by Ruby Dixon
He waves at me. “Follow, please.”
I glance between him and the female. I’m not sure I want to go with him. The female is taller than I am, and leaner, but I have more of a chance to take her down than him. The male’s easily twice my size.
“I wouldn’t try it,” the woman says. “I didn’t take the shock collar off you.” Her smile is thin and unamused. “I’m not stupid.”
I reach up and sure enough, the awful collar is still around my neck. I feel another burst of helpless anger. I’d growl at them if I thought it’d do any good. With this thing on, though, they can disable me with the touch of a button. I hate them. I hate it.
I hate these blue people that pretend to be nice but it doesn’t reach their eyes. It’s like they’re going through the motions of being polite but there’s no real caring there.
The male gestures at the door. “Come on. I’m not going to ask you again.”
I slide off the table and get to my feet, and I notice I’m wearing a thin paper gown of some kind, like in a doctor’s office. It’s the first piece of clothing I’ve had in almost a year, and it feels weird against my skin. Makes me feel itchy, too, and I realize just how dirty I am.
Doesn’t matter, though. I’m staying dirty for now. Dirty’s safe. No one wants to touch dirty.
The big horned male makes another impatient gesture at the door, and I hastily move forward, my steps wobbling. I feel a little lightheaded, and my head throbs. I step into a shadowy, unfriendly looking hallway that seems made entirely of metal. It reminds me of something from a spaceship movie. My captor grabs a small bundle from a shelf and then gestures that I should follow him.
I do, because I don’t know if I have any other options. Not with the shock collar on. I don’t mind the occasional slap with the shock-stick because they’re mild, and a lot of the time, it’s worth it. Bite the slavemaster? Totally worth the shock. Slap food out of an asshole guard’s hand? Totally worth the shock. But the shock collar isn’t mild. I’ve seen a big lizard-man slave have his brains melted and dribble out his nose after being zapped with the shock collar too many times. After that, I learned to fear the collar.
Fear’s a powerful motivator for a slave.
The man leads me down a few twisting hallways and then taps on a wall panel. A door slides open, and inside I see the other humans. They’re all huddled together in a room the size of my old bedroom back on Earth. Everyone is wearing paper gowns and hugging blankets around their shoulders. The male hands me the bundle—probably my blanket—and gestures that I should join the others. “It’s going to take about two days for us to get to our destination. You lot need to stay here and be quiet. We’ll bring you food. That door through there’s the facilities.” He points at a narrow cubby off to one side.
Gail pats the open spot next to her, and I move closer. “Are you taking us to Earth?” Gail asks, calm confidence in her voice. She’s brave in her own way.
The male snorts. “No. Told you that. Earth’s off limits. I don’t know how they managed to stealth into the zone to grab you guys, but we’d be tapped on a radar and imprisoned for sure. You’re not going back. We’re taking you somewhere else.”
One of the other girls—pink-haired Brooke—starts to cry. Kate hugs her close and rubs her shoulder, and there’s worry in their faces.
Gail frowns. I can tell the news makes her feel bleak, but I’m not surprised. I knew years ago that I’d never see Earth again. It’ll take her and the others some time to get used to the idea. “Then where are you taking us?”
“Somewhere else,” he repeats, being vague. “The people there are nice.”
“Are they human?”
He looks uncomfortable, then steps out of the doorway, about to leave. “I have work I need to do. Like I said, someone will be by with a meal in a few hours. Be quiet and try not to make too much noise.”
“Clothing?” Gail asks as the door starts to slide shut. “And what if we—” He’s gone before she can finish the sentence, though, and she mutters a string of curses. “From one holding pen to another,” she says with a shake of her head. “Un-fucking-real.”
“At least we can stretch,” the tall blonde says. But she doesn’t look thrilled.
I don’t blame her. No beds, no clothes, and food dropped off as long as we’re ‘quiet’? They’re not treating us like people. They’re treating us like inconvenient pets. Been there, done that. People don’t mind a pet as long as it doesn’t cause too much trouble.
