by Lisa Lace
"Are we winning?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.
"No," the woman said solemnly. "We are resisting, but we are not winning. The Surtu have powers that we do not. They can heal themselves."
"And they can move things with their mind," I added.
"I didn't know that," she said, but she didn't sound surprised.
We arrived at the nature reserve. I dropped the glider down into a meadow and let the women off, a new plan forming in my mind. "I'm going to continue flying," I told them. "If they trace the glider, it will set them off-course. Find safety. You're in good hands."
"May Fortuna smile upon you," she said before guiding the women into the cover of the woods.
Flying away, I realized I hadn't learned her name. It probably wouldn't be the first time. War was like that – people passed in and out of each other's lives like fingers strumming down the strings of a harp. Names weren't necessary in war, just the safety of the people who bore the names.
I flew for the remainder of the day and through the night, finally landing when I saw the dawn illuminating more wilderness at the base of a mountain, far from where I'd left the women. Tired, I set the glider down for the final time, and I stepped out into the early light, my feet surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers.
Since tucking myself away into the crate of empty whiskey bottles, my mind had been focused on my escape, and then those of the women in the tent, but now I could embrace the moment. I was finally free.
And I was back on Earth. Strangely serene, I looked up at the blue sky – the beautiful blue sky. I hadn't seen it in years. Why did people always turn to the stars for beauty when there was so much of it on Earth? I inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air. It felt good, a lot more wholesome than the recycled air of the space station.
I started to walk, needing to build distance between myself and the glider. The slippers of my Surtu uniform sank eagerly into the soil as I trudged along. If I could live the rest of my life like this – a recluse out in the woods – I would. It would be a happy life.
But I couldn't. I would not let my training go to waste. I would honor Gallia by doing my part to save my people. Maybe along the way, I would find the others.
And Jidden.
Thinking of him made my heart ache, so I focused on my trek. I did not know where I was or where I headed. I simply followed the creeks and springs away from the mountain, watching the narrow waters trickle downhill. In time, I came upon a patch of perse-thistle. I crushed the fresh purple leaves in my hand and sprinkled water over them, forming a paste that I spread into my mousy brown roots. An hour later, I washed it out, flipping my hair against the radiance of the sun.
I was no longer a slave. I was Nightshade once more. That was the nickname Bellona had given me. I didn't use it myself. I was still me. I was just more me than I had been before, summoning a fierceness from within.
My feet hurt. The slippers I wore had fallen apart long ago. Their soles were barely able to keep away the twigs and rocks of the woods. I continued, knowing I did not have much further to go before I broke through the tree line. The brush was becoming less dense, and the leaves on the trees were dry, having no shield from the sun.
I didn't know how long I had walked. A week, maybe? That seemed right. I had eaten nuts and berries and drank creek water to give my body energy. The night was a blanket, the day my inspiration. Survival in the woods was inconvenient but manageable. However, I was relieved when I pushed aside the last tree branch and stepped out into the open.
My relief was short lived. Voices echoed across the grassy field before me, and I scurried back behind the trees and ducked behind the brush, watching the area through the thorns. A pair of Surtu soldiers patrolled the area. Their voices drew closer until they stood before me, wearing black uniforms that matched my own. Theirs were clean and starched. Mine was worn and muddy. This camp was not at the front line of a battle. If a base was near, it was for intelligence and preparation, not fighting.
I held my body still, becoming one with the woods around me. Thankfully, my eyes were as brown as the thorns that shielded them and my hair as dark as the leaves of autumn. Still, my camouflage wasn't enough against the powers of the Surtu mind. They had powers I was still trying to grasp. They had kept them well hidden on the Fortuna so Earth would underestimate them when they attacked.
"I sense something near," one of the soldiers proclaimed.
"It's probably just a deer," another said, a skinny male much smaller than his companion. "There's no one out there. No one knows we're here."
"No, I can–"
"You can keep walking is what you can do," the skinny soldier said, and he pushed the other forward. "I'm starved."
"You always feel hungry," the other grumbled. "You eat, but you have no meat."
"My mother got the disease when I was still in her stomach. I may not be a fatso like you, but I'm strong. And I need food to feed my muscles, so move along!"
"I'm no fatso," the other soldier protested, but they resumed their patrol.
I remained frozen, trying to push down my paranoia. As they walked away, I was certain the skinny soldier had glanced behind his shoulder and looked directly at me.
When night came, I climbed to the highest tree branch. I needed to see the stars, but I did not want to risk the open field. Based on the constellations in the sky, I was close to the winter plains, within reach of the big cities but far from the desert where my family lived. It was a good thing.
As much as I yearned to go home, it wasn't the time to do so. By now, Captain Fore would have learned of my escape from the Fortuna, and he would have heard of the women saved from the northern base. They would track me. If I went home, I'd lead the Surtu, and their vengeance, straight to my family.
I would have to wait for a safer time if such a thing existed during the Surtu occupation.
There were more than stars above me. Little lights spun around the oily sky. They were ships in the heat of battle. Hundreds of space stations circled the Earth. They were fighting the Surtu from the sky while we fought on the ground.
