Feral Series V: Feral Foretaste

by Skhye Moncrief

  "Families. Mostly the elders, warriors who have been mated for centuries."

  Interesting. “If they've been mated so long, why aren't there more warriors?"

  "!Dakos have a limit on the number of children we may produce.” He turned a sharp corner, leading us into a sparsely populated section of corridor.

  Three !Dako warriors wore the !Dako silver pants and forearm cuffs where they somewhat huddled, turning to our approach. Each sported a different hairstyle like the Five Fathers had back aboard Anwa. The males snapped to attention, managed a synchronized bow, then straightened their spines, gazes fixed upon us.

  Vult strode toward the males.

  Apparently, he wasn't required to reciprocate the bow. Fine. Probably because he had his sacred seed. But why did the !Dakos restrict reproduction?

  Vult's towering black-cloaked form led me past the observant trio.

  "I don't understand,” I whispered.

  He turned his pointed nose at me. “What?"

  "Why do you limit the number of offspring warriors may produce?"

  "The issue is more a byproduct of training immortals. Warriors must be disciplined to accept that they are liable for their actions."

  What? !Dakos liable?

  We continued through pockets of shadow and past sunlit windows. “But the rest of the universe thinks your people are reckless."

  Vult didn't offer that point a glance. “They will understand us soon enough.” He flashed his silver gaze my direction. “Because you will reveal all we are to them."

  A shiver skittered down my arms.

  The hairs on my neck popped to chilly attention.

  Vult pointed toward a silver door with his nose. “Here is the infirmary."

  The door swooshed open like we were still in outer space.

  Two silver tables, cold sterile metal, awaited our arrival. Or whoever fancied a trip to Rat Lab Central. No probes or jolt-o-meters, please.

  Vult is on my side. My protector. Why was I wasting brain cells on fear? Vult's undying attention toward me reflected I had no reason to worry. Even though my gut did somersaults.

  A redheaded warrior in silver pants and forearm cuffs entered a doorway at the end of the room. “Father.” He nodded at Vult and made his way to the closest examination table and stared me down with the interest of a patron at a flea circus.

  And I was the bearded lady. Ugh. Examination. That's right. Joy.

  Vult nudged me forward with gentle pressure at my lower back.

  No probes in the eye or anus, please, universe. So, how could I avoid the table? I sat upon it before my mind registered a different level of alarm.

  "Goddess, no harm will come to you,” Vult said calmly. “This is Yirt. He has treated huv'rias for centuries. Please relax. He understands the variation among species of humanoids and will be able to determine if you are ill."

  For some reason, it didn't matter that my mate could detect my body's reaction to the metal bar in the rat's cage. “Um, I don't care for medical examinations.” I managed a weak cheesy grin. Good thing he couldn't read my mind.

  His palm curled around my shoulder and forced me backward beneath his amethyst gaze.

  On my back, Yirt looked even more intimidating. Maybe the black leather binding his long queue suddenly dangling over his shoulder made him more sinister? I don't know. But I don't like the little wand he's holding over my head. Especially when a beam of light showered down upon my cranium full of my precious brain cells! That magic wand screamed danger.

  "Goddess.” Vult's warm palm draped my forehead. “The device will quickly scan your body to determine if you've contracted a pathogen."

  Why was I so panicked? “Okay.” Just another weak reply. God, couldn't I shut up?

  Yirt slowly worked down to my toes with his scanner while Vult's silver eyes watched me where he hovered.

  Attentively.

  Yirt stepped away with his wand.

  "Was that so difficult?” my mate asked.

  Yes. “I guess not.” Sometimes I could be extremely retarded. Like when nanites could jack with my DNA. I shoved into a sitting position.

  Vult's gloved hand cupped my cheek. He leaned close enough to touch the tip of his nose to mine. “It's over.” He choked back a smile.

  "That's so not funny when you're on the other end of his scanner. And back up a step or two. I smell bacon. I wouldn't want there to be an infamous incident rumored to have occurred in the infirmary."

  One corner of his mouth curled in amusement. “Oh, Goddess, that would be anything but a rumor."

  Something told me to bite my tongue.

