sensing the doctor wasn’t a woman she should push.
The beautiful blonde sighed. “We make a similar vow to eliminate pain and this vow supersedes protocol.” She slid the lever forward on her space gun. “I will be reprimanded for this,” she muttered, lowering her head. “Again.”
“You’re becoming more of a rebel than I am, little sis,” a familiar voice, originating behind Lori, teased. “I like it.”
Lori turned. Trake’s friend Raff leaned against the wall, a space gun in his hand, one of his legs crossed over the other casually at the ankle.
“I should have known she was your assignment.” The doctor flipped back her white coat and holstered her gun. “Don’t you take anything seriously?”
“Why?” The warrior grinned. “You take things seriously enough for all of us. By the way, Mom wants to know when she’ll have grandchildren. She’s not getting any younger, Essie.” He shook his index finger.
“Stop calling me that.” His sister pressed her lips together. “And do your damn job.” She stomped inside the bunker and slammed the door shut, shutting out Lori’s best chance at joining Trake.
Raff laughed. “She misses her big brother. That’s why I asked for this assignment. That and because I’d follow the Commander, your Trake, anywhere.” His humor dissipated and his mouth flattened. “If you die, he dies. Did he tell you that?” He grabbed Lori’s arm and dragged her away from the bunker.
“I…I thought it was a figure of speech.” I could have killed Trake. Lori’s palms moistened.
“The Commander isn’t known for using figures of speech,” Raff remarked dryly. “Before he met you, I’d never heard him laugh.” Dogs barked. “Why are you here, Lori? You risked your life climbing that fence. If I hadn’t cut the power, the electricity in the top wires would have fried your ass.”
God. She gulped. “I…I wanted to volunteer for the experiments. Trake told me about them.”
Raff looked sharply at her. “Did he tell you they were unsuccessful? That the humans arrived alive but scrambled? Quivering masses of flesh and bone and nerves? Suffering from pain we wouldn’t wish on our worst enemies?”
Quivering masses of flesh and bone and nerves. Lori’s body temperature plummeted, and her knees buckled under her. She clung to Raff’s arm to prevent from falling. “He said they were unsuccessful.”
“And you decided to risk it anyway.” He moved as quietly as Trake did, his footsteps silent on a path strewn with twigs and debris.
The gate swung open. Lori lifted her gaze to the top of the fence she’d scaled mere minutes ago. A maple leaf snapped and sizzled in the electric current, its edges curling and turning brown.
Lori gulped and nodded. “To get back to Trake, yes, I’d risk death. “
Raff barked with laughter. “You’re fearless.” He opened the passenger door of his sports car, and she squeezed into the bucket seat, the car uncomfortably low.
“You might, just might, be worthy of the Commander.” Raff shut the door and rounded the hood, lovingly skimming the impeccable finish with his fingertips.
Lori glanced at the fence. Nothing remained of the leaf. She shivered.
Raff filled the driver’s seat. “He’s a good man, the Commander, the best person I’ve ever met.” The engine purred to life.
“I know,” she agreed quietly, subdued by her near-death experience.
“He saved my life, not once but twice, risking his own.” Raff drove as quickly as he talked, swerving the sports car in and out of traffic. A truck honked. An elderly woman flipped him the finger. Lori fastened her seatbelt.
“The first time, I was a new recruit,” Raff shared, seemingly unaware of the chaos he created around him. “He was my commander and I was merely a faceless soldier who had gotten his dumb ass cut off from his squadron. I thought I was dead but I hadn’t counted on the Commander.”
Memories flashed through Lori’s mind. Smoke filled her nostrils. Heat licked at her skin. The whine of gunfire arced over her head, lighting up a forest-green sky. She waded through thick waist-deep liquid, her heavy gun lifted high, the bulging muscles in all four of her arms aching. Perspiration dripped down her scale-covered cheeks.
Must reach soldier.
A smaller alien huddled by the charred remains of a wall. One of his legs gushed red blood, and his body shook. Dark forms surrounded him.
Too many to defeat.
She moved faster, exiting from the pool. Her boots sloshed on the debris-covered ground, weighed down by the wetness. She shot at the approaching enemy and ducked the return fire, rolling and lurching forward.
“Shoot, soldier,” she bellowed, her voice deep. “Shoot your damn weapon or we’ll both die.”
Lori shook the images from her mind. Raff stared at the road in front of them, mindlessly shifting gears. The vehicle gained speed. Trees and buildings blurred together.
He’s driving too fast. She dug her fingernails into her jean-covered thighs and focused on the conversation. “Trake knew he was risking his life, but he couldn’t leave you behind.”
Pain pricked her heart. “So why did he leave me behind?” Lori stared out the window, blinking back tears. “Why would he prefer this agony?” She touched the tattoo on her chest, his emotions layered on hers, compounding her grief. “Over being with me?”
“He wanted you to have a choice.”
Raff yanked on the steering wheel and jammed the brakes. The sports car spun, tires squealing on the pavement. Lori braced for impact, holding onto the dashboard. The vehicle slid to a stop, perfectly p
arked in front of her house. She breathed heavily. Her heart pounded. Bile rose in her throat.
Raff laughed. “Fuck, I love this means of transport.” He patted the steering wheel.
“He wanted me to have a choice?” Lori repeated, Raff’s answer confusing her. “Trake didn’t ask me. He left. How is that giving me a choice?” She smoothed the fingernail marks grooved into the black leather dashboard.
“He’s my commander.” Raff shrugged. “I don’t question his orders…much.” He drew his space gun. “Do you have things to do before you transfer?”
Quivering masses of flesh and bone and nerves. Fear mixed with her anticipation. “No,” Lori forced her response. “I said my good-byes and updated my will. I didn’t think I’d return back from the bunker.” She unfastened her seatbelt.
“Smart girl.” Raff glanced at his gun and then at his car’s immaculate interior. “Can we do this outside?”
Men and their cars. “Of course.” Lori climbed out of the tiny car, shook the kinks out of her legs, and wandered to the middle of the lawn, the ground uneven under her sneakers. Behind her loomed the dilapidated house her grandmother had never allowed her to repair, a building she’d always considered temporary shelter, a place to wait until someone returned for her.
No more waiting. Lori raised her chin, knowledge of Trake’s pain strengthening her resolve. I’m leaving to be with him.
“Do I stand here?” she asked Raff. She put her hands on her hips, feeling awkward and unsure. “Or is the sidewalk a better place?” Lori crossed her arms, not liking that position any better.
“There’s fine.” Raff fiddled with his gun. “Unless you’d prefer to run?” A smile spread across his boyish face. “Running is fun and I’m a good shot. You might like it.”
“I’ve done enough running for today. I think I’ll stand.” She shifted her weight from her right foot to her left foot and back again as Raff juggled his gun.
He slowly unwrapped a lollipop, gave it two long licks, and then studied it…and studied it…and studied it. Lori’s nerves reached breaking point.