Smoke rose nearby. The Surtu base was closer than I thought. It was useless backtracking into the woods. I had to move forward. That would mean snaking along the base. It would be difficult to conceal myself when there was nothing but grassland around. The night provided the best cover, so I climbed down from the tree and stepped out into the open field, the shadow of darkness my only protection from the Depraved.
I moved swiftly, my footsteps silent, my ears open. I made less noise than a breeze as I glided across the grass. When I saw the first lights near the Surtu base, I swerved to the right, heading away from it. Unfortunately, the path took me straight to a cliff.
I'd have to travel closer to the base than I wanted. Using the lights of the base as my guide, I stayed far away, orbiting the base like Pluto did the Sun, a being of ice trying not to get burned.
The trouble with the night was that, though it masked my movements from the Surtu, it also masked their movements from me. I did not see the soldier on patrol, nor did I hear him until he turned on the light of his torch, illuminating me from several feet away.
"Stop!" he commanded, but I ran off.
He followed me, yelling into his communicator. I continued to run, but in the grassy field, there was nowhere to hide. I was agiler than the soldier chasing me, but I couldn't outrun the hover bikes that cut me off. I turned, prepared to face the chasm over slavery, but a soldier on a hover bike grabbed the back of my uniform and jumped off his vehicle to pull me to the ground.
"Got you," he said gleefully. "And it looks like I'm not the first." He turned to the other soldiers. "She's wearing our uniform. She's a runaway."
I had been wrong about the Surtu base. It was no base at all. It was a camp, a mechanical side venture where the fixed hover bikes and repaired armor. No wonder the soldiers here were clean-cut. They had only tasted grease, not blood.
Just like o
n the command center, I was once again the only woman around. Without the glory of the front lines, these soldiers had no one to claim. Not yet. They were probably waiting for their fellow soldiers to die off in battle so that they could find their mates. To them, women were pieces of meat for vultures to feed on.
"It's my lucky day," the soldier said. He pushed me into a tent. "I've been itching for a ride."
"You can ride yourself," I spat. "I've been claimed."
I did not want to say light bonded. If what I'd learned was accurate, Jidden and I were the only alien pair light bonded on Earth. The same wasn't true for the colony of human women who had been taken hostage by the Surtu sixty years earlier. If I told the soldiers I was light bonded, it would give away my identity. They would take me straight back to Captain Fore, whose punishment would be brutal.
"Like I care," he said, stepping towards me.
His comrade grabbed his arm. "It's against the law. She's not worth your life."
"I'm sick of this! We came here to mate with the women, but we've been here for months, and not one of us has been allowed to pull his cock out."
"As soon as we win the war, that's all we'll be doing."
It sickened me to listen to them. It reminded me just how much Earth had to lose if we lost. Our men would be dead. Our women would have their integrity stripped from them. And our children would grow up brainwashed, believing that cruelty was in everyone's best interest. Our military needed a new strategy.
The skinny soldier I'd seen in the field earlier suddenly appeared in the tent. He looked at me as if I were something vile, as if I were the Depraved.
"Send her to me," he instructed, rubbing his nose. "I'll get her to talk." Then he left.
"I hope you like having your fingernails pinched off," the first soldier said smugly. "Kist is known for his personal brand of torture."
They led me to a chair tucked behind a graveyard of vehicles destroyed by the war. Kist waited for me. A table of tools was laid out before him; he appeared to be a doctor preparing for surgery. I may be Nightshade, but I wasn't invincible.
Watching Kist handle the tools made me tremble with fear. I tried to hold it in and remain brave before my enemies, but I was shaking in my chair. I knew the Surtu would do everything in their power not to kill women. I never considered they'd find torturing them acceptable.
Tell them you're light bonded, that you're one of them, I pleaded with myself. Then they can't hurt you.
I remained silent. The torture might hurt, but it was better than life as a slave to Captain Fore.
Kist turned around, a pair of pliers in his bony hands. "Leave," he instructed the soldier who'd brought me here. "You know I like to work alone."
"Gladly," the soldier mumbled. "It's torture to watch." He laughed as he left, finding amusement in his joke.
I did not see the humor.
Kist moved slowly towards me, taking his time. As soon as he knew the soldier was gone, he set the pliers in the palm of my hand. "Scream," he ordered.
"I won't play your sick game," I protested, unable to take my eyes off the pliers.
"It's no game," he said. "If you want your freedom, scream."
He wasn't speaking from a place of insanity. He was quite serious, almost pleading. So I obliged. I thought of every beating Captain Fore had given me on the Fortuna, and I screamed. It felt good, if not for my current circumstance.
Kist shook his head. "Damn, girl. That was good."
To say I was confused was an understatement. "What are you doing?" I whispered, realizing the soldier was more than he seemed.
"I'm saving you," he replied.
My trust didn't come that cheap. I was suspicious. "Why? I can't offer you anything."
He didn't answer me directly. "Who are you?" he asked, returning to his table. "We do not dress our claimed in our uniforms. Not down here. You are someone special."
"I am no one," I told him. "I am of no interest."