  "The Goddess carries two female embryos."

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  Chapter Ten

  Pregnant on a planet where daughters are born the mutants wasn't something I could gulp down easily. No, the lump stuck in my craw like a huge honking chunk of rodent feed. Greenish brown. The cylindrical bits I always thought couldn't have a speck of nutritional value. Oh well. Spare me the heimlich maneuver. Maybe I'd suffocate. This nightmare would end then.

  "You look far worse now than you did before I helped you onto the examination table,” Vult said.

  The squeak of Yirt's black boots heralded his timely departure.

  Alone with Vult. Okay. I can deal with this. I slid my gaze to my big strapping extraterrestrial's gaze. The guy whose poison changed my reality forever. “I had an implant. One that ensured I wouldn't get pregnant for five years. Just last March. It should have worked for at least another four and a half years."

  He sighed so audibly anyone in earshot would have fancied the sound a groan.

  "Cassie, nanites negate such devices."

  Hell, we'd only been sexually active a handful of days. “But if my birth control was deactivated, how could I have gotten pregnant when we'd had sex for less than a week?"

  He watched me as if he calculated the risk in answering my question.

  Did I want to know more?

  Could I handle more answers?

  Vult's concerned mask twisted with awareness.

  Was that a reaction to my fear? Maybe my dread at carrying his child struck him hard and stung?

  He straightened his shoulders and studied me with the patience I seemed to have lost. “Pregnancy is a gift. A blessed event—"

  "Not when I'm going to give birth to something that looks terribly wrong. Twice over. Two female embryos. Yirt spoke English, Vult."

  "Now it's even more imperative we resolve the genetic issues tormenting !Dakos.” He waved a palm toward the door.

  We walked back to our purple personal quarters without another word. Vult neatly bowed and departed. And I sat on the foot of the bed for what seemed like an echoing eternity. If only a clock had ticked in the stillness. Broken my crazy solitude. If I could have just had someone to yell at. Something to help me deal with my problem.

  Pregnancy.

  Since when did lab rats have a choice in the matter? I guess I grabbed my choice back when I signed on for Marshal service. But life was supposed to be about choices. Why wasn't I being handed another one each day? Come on, universe. It's time to throw more at me. Give me something to play with here. Make life tougher.

  Pregnancy had to top out my list of tough.

  Where did that leave me? With absolutely no wiggle room. And I'd probably insulted my mate. My ally. He'd really gone out of his way to treat me well. Had I screwed up everything I had with him?

  Coucilor Hirm nodded one slow nod where he and I stood alone in the Council's meeting room. “Maybe the !Dakos require a powerful female to instigate the difficult changes ahead of us, Father?"

  "I thank you for your concern. But my mate dreads the task she has been sent to perform. Pregancy has only heightened her struggle to resolve the problems we !Dakos require of her. I would appreciate it if the Council would leave the Goddess’ situation to me. She is mine alone to contend with. Any meddling on another's part will only disrespect me."

>   Hirm nodded his squared jaw and blinked slowly. “We mean no disrespect, Father. You are as important to the !Dakos as the Goddess. Her mental anguish shall be duly noted. Please inform us of anything we can do to assist you in your quest to find your huv'ria some solace. The Council is here for the people. In turn, we are here to serve the Goddess."

  No argument? Why was Hirm backing away from this battle? Councilors were chosen because of their aggressiveness.

  "I must depart now.” Hirm bowed, his bare chest canting forward until he ceremoniously halted, bent ninety degrees at the waist.

  Such humbling body language. The Council was up to something.

  Hirm rose, flicked his violet gaze at me, and left me standing absolutely alone before the enormous picture of Anwa hung above the conference table.

  Yes, alone. Why? To struggle with my dilemma? Did they view my battle as one no other warrior could win? And how could I succeed? My mate had no desire to carry my seed. Sacred Seed. The only way to handle the situation would be to give her freedom from the pheromones. Allow her to view herself as being in control.

  To relinquish the hold I have on her.

