by Shae Mills
She flinched as she felt Dar's fingers brush her chin. He turned her head back toward him. She kept her eyes down as he pulled himself off the step and crouched down in front of her. Only then was she forced to look at him; his eyes were alight as if fueled by a blue flame.
Dar was now not only taken by her exotic beauty but also by her obvious and totally unexpected degree of intellect. As his eyes slowly covered every inch of her captivating face, he found himself nearly irresistibly drawn to her.
Chelan averted her eyes again, her skin flushing at his brief touch. Quietly, not daring to look at him, she spoke. "I talk too much... I ask too many questions."
"No," he whispered hypnotically. He raised her chin again, but this time he did not take his fingers away. He stared into her deep-brown eyes, every muscle in his body taut. "Perhaps," he began slowly, his eyes coming to rest on her inviting lips, "I have asked too few."
Chelan suddenly felt trapped. He was far too big a man for her to handle. She glanced toward the opening in his jacket, and she held herself deathly still while her eyes confirmed her worst fears. His skin was stretched tightly over massive, well-defined muscles of steel. He outweighed her by almost two hundred pounds, and she shuddered.
Dar leaned into her, fully intent on kissing her pretty mouth, but as he approached he could smell her fear. He had no idea how deep her panic ran, nor did he understand why she would cower under his gentle touch, but he prudently backed off.
Chelan finally summoned the courage to speak, her quavering voice but a whisper. "Just don't hurt me... please."
Dar recoiled. He straightened back from her and released her chin. Only then did he notice the constrained tremors that shook her small body. He watched as she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them defensively.
Dar was perplexed. "Hurt you?" came his quiet query. "Chelan," he called to her. "Chelan," he called again, prodding her to look at him. He rested one hand on the chair beside her and the other on his elevated knee. "Why would I hurt you?"
But he received no response. He lowered his head momentarily, his mind struggling for answers. He looked back up into her glassy eyes. "Chelan," he whispered softly. "How would I hurt you?"
Chelan looked away. She wished that she could avoid his question, and she wished most of all that he would leave her be. But she knew that she had no choice. He was huge, and he could do what he pleased with her, regardless of her fears or wishes. She took a deep breath and returned her eyes to him. "By being rough," she stammered, on the verge of tears.
Dar was still confused. "By being rough?" Then he shook his head, and his eyes widened at a possible explanation. His mind balked, and he became angry with himself for not thinking of her alien culture and for not picking up on her blatant body cues. Why else would she hug herself so tightly in an obvious attempt to protect her body from him. He took a deep breath, "Chelan," he said almost hurriedly. "I would never hurt you, you must believe me."
He waited for a reaction, but obviously she was not convinced. He gently touched her arm, acting on his hunch. "And I would never take you forcefully."
His revelation proved correct. Instantly, she began to breathe again. Dar now knew that there had never been any deeply intimate interactions or discussions between her and Korba, or she would have never been affected so strongly by his advance. But questions still abounded in his mind.
"Chelan," he whispered. He looked deep into her troubled eyes. "Has a man taken you by force?"
Chelan did not have to speak as a solitary tear dropped.
Dar had received his answer, but he was not sure how to react. Slowly, he pushed back on one knee. He rubbed his chin and then stroked his hand through his thick blonde hair. "Chelan," he began, "Our people..." He hesitated. "My culture has never condoned such brutal violations of our women, or any other race's women." He watched her eyes return to his. "In my world," he continued, "any man who commits such an act is instantly executed."
Chelan sat still for a long time while digesting his words. Then her eyes widened. "But..." she stammered. "Weren't any innocent men killed?"
He smiled. "In the beginning, yes. But the law was later changed to protect them."
"How?"
"Well, after the original law was enacted, a few women abused the system by using a government execution in place of murdering the undesirable man in their life. These women falsely cried rape, and a few innocent men died as a result. But public uproar amended the law. Now, if any woman wrongly accuses a man, and she is discovered, she, too, is executed. That soon curtailed the false accusations."
Chelan was silent for a time, her arms relaxing their grip on herself slightly. "That's a pretty harsh punishment."
Dar straightened himself slightly, sitting back on his heels. "It's a pretty harsh crime."
Chelan looked down at the floor between them. "Yes, it is," she said quietly, biting her cheek.
Dar continued to watch her, knowing her mind was not in the present but in some dark corner of her past. He did not interrupt her but allowed her to find her own way back to him. Finally, when she wiped away the remnants of her tears, he spoke. "Chelan, if it eases your mind one way or another, the crime of rape no longer occurs among our people, and there have been no executions for centuries. Uncontrolled violent aggression, mental instability, unbridled emotional outbursts, aberrant sexual urges, and many other violent and abnormal behaviors that can manifest themselves in the form of rape were found long ago to have genetic links. The mind's complexity is beyond imagination, and it is affected by many factors, including genetics, hormones, chemicals, and complex nerve connections. The genetic manipulations and controls imposed upon our race long ago corrected for these abnormalities. Our culture, our beliefs, and our attitudes also come into play, helping to compensate for the odd borderline case. I do not dare to say that rape could not occur at some time, but I will pledge my life to you that it will not occur on this ship by any one of my men. They are the elite product of genetic manipulation and control, and they know full well where to direct their aggression, and they do it with a brutal efficiency beyond all imagination. And it is never directed toward women in the act of rape."