"You are of great interest," he said, picking up a crowbar then setting it back down. "Tell me who you are, and I will set you free."
It must be a trick. There was no other explanation for Kist's odd behavior. "I am a human woman. I am a person with a soul. That alone entitles me to my freedom."
"In an ideal reality, yes," Kist said, "but this is not an ideal reality."
"Then what kind of reality is it?" I asked, turning the interrogation on him.
He sighed and sat on a tire near me. "It's the type of reality where a granddaughter who loves her grandfather and her grandmother very much must one day learn that her grandfather is a heathen, and her grandmother is a slave. She discovers her purpose in life is to grow healthy and bear children. She is treated like glass, unable to swim in the sea or climb the trees. As an adult, she must choose a mate before she is twenty-five. Otherwise, one will be selected for her. She runs away, altering her appearance look like a boy. She tells the military recruits that the disease disfigured her while she was in the womb, when, in fact, her only disfigurement is being a woman."
"You're a girl?" I hissed under my breath, unsure of how to react. I felt compassion for her, but I was even more confused than before. I could not understand her decision to join the military and force upon other women what she had experienced herself. "How can you do this to us?"
"I came here to rescue them," she declared, keeping her voice low. "I am the destiny of Earth if this war is lost."
I repeated her story in my mind, and it struck me. The grandmother she spoke of was of the Earth colony that the Surtu attacked sixty years before. Kist was not fully Surtu. She was part human.
It was hard to tell. She had the same elfin eyes as the rest of the Surtu, and the same flecks of light around her pupils.
"You're not here to fight?" I confirmed.
"I can't fight. My size won't allow it. That's why they put me on mechanical detail with the fatsos and the lazies. But if I were on the frontlines, I'd protect the women the fleets are seeking. That's what I came here for."
I wanted to trust her, but it was difficult. Torture came in many forms, and so did great actors. "Why did you tell me your story?" I asked.
"Because like me, you are more than what you seem."
"What makes you say that?"
She stood, remembering the role she was meant to play. "Scream again."
I did, but it wasn't half the performance I put on earlier. "Who do you think I am?"
"You tell me."
My situation was desperate. I needed someone to trust. "Lift up your shirt," I demanded.
"I'm not that kind of girl, but thanks."
I rolled my eyes. "Show me that you truly are who you say you are."
Understanding, she lifted up her shirt. A nude cloth was wrapped in layers across her chest, binding her breasts.
I relaxed. "Good thing the Surtu uniforms are thick."
She nodded but didn't speak, waiting for me to say more.
It took me a moment to form the words. I knew once they were out, I wouldn't be able to take them back. My efforts to hide the glider far from the northern base would be lost. "I am Terra Lynch," I confessed. "I am light bonded to Jidden, of the Surtu."
I didn't know what she expected to hear, but that wasn't it. Her eyes went wide with awe. "I knew Jidden and his mate had rescued an entire space station full of women, but I thought you were dead."
There seemed to be a pattern forming. I did not realize everyone knew about our escape from the Fortuna. "Have you heard anything about my sister warriors?"
Kist glanced past the graveyard of vehicles, making sure no one was near to overhear. Then she came to me and pressed her lips close to my ear, working the ties around my hands as she spoke. "Earth is lost. The Surtu will win. It is inevitable. I belong to a network of Surtu who are helping humans to flee to a secret location – men, women, and children."
The news was hard to take. "Is it that bad?" I asked.
"It is," she said gravely, pulling away the
last of the ties. "While it is still night, I will take you back to the woods. I'll tell the others you died during torture, so I buried you. Find your way to the waterfall. I'll have a messenger meet you there. It may take a few days. Whatever you do, don't get caught again."
I flexed my wrists, allowing the blood to return. "Can't you tell me more?"
"No. It's not safe," Kist said adamantly. "The messenger will tell you more."
I was uncomfortable with the secrecy. Everything was out of my control. But I had no choice. I went with her on her hover bike back into the woods, glad to be as far from the Surtu camp as possible.
"Thank you, Kist," I said when I jumped off. "I hope we meet again, victorious in our cause."
"It's Kista, actually," she admitted. "I changed it to Kist when I entered the military."
"Thank you, Kista," I corrected.
With a nod, she was gone, leaving me in the wilderness once again.
The waterfall was beautiful, especially in the daylight, but it was cold and isolating. I'd spent too many hours alone since watching the escape from the Fortuna. I wanted to find my friends, more than anything. I hoped that the messenger coming to help me would finally give me the news I longed to hear – that their ship had landed somewhere safe.
For days, I waited by the waterfall, watching the waters tumble like tears of the Earth crying for its loss. I almost gave up, believing no one would come, but I forced myself to stay.
He came one night while I was sleeping, shaking me gently awake. When I saw him, I thought I was still dreaming. Had the moonlight cast a spell? Was I projecting my heart outward.
It was Jidden.
Realizing I was awake, and he was beside me, I threw my arms around my alien lover, holding him tighter than I'd ever held him before, as he did to me. For the first time since Gallia's death, I cried, overwhelmed with my love for him and the sense of safety he brought.