by Ava Walsh
How did they do that? I had no idea. I had been fortunate on the Goseb garrison. It had been forbidden for the Goseb soldiers to lie with human females. We were considered weak distractions. Goseb men were encouraged to find a good Goseb woman to bond and reproduce with. Plus, my curvy frame was not favored by the Gosebs. Their women were tall and willowy. My wide hips and large breasts were a turn-off for most of them.
Twenty minutes later, the cart was loaded with a meal for Detro and I was again walking down the hallway to the chambers, frantically debating what to do. Should I bat my eyelashes, sway my hips, lick my lips? But that would encourage him and the thought of actually being with him in that way was terrifying.
I was at his door before I knew it. There was no more time for debate. Detro kept a strict schedule. I pressed the communication button, the door opened and I walked inside. It was brighter now. Detro was dressed, but not yet in his armor or mask. He sat at the desk, barely lifting his head when I entered.
I brought the cart next to him. All of my thoughts of pouting lips and batting lashes were gone. I was too nervous, too afraid to do anything but turn towards the door.
“Why are you always in such a rush to leave?” he asked, without looking up.
“Forgive me, sir,” I said. “But that is generally what commanders want.”
“I am not a normal commander,” he said. “I was brought here to oversee the human working camp below and improve output. It is my opinion that happier, well-fed humans work better than those that are starved and miserable. X29 is my opportunity to test this theory.”
“I hope it is a great success, sir,” I said. I had never spoken so conversationally to a Goseb before. Normally the Goseb only gave orders which I carried out. No Goseb had ever told me of their plans or desires. None of them had ever asked for my company like this.
He looked up then and I saw the hint of a smile on his face. “I’m glad to hear that, but it’s not the humans I need to convince.”
“I never knew the Gosebs cared much for human happiness,” I said.
“The older generation felt that way,” he said. “But that was during the invasion and early occupation. Things have changed now and the Goseb society requires humans to function. We can no longer treat your people like a disposable resource. There is a new generation that thinks it might be better to encourage the humans instead of oppressing them so violently.”
He was watching me, judging my response. But I was an expert at concealing my emotions and I kept my face a blank mask.
“What do you think?” he asked me.
“It makes sense to me, sir.”
“And what is it that you’re afraid to tell me?” He turned in his seat and looked at me. “I can see that you’re hiding something. What makes you so nervous? You can tell me. You won’t be punished.”
“I think it’s a good idea, sir. But I don’t think it will ever happen. I’m sorry.” I regretted the words the moment I spoke them. I cast my eyes down to the plush rug and waited. I wondered which would come first, the yelling or the hitting. I should have flattered him and told him he was a genius. Instead, I insulted the first Goseb who had ever shown kindness to me.
“Do not apologize,” he said. “There are many who think that way. But my allies and I are convinced that we can change their minds. It will take a long time, and peace between our races will not occur in our lifetime. But as the older, harder generation passes on, a new generation emerges. One that sees more value in humans than just the physical labor we can pull from them.
“It’s always scary to go against tradition. There are few who enjoy change. But change is necessary. Without it, we grow stagnant and die. I know my ideas are unpopular now, but I am confident that I can prove here and now on this planet that kindness and generosity will get us farther than violence and hardship. Will you help me, Mereen Silver?” He spoke eloquently and with passion, and when he was done I stood before him in awe. Who was this commander that so casually spoke of improving my people’s lives?
“Of course,” I answered in a breathy whisper. His dream was so far-fetched as to be laughable, but he spoke with such a strong conviction that I could do nothing but agree with him. For just a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a future where humans were not just the starving prisoners of the Goseb, but were instead their own people with their own voice and say. But the flash of imagination was gone in an instant. It was foolish to hope for such a thing. Detro was only one Goseb. How could he be expected to change the minds of all the rest?
Chapter Four
It was late in the afternoon when I finally rose from my bed. I felt better in the afternoon, thanks to resting all morning, no doubt. I was lucky. I knew there were plenty of women in this camp as pregnant as I was who didn’t have the options I had. They only knew how to do the work the Gosebs gave them.
Detro had been missing for weeks, and in that time all of the plans he had implemented on the planet had been done away with. The large meals, the day of rest, the entertainment, the doctors and medicines were all gone. X29 had returned to its former brutality.