  Would she fight me? Refuse to mate? She'd already revealed her disgust with her pregnancy. Turning off my pheromones could be detrimental to the !Dakos. I can't risk it yet. Not until I know she will complete her duty. Only a fool would act so foolishly and destroy the hopes of his people. Then if she wishes to abandon me, so be it. I can accept that future. Yes. Anwa chose me because of my strength. Perhaps Cassie knew the Goddess would require a mate who could release her in the end. Until the end, I must remain steadfast. And enjoying my time with my soul wouldn't be so wrong.

  My huv'ria waited for me in our personal quarters. Her feminine curves suited the opulence of a Father's private space where she stood facing my approach at the foot of the bed. Although the spark in her eyes had vanished when she learned of her pregnancy. I'd help light that spark once again. The !Dakos needed it to burn. But how?

  "I worried you wouldn't return.” She forced a smile.

  Unlike the feisty female I'd mated. “I was summoned to meet with the Council."

  Her stiff body softened, deflating as if she sighed, while those eyes widened every-so-slightly.

  Was that a sign she'd truly feared I had gone for good? I claimed a space two steps from her. “A warrior afraid to face his huv'ria, especially the Godess, is no warrior."

  A true smile danced upon her beautiful features.

  She didn't see the purpose in having !Dako children. No. Only the fear in birthing Drods. My duty is to help her find the joy in her most sacred state of existence. “No warrior can fight the battle a huv'ria can win, Cassie."

  Her dark eyebrows pinched slightly. “Are you talking about maintaining your soul?"

  "No.” I wagged my head and paced off to stand at her elbow. “No, Cassie."

  Her questioning mask begged I continue.

  "We warriors live to fight for the existence of our people. We cannot succeed without our mates."

  Her mask metamorphosed into an emotionless stare.

  What thoughts did it conceal?

  "Am I a prisoner here, Vult?"

  Why did everything circle back to my accursed pheromones? But her commander brought her to the !Dakos. The Order of the Marshals left her with Anwa to affect change. To bring the !Dakos peace. I must find something to ease her mind. Her soul. To awaken the feisty warrior within my Goddess. Until then, all I have helping me keep my huv'ria with me is my pheromones. Was it truly the same for the other huv'rias? “There is something I want to show you."

  Vult had become the kind and considerate warrior I'd grown fond of during our two days full of bonding back on Anwa. Why the sudden change? Maybe he'd calmed down from the trader attack? Could I blame him for being on edge? He claimed I was his soul. And I carried his children. Yes. I'm now a womb. Lordy! Lordy! Stop traffic. Send out a newsflash to Earth. Cassie is preggers.

  Shit. I kept up with Vult's leisurely but long stride through the clean corridor back up to sunlit passageways painted with scenes from the countryside.

  Okay, I can just follow him wherever he's leading. This part of the compound is awfully beautiful. And Vult decided we had no need of an extra guard. So, this is an adventure. A safe jaunt across a cyborg planet. No problem. Hopefully no more surprises. After the last trip, geesh, this lab rat's jolted body could have been manhandled a variety of ways and I'd be none the wiser. Just a limp shocked body laying beside my cage's electric lever.

  Stop thinking, Cassie.

  We stepped out beneath the lemonade sky into a maze of square beige stone buildings and winding pavement. A deserted place. “Where are all the !Dakos?"

  He tossed me an attentive expression that could have melted away any residual resentment I harbored with his perfect square jaw and silver eyes. “Warriors have duties."

  But nobody graced this compound. City. Or whatever a cyborg fancied his neighborhood. “But I don't see even one person out here. That's just strange."

  "The huv'rias spend their days tending to things best left to a female."

  Laundry? Scrubbing toilets? Changing diapers! Why did that sound so unappealing? “What about meeting !Dako officials? Or touring the planet? I am an ambassador. Shouldn't I be learning about the !Dako world?"

  He waved me toward the closed metal gate on a long beige stone wall. “I want you to see how the other huv'rias live."

  Well, the sun was warm. The yellow sky clear of threat. Why not fritter away the day? I acquiesced and found the gate squealing as it swung wide, leaving me to gaze upon a beautiful enourmous courtyard.

  Women dressed in every manner of attire were everywhere.