When they do, you find a new owner.
But I have a paper dress, and a blanket, and I’m with the others. In some ways, this is better than the last place, and in some ways it’s worse. Until the other shoe drops and the real terrible things happen, it’s best to enjoy the quiet. I unwrap my blanket and then lie down, my head throbbing with pain.
We have two days until we’re handed off to our new masters. Two days before the world changes again.
I’m going to enjoy this blanket until then.
2
BEK
Every morning, as I always do, I rise with the dawn. I get up, dress, nudge Harrec with my boot because he snores loudly enough to wake a scythe-beak in the brutal season, and grab my weapons. I head out of the small hut I share with the other unmated hunters and stretch in the brisk morning air. I am the first one awake, and I glance around before heading off to my secret hiding place, where I have my secret box stashed. I head into the canyon, close to the dirt-beak nests, and look for the telltale outcrop of three rocks jutting out from the wall. I head for it, glance around to see if anyone else has followed me, and then drop to my knees, digging.
Every morning, I check the box for the red flash I am told will signal the ship’s return. Every day, it is quiet and lifeless.
Today, though, I can see the flash even before I pull it free from its hiding spot buried under the snow. I cradle it in my hands, watching it flash the bright red I was promised, and I feel a surge of hope.
They did not lie.
They are coming back with humans.
Several moons ago, Mardok and his people arrived here. It was shocking to see people that were not of my tribe. Mardok and his ‘ship’ came from our homeworld, where our ancestors came from many, many generations ago. Cap-tan and Trakan and Niri were polite, but it was clear they did not understand the sa-khui life or why we would choose to stay here on our world instead of returning to the stars with them.
Mardok stayed, though. The ship left, and Mardok remained behind to mate with Farli, claiming the last eligible unmated female in our tribe. I am not upset about this—Farli is as a little sister to me, and I am happy she has found a mate that brings her joy.
But even so, I feel loneliness gnawing at my spirit. There are no females to mate. I will never have a family and a hearth of my own unless I wait patiently for one of the female kits in the tribe to come to adulthood.
And I am not a patient hunter.
So I asked Cap-tan and Trakan to bring humans here, humans they find that have been taken from their home, like Shorshie and the others. Humans that will be sold to bad men. I want them brought here so they can be mates to the men in our tribe. So we can give them a good life and make kits with them. So we can be lonely no longer.
Cap-tan and Trakan promised to bring us females because I showed them the cave-ship that brought Mah-dee and Li-lah and let them take a box of small, shiny squares that they were very excited about. They promised that because I had helped them, they would help me. And because they promised, they gave me a shiny square to wear on my wrist. It will blink red, they told me, when their ship returns to our planet. I am to watch it daily, and when it blinks, they will bring humans for us.
I was not entirely sure they would ever come back. I could tell that neither Cap-tan or Trakan liked the idea of bringing humans to my world. They said it was very bad to be found buying humans, but in the end they wanted the box of shiny chips more than they cared. I watch the slow blink of the wrist-s
quare in wonder and elation. I have never been able to wear it. I have had to hide it, because no one in the tribe knows of the deal I have made except for Vaza. I am not sure that my chief, Vektal, would understand. He has a mate and two kits at his hearth. He is content. Even before, he had affection from females.
He does not know what it is like to be without hope. But Vaza understands. He approves.
And he will want to go with me to greet the ship’s return.
I wrap the wrist-square in a bit of fur and hide it in my loincloth. The strange stone is cold against my groin, even through the fur, but it is the only place I can carry it and ensure no one will see I have it. I force myself to walk calmly back to the village, gripping my spear with white knuckles.
Out on the other side of the valley, the cave-ship is returning. It will be carrying humans, and one of them might be my mate. I feel a stab of nervousness. I was not a good pleasure-mate to Claire, and she left my furs. What if I am not good at being a mate to another female? What if I ruin things again? The thought eats at my mind.
I do not like the thought of offending another mate. It took many seasons for Claire to look at me as a friend again. I cannot imagine what it would be like if we had resonated.