I wrapped my shawl over my head and, throwing my rucksack over my shoulder, I stepped out into the heat of the afternoon. The camp was empty. The men were down in the mines, the women were at their work and my shift in laundry started in mere minutes. I walked past rows of identical tents and finally emerged on the edge of the camp where the actual buildings stood.
The sensor in my neck opened the door to the laundry and I quickly moved down the steps. Everything here was underground, where it was cooler, and the laundry was no exception.
The laundry was one big open room. The hard, dirt floor was cool and most women worked barefoot. Dirty clothes and sheets were piled into large vats which quickly cleaned and dried them. Most of the women stood along a long table, folding and sorting the clothes.
“Good morning, Marge,” I said to the human woman in charge of the laundry. She was hunched over and withered, with long strands of gray hair hanging in her eyes. She looked mean, and she was, but she wasn’t stupid. I made a tidy profit for her and she appreciated that.
She nodded once at me and said, “There’s work waiting for you in the office.”
I moved past her, ignoring the women working at the long table. I was always worried about gossip. If word spread about my side business I would be executed immediately. I opened the door to the office and saw the room where the Goseb armor and masks were cleaned and corrected. There was a pile of black, featureless masks on one of the tables. They were marred by small dings and scratches and would need to be repaired. Fixing the masks was technically my job, but I moved past them without stopping.
Behind the table with the masks was a small storage space filled with chemicals and sewing supplies. Hidden amongst the needles and thread and cleansers were the containers where my alcohol sat and fermented. I got to work, mixing sugar and water and heating them up. It was all done by rote memory. We used to make it all the time back at the garrison for the cooks and the doctors. For a long time, I used to do nothing but make alcohol. I hated it then, but I appreciated the skill now.
There was nothing to do but watch it slowly boil and wait. I pressed a hand to my stomach, pressing down and feeling the small swell of my pregnancy. I wondered how far along I was. Detro had been sent away fifty-nine days ago, so I was at least three months along, if not more.
I wondered if it was a boy or a girl. I had never actually seen a human-Goseb hybrid before, although Detro had. He said they had pale skin tinged with green, the hair color was always the Detro black, but the eyes were human in color, brown or blue, depending on the human.
If he didn’t come back before the baby was born, what would I do? Would I have to birth it by myself and then keep it secret and hidden away? But how long could such a thing last? I lived in a tent with people all around me. They would hear the cry of the baby. They would rat me out for favors from the Gosebs and then they would take the baby from me
and...
I couldn’t go down that path. There was no happy ending there. All I could do was wait and pray that the gods brought Detro to me.
Not knowing was the worst part. What if he was dead already? What if I was hoping and praying for nothing? There had been no word from him. There was no gossip in the camp. Everyone wondered what had happened to their previous benevolent Goseb Commander, but no one had any clue where he might actually be.
I spent the afternoon in the small, cramped closet, packaging up my goods. I slipped a bit of copper into Marge’s hand on my way out. Once outside, I turned to my left and headed towards the tent where the medical supplies were kept.
When Detro was in charge, the medical tent was always fully stocked. Most common medicines, pain killers and disinfectants could easily be made on the large orbiting ship and then delivered to the planet. It made sense, Detro used to say, for the Gosebs to keep their workers healthy.
Things had changed. There were no lines outside the tent and I walked right in. It looked barren and empty. There were tall shelves in the room, but they were almost totally empty. A lone human medic sat on a table, his legs hanging over the side. He was staring off into space when I entered, and I cleared my throat to get his attention.
“Mereen, I was waiting for you,” Timon said. He was tall and thin, with long, shaggy, brown hair and perpetual sunburn on his nose and cheeks.
“Am I late?” I asked.
He shrugged, “I don’t even bother keeping track of the time anymore. Ever since the regime change there’s not much reason for me to be here.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” I said.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Nauseous and tired, but nothing too out of the ordinary.”
“Good,” he responded. “Have you reported it yet?” he asked.
I shook my head. Timon didn’t know that the baby was half Goseb. No one could know that.
“Well, you can get away with hiding it until you’re clearly showing. Some women wait until the seventh month to report it.”