  Standing between statues and large pots filled with spilling vegetation. Lounging on steps and the thick stone containing flower beds. Sitting at the edge of a long rectangular pool with their feet dangling in the glistening water. Huv'rias. All of them gaping at me.

  "It was so quiet.” I managed, scanning the field of wonder-filled faces. “I had no idea they were here."

  "The garden is large. The distance deadens their chatter. Come now. Let us speak with the others."

  His strong palm maneuvered my lower back through the gateway toward women who looked no older than Vult. “They're changed. With the nanites,” I whispered.

  "Yes."

  He said nothing else as if he had no wish to discuss my becoming a cyborg. But the way the women, all somehow completely beautiful regardless of their differences, swarmed toward me in their variety of tops, skirts, and shiny accoutrements meant the huv'rias had every intention of discussing my crossing over into cyborg-dom.

  The first female to approach, a short dark-haired vixen with the starkissed sparkles dusting her cheeks, eyelids, and lips, paused before us in orange long flowing orange skirt and yellow form-fitting halter-like top, preventing the forward movement of the female pack at the heels of her bronze sandals. Her blue gaze locked on mine.

  She could have been born on Earth. But something told me she wasn't from my home world. Oh, yes. It was Theone who said the !Dakos had yet to see an earthling. But these women could have walked down any Main Street heading for a designer debute's of clothing or costume party.

  The female's gaze flicked to Vult. “Father,” she barely nodded a bow and focused back on me. “This is the Goddess?"

  Why wouldn't the entire population know Vult's mate was their legendary Goddess by now? !Dakos could notifiy everyone of anything with one impulse like telepaths. And I'd be oblivious to any such news.

  Living among the cyborgs was going to keep me on my toes.

  "Yes. The Goddess is from a planet called Earth."

  "Like Flonn's huv'ria?” the dark-haired female noted.

  Vult shifted his footing at my side. “This is Zoxni, Cassie. She is mated to a Councilor."

  Zoxni smiled divinely.

  Why shouldn't her smiles be divine? Hell, she's immortal. “Zoxni.” I mimi
cked her little bow.

  The female throng pulsed, flooding, engulfing us completely.

  Every kind of variation on skin color, hairstyle, and eye color composed that wall of curious masks. Some had spots. Others were tall and lithe. Each had curves. Feminine curves. Apparently, that lovely aspect of womanhood spanned the universe. Vult and I needed to discuss why humanoids looked so damned human.

  "Zoxni, will you be so kind as to show the Goddess around the huv'ria courtyard. I'm at a loss for what keeps you so busy here during the day."

  The massive huddle murmured with chirping giggles as if it were a large single-celled organism.

  Strange. Almost threatening. Hopefully, it wouldn't devour me.

  Zoxni extended a four-fingered palm. “As you wish, Father."

  Something slightly unsettling bothered me about Vult's title. But he wasn't my father. No. And assessing huv'ria life didn't require I hold a helping hand. Forget that. Besides, I could accidentally think wrong and zap someone into a pile of mush. I ignored Zoxni's palm and stepped toward her.

  Zoxni dropped her hand with a genuine grin and shoved through the shoulders behind her. “The children are with their guardians a while longer,” she announced. “Allow me to introduce you to the others."

  What the hell? I could learn a lot without Vult hovering. I followed her down the stone steps leading into the courtyard.

  Toward the reflection pool. What would the reflection I see reveal? With whatever unraveled around me, who knew? The children needed guardians! Probably given the reproductive rate of these people. Although, they had some sort of restrictions on reproductivity. Those details were still fuzzy. Vult would have to expand on that aspect of !Dako life. If he could keep his bacon to himself long enough to let me insist he cough up the information.

  Children restricted.

  What a planet. But restricting numbers of offspring however they managed the feat wasn't any different than using implants like mine—birth control Vult's nanites negated. I should not give him sex to show him how I really feel. Betrayed. Tricked into incubating his little !Dakos. Females. Boy what a bomb to drop in my lap. I doubt he planned on daughters. Would he if he could have? At least the !Dakos didn't have a choice between sons or daughters, leaving the sex of offspring out of the question.