Chelan stared into Dar's blue eyes, suddenly finding a degree of comfort in their unearthly depths. As she calmed, she did not know where to start, which bits of information to process first, and which questions to ask. "In my world," she began, "things are much different. Often, there isn't a day that goes by when a woman doesn't think of such things."
Dar watched her closely. She continued, her voice soft. "You're always conscious of what you wear, wondering if it is too revealing or too attractive. There are areas in every city that a woman would never dare to walk alone, and of course, nights are an added problem."
She chewed at her lip. "Every time you meet a man, you're on your guard, especially when you're alone. Your doors are always locked, and you hesitate every time someone comes to your house if you don't know them. And even when you're expecting someone like a repairman, you wonder if you should let him in."
Chelan looked away from him. "Many young girls are abused by family members and other people in positions of trust. And then there are the other men you know, the men who you think you're safe with when you are dating. But after a few drinks, or when they get you alone, or after they've spent some arbitrary amount of money on you, you find out differently."
Dar hesitated. "And if you resist?"
Chelan shrugged. "Sometimes they get the message. Sometimes not. As with your world, most of our men are generally larger and more powerful. If they decide to force you, sometimes it is wiser to submit."
Dar took in her words, a dark anger seeping into his thoughts and dominating his feelings. He did not know if his rage was directed at such acts in general or directed specifically toward the solitary man who had caused her so much pain. "Do you want to talk about your experience?"
Chelan shook her head emphatically. "No," came her definitive response.
>
Dar nodded and then rose. "Come. Follow me," and he turned and walked up the lower few steps of the Command Center. There, he waited for her.
Chelan stood slowly, regarding him and his extended hand warily. Finally, she moved to him and tentatively accepted his invitation. "Where are we going?"
He smiled at her as he started up the stairs again. "To a quiet little place that I think you'll like." He began leading her toward the workout area. "We need to talk about a few things."
Chelan hustled alongside him, watching her step as he led her through the dimly lit room. Halfway down the workout area he approached the wall, and with a sweep of his hand the wall parted, revealing a small, darkened room. He remained stationary as he urged her forward, still holding her hand tightly.
The lights came up slightly, and Chelan looked around her new surroundings. On the grand scale of everything she had seen so far, this was a relatively small room. It contained a large lounge that Chelan could only describe as an enormous day bed. It was covered in white blankets and was lined with numerous, fluffy white pillows. There was a simple white table with two chairs to her right, and two easy chairs to her left. But what struck her most vividly were the beautiful robin's-egg-blue walls. Chelan suddenly realized that this was the first splash of color she had seen anywhere on the ship, excluding the icy blue depths of the pool, and she found the room serene and inviting.
Dar stepped in behind her and released her hand from his powerful grip. The doors closed silently behind them, and the walls took on an uninterrupted smoothness. "Come on, jump up here, and get comfortable," he said as he leaned across the lounge and clumped some pillows together.
Chelan complied, sinking into the secure softness of the bedding and leaning back on the voluminous cushions. Dar smiled, knowing that she had already accepted most of his words as fact, for she would not have otherwise so readily reclined on his bed nor remained composed as the doors shut, isolating her from everything except him. He traversed the room to the wall where the doors had been. With another wave of the hand, another area of the wall retracted.
Chelan watched him as he poured a blue liquid into two tall, slim glasses. As he removed them from the area, the wall section automatically closed, sealing the opening once again. He returned to the bed and handed one of the glasses to her and then settled himself next to her. She watched as he took a sip of the liquid. "What is it?" she asked.
"It's what you would call a liqueur. It's made from a fruit indigenous to our world. I think you'll like it." He raised his glass to her and smiled.
Chelan hesitated. "On Earth, men can use a drug... they call it a date-rape drug—"
Dar cleared his throat loudly, interrupting her. He took another large drink and raised his glass to her. "Chelan, if I wanted you drugged, I have an infinite number of ways to do it besides offering you a very expensive and fine imported liquor. If I wanted to force myself on you, I could do it in a heartbeat, and if I liked my women unresponsive during sex, I would be a fool." And he nodded to her.
Chelan turned bright red. Closing her eyes, she took a cautious sip. Her eyebrows rose. It was similar to Grand Marnier, she decided, only it had a minty aftertaste. "This is wonderful," she said appreciatively.
Dar leaned back on his pillows and smiled at her. "It's all yours. But be careful, it packs a powerful punch even to us. I'd hate to see what a few too many glasses would do to someone with your body size."
Chelan finally smiled warmly at him, and for the first time since she had lain eyes on the blonde god, she felt at ease with him.
Dar looked down at his glass and spoke. "Chelan, I'm going to tell you more about our people and our interpersonal relations. It will prove invaluable to you, possibly in the very near future." Dar looked over at her. "In my world, men simply do not take what they want from a woman. It is just never done. I don't need to tell you what a beautiful woman you are. You would turn the heads of my men wherever you went, and there is nothing wrong with that, and it is nothing that you should be embarrassed about. But most important, there is nothing to be afraid of."