But perhaps I am creating trouble where there is none. Perhaps I will not resonate to one of these females at all. The thought is a depressing one, and I banish it instantly. I will not allow myself to think such things, not while there is hope.
I return to the village and duck inside the hut I share with the others. Harrec continues to snore in his furs, oblivious to the morning sunlight. Taushen is gone, but Vaza is rising and Warrek is stirring. I grab the pack I normally take hunting with me and move to Vaza’s side, then give him a meaningful look.
The elder straightens immediately, excitement flicking in his eyes. “Today?”
“Hmm?” Warrek asks, glancing over at us.
“Nothing,” I say sharply. “Come hunt with me today, Vaza.” I stress his name and give him a stern glance that indicates he should keep quiet. “Meet me outside when you are ready.”
He flings himself from his furs, racing for his things. I ignore Warrek’s look of surprise—he will understand later.
When I have a mate curled up at my side, resonating to me, her belly full of my kit, I will endure the chief’s anger without fear. Nothing is worse than having no mate. Nothing. Whatever punishment he gives me for going behind his back, I will take.
Even if it means exile. If she is with me, I do not care where I go. My mate. She is close. I feel a need so intense it makes my chest clench.
Vaza stumbles out of the hut a scarce moment later, one leg barely in his leggings. He is hitching his belt at his waist and drops a boot as he rushes forward. “They are here?”
I scowl at him, clenching a hand tight around my spear. “Do not be so obvious,” I grit. “The others will see and be curious.”
He straightens, stuffing his leggings through his belt and then hitching it tight at his waist. He has an expression on his face that looks much like Claire’s little Erevair when he must be calm and wait for a present—stoic yet desperately excited underneath.
Part of me resents his excitement. Vaza had a mate once, and a son. They both died in a terrible hunting accident long before the khui-sickness, and he has been alone ever since. He wants a mate and company, but any fertile female will surely resonate to one of the males who has never had a mate. He might very well be left alone once more.
I try not to think such depressing thoughts. Cap-tan and Trakan will bring enough females for all of us, surely. I watch impatiently as Vaza laces up his boots, and then grunt approval as he hikes over to me. “Let us go before anyone else notices.” I feel as if we are being very obvious in our sneaking away.
“Bek!” calls out a tiny voice.
And just like that, I decide I can wait a few moments. I turn and kneel, smiling at the kit that races up to me, his little play spear in hand. “Erevair. Where is your mother?”
Claire’s son is smaller than a full sa-khui kit would be. He is a pale blue—a cross between his mother’s pale skin and sa-khui—but the unruly, floppy mane on his head is all his father. He blinks his big blue eyes up at me. “Feeding Relvi. Where are you going?”
“Hunting,” I tell him.
“Can I go with you? Can we catch dirt-beaks?”
I chuckle and shake my head. I took the kit with me the other day to get dirt-beak nests, and he was so impressed by the birds that I caught a few of them with my hands, just to show off and make him laugh. It does not matter that Erevair is not my son—I love him as if he were my own. “I will take you another day.”
The little one squints up at Vaza, not sure if he should pout or not. “Are you taking him dirt-beak hunting?”
“We are hunting something else,” Vaza teases.
I shoot him an irritated look. If he hints what we are doing, Erevair will tell Claire. “We are very busy and must be going, Erevair. What would you like for me to hunt today?”
“Quill-beast!” He rubs his belly in an exaggerated motion that makes me laugh.
“I will bring one back for your mother’s fire,” I promise him, ruffling his mane. “Now go and tell her, and we will be off.” We can stop by a cache and I can get a quill-beast from the frozen storage to appease him. There is enough time in this day, I should think.
As Erevair waves and races off again, Vaza just shakes his head. “You are soft on that one.”
I get to my feet and head toward the far end of the crevasse, toward the pulley. “I am fond of all the kits.”
“But especially fond of that one.”
I say nothing, because I do not disagree. Though Claire is no longer my pleasure-mate, we are friends once more. I have spent many nights at her fire with her and her mate, Ereven. And while I help my sister Maylak with her kits when I can, there is something special about Erevair. Perhaps I see him as the son I should have had, if I had resonated to Claire.
Of course, Claire and I would have been miserable as resonance mates. But sometimes I still wonder if it would have been different. I suppose I will always wonder as long as I am unmated and alone.
I glance over at Vaza, suddenly impatient. “Let us go quickly now.”
He gives me an eager nod, and it takes all that I am not to sprint out of the village at the fastest of speeds.
By the time the twin suns are high in the sky, we have skirted around the large valley that holds our village’s crevasse. The weather is clear and looks as if it will hold all day. The hills are full of wildlife, and I manage to spear a fresh quill-beast that we flush out of a snowdrift as we walk.
Surely this is a good sign of things to come.
In the distance, I can see the ugly, ungainly hulk of the cave-ship that belongs to Cap-tan and the others. It hovers slightly off the ground, which is strange to see given that it has no wings. It lands as we approach, and as I watch, the side opens up, a staircase descending. I remember this strangeness from when we visited before, though the sight of it is still unnerving. Trakan appears in the hole in the side of the cave-ship and raises a hand in greeting.
“Hey, man. Hurry it up,” he calls out as we approach. “Captain says we’re behind schedule for our next run, so we can’t stay for long.”
Vaza and I jog to meet him, and I climb the stairs, clasping his arm in greeting. “You returned.”
“Would have felt like a keffing bastard if we didn’t,” he says with a grin. “Do you have any idea how many credit chits you gave us?”
I do not even know what a credit chit is. I shrug.
He greets Vaza and then gestures for us to follow him. “Come on. Captain’s on the bridge and declined to say hello. Wants to keep out of the ‘exchange’ as much as possible. I think he wants to limit his culpability if we get caught.”
“Caught?” I ask, stepping through the hole into the cave-ship. As in the past when I entered, a blast of heat hits me, as if a dozen fire
s are quietly burning out of sight. They do not like the cold, and their home is chokingly warm. I immediately begin to sweat, but I can endure the heat. It does not matter at all.
“Yeah, like I told you, humans are a Class-D planet.” He looks momentarily annoyed at my ignorance. “We get caught with them and it breaks all kinds of keffing treaties. I’ll have to spend the rest of my days being bottom bunk in a backwater prison. No thank you.”
I grunt at his words. “But you do have humans with you? Female humans?”
“That we do, my friend. Our debt to you will be officially paid.” Trakan saunters down the corridor of the cave-ship. “After this, we have never seen each other before. Understand?”
“Of course.” I just want to see the humans. I wipe sweat from my brow, and I do not know if it is from the heat or my nerves. Next to me, Vaza looks twitchy. “Where are they?”
“Right this way.” He pauses in front of a wall and taps a few glowing buttons. “Had Niri run medical checks on them, and they all are in relatively good health. Some of ’em aren’t the most pleasant creatures, but that’s your problem, not mine.”
The door opens, and Trakan steps aside so Vaza and I can enter. I step forward, my heart pounding. There are five small forms curled up in pale blankets. They sit up as we enter, and as I watch, they huddle together, gazing at us with frightened, dark, human eyes.
I look at each one, waiting for it. Waiting for that moment that resonance will strike. Show me my mate, I demand to my khui. Pick one to resonate to.
The one closest to me has a bright pink mane and large teats. She shivers and moves closer to her friend as I gaze in her direction. The friend is tall for a human—almost the size of a sa-khui female—and has a mane so pale it looks like tufted snow. She would make a good mate, I think. Beside her is a smaller one with golden skin, tilted eyes, and a black mane that brushes against her shoulders. She looks small, I decide. Fragile. Perhaps better for Taushen, because he has a gentle grip with delicate tools. Next to her is an even smaller female, so slight that she looks almost childlike. Her skin is a dark, rich color like Tee-fah-ni, and her hair is a tight cap of gray against her round scalp. She has wise eyes and narrows them at me, as if she does not approve.