Dar paused and watched her carefully as she stared down at her glass. He continued. "You could, at some time in the future, go anywhere in this ship, alone, day or night, and not one of my men would ever take you against your will. Do you understand that?"
Chelan looked at him and watched as his stern features slowly faded into a smile. He shifted onto his side toward her with one knee drawn up. "On the other hand," he added, "because of your attractiveness, I can guarantee that you will be propositioned, and at times bluntly. If you do not care to participate, a simple no ends the matter right there."
Chelan looked back at her drink in quiet contemplation. Then she pushed herself up into a sitting position and faced him directly. She crossed her legs under her dress and made herself comfortable. "On Earth... a lot of men think no means yes. They think that it just means that the woman is playing coy or playing some sort of game. Some men even think that women like to be forced."
Dar shook his head slowly. "Here, no is no," he said softly.
Chelan looked deep into his eyes, and then looked down the line of his jaw, past the long blonde hair, to the opening in his jacket. "What would happen to you if you took someone by force?" she asked, instantly embarrassed at her own brashness.
Dar's answer was immediate. "I would receive the same death sentence as others."
Chelan's mouth gaped. "Even in your position?"
Dar smiled. "Warlords are not exempt from the Empire's laws."
"Wow," she whispered incredulously. "Where I come from, if you have power and wealth, you can get away with all manner of things." Chelan raised her glass to Dar. "I guess we're not as civilized as we would like to think we are or wish we were," and she took a sip of her drink.
Dar was quiet. No wonder she had been so afraid of him in the Command Center. To be alone with an unfamiliar male like she was now but in an abduction situation... Dar flinched. He looked along her slender frame. He was almost triple her weight, and she would have no chance against him, even armed. Suddenly, he empathized with her feelings and fears, and he gained a fresh insight as to how he should treat her, and why.
Chelan took a deep breath as she fiddled with her glass. She hesitated and then asked, "Has Korba been with many women?"
Dar wondered where she had gotten that query from; her mental gymnastics surprised him. But he answered honestly. "Oh, several hundred, I would guess."
Chelan nearly choked on her drink, and she turned quickly away, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She felt ill.
Dar sat upright. "Chelan, what's wrong?"
"I should have expected as much," she said, throwing Dar a strained smile. "I suppose the old double standard is alive and well in space, too."
Dar was stumped. "Double standard?" he questioned. The look on Chelan's face caused his blood to run cool. "I don't understand."
"You know, where Korba's probably considered a fine stud for all his conquests, and the women he's had are considered disreputable."
Dar was still having trouble with her terminology, or maybe it was the concept. Either way, he chose to keep quiet.
Chelan was exasperated. "Don't you see what I mean?"
"Actually, no, I don't."
Chelan tried to find a way to clarify her point. Suddenly, she looked back at Dar and smirked. "So then, tell me, how many men has Marri been with?"
"Marri's one of the Empire's prime breeding females, and she's a beautiful woman. She has borne numerous fine children, and our men find her immensely attractive." Dar looked across the room and shrugged. "I'm really not sure how many men she has favored. She has worked under Korba's command, not mine, and he would be more privy to her exploits than I." He returned his puzzled gaze to Chelan. "I couldn't hope to give you an accurate number, but I can safely say that the total number would be far more than the number of women than either Korba or I have had."
Chelan's jaw dropp
ed. Dar could only look at her, hoping that she would get around to making her original point.
Finally, she roused herself from her stupor. "Do you find her attractive?"
"Yes, I do," came his guarded response.
"Would it bother you to sleep with her?"
"No, why should it?"
Chelan leaned back from him, her voice quiet. "It wouldn't bother you that she's been with so many other men?"
Dar finally caught up with her train of thought, and a smile broke across his face. "No, it would not bother me, Chelan. It makes no difference. Why should it?"
Chelan turned from him in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm afraid I'm out of line again."
"No, you're not. We have simply hit upon another of our cultural differences." He took Chelan by the shoulders and turned her back to him. "You see," he began, "on Iceanea, men and women are equal in every sense of the word. No man or woman is excluded from any aspect of work or pleasure on the basis of gender." He hesitated. "I guess you could say that the most sexist realm in our world is right here on this ship. There are genetic differences between us on the basis of strength. Therefore, the majority of the warship's crew is made up of men. But by no means are woman discouraged. If they live up to the strength requirements and can hold their own in combat, then they are admitted. In areas such as aviation, where strength is not a limiting factor with our fighters, roughly half of our pilots are women, and they are excellent. The same attitudes extend into our private lives. It does not matter how many men our women bed, and vice versa. It is simply not an issue."
Chelan fidgeted, feeling a little foolish and wondering if she should continue or not. But she took the plunge. "On Earth, men in our society are often encouraged to go out and sleep around. It is supposed to make them more of a man, more experienced. Groups of men will get together and talk about their conquests and the number of women they have had sex with. For girls, however, it is just the opposite."