I nodded, feeling the small packets of alcohol and copper in my pocket. He stood up and walked over to the opening in the tent, making sure no one was around. “Looks like a storm is brewing,” he said, as he came back in. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet that contained a week’s worth of prenatal vitamins. We traded four alcohol packets and three ounces of copper for one week of pills. It was a high markup, but it wasn’t like I had anything else to spend my money on.
“You should head home now, to beat the storm,” Timon said.
“Has there been any word of Detro?” I asked quietly.
“None that I’ve heard,” Timon replied. As the medic, Timon had the best access to the Gosebs. Sometimes he overheard things.
“You’ll tell me if you hear anything, right?” I asked. He nodded and then held open the door to his tent and I stepped out into a threatening sky.
A dust storm was forming. The sky had turned a grayish green and the wind whipped my shawl from around my shoulders. I grabbed it before it escaped and wrapped it more securely around my head. Squinting against the wind, I struggled to find my tent. I had just managed to get inside and secure the flaps when the storm began to really rage.
The wind howled and above me I heard a sharp crack of thunder. The sides of my tent were whipped around as wind and sand and silt seeped inside. There was nothing to do in a storm but wait it out. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too bad. Hopefully, it wouldn’t wipe the entire camp from the face of the planet.
I shuddered from the cold and wrapped myself up in my blanket as I watched silt enter and settle in my tent. I didn’t know why I bothered to remove it. It always came back. But I hated having that layer of filth over what I had come to consider my home.
Think of better times. But the howling wind and the whipping tent flaps kept interrupting my memories.
“You shouldn’t think of past happiness, but dream of future bliss.” Detro had told me that. I closed my eyes and imagined the Sanctuary. I didn't believe in it, of course, but Detro did. A place where human and Gosebs lived in peace as equals. He had been so sure it existed. Back then his confidence had been infectious. We used to lie in bed together and dream of going there. But now that I was alone it seemed more of a fantasy than ever.
Chapter Five
Detro peppered me with questions every time I brought him a meal. Why did humans have different hair and eye colors? Were some colors preferred to others? What kind of foods did humans enjoy eating? Would I rather be too hot or too cold?
At first, I was flustered by his questions. I was more interested in keeping him happy than giving him information. But he saw right through that.
“How many times must I tell you not to fear me? I want honest answers. I want to help the humans below us and the ones on this ship, including you.”
“What if I give you an answer you don’t like?” I asked.
“No harm will come to you,” he said.
“What if I don’t know the answer?” I said. “I don’t know why humans have different hair colors and I don’t know if I would rather be too hot or too cold. It would depend on where I was.”
He nodded and smiled at me. “That was perfect, exactly what I was looking for. Come, sit with me.”
I moved carefully to a chair next to his desk. I sat down, perched on the edge in case I needed to get up suddenly to do something for him.
“Do you like basda?” he asked.
I nodded. It was a rare treat I had only tasted a handful of times. He poured me a heavy cupful and handed it to me. The hot cup warmed my hands and I breathed in the nutty scent of it and then took a careful sip. It warmed me from head to toe and after a few more sips I could feel my heart start to race from the caffeine.
“Go easy on that,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s pretty strong.”
I nodded and put the cup down and then, emboldened by the caffeine, I spoke quickly, “I’m afraid I’m not the right human for this job. I’ve never even seen Earth. The only humans I know are people like me, who have spent their entire lives in servitude. I don’t know what normal humans like or do. I’m not normal.” I regretted the words the moment I spoke them. This could drive me away from the one Goseb who had ever been nice to me. But that was the problem. He was nice. I didn’t want to lie or deceive or trick him.
“Come,” he said, and to my surprise he held out his hand to me. His ungloved green hand. It was so rare for a Goseb to be without his armor, but Detro looked so comfortable out of it. It was starting to feel normal to see him so unguarded.
He walked to the screen and focused in on the human camp. The long lines of white tents shuddered in the wind.
“What is a normal human?” he asked me. “The Goseb invasion took place over eighty years ago. Other than a few scattered groups of human rebels, all of you live under our dominion. Most of you have never known a life without the Gosebs. You are a normal human, Mereen. This is what normality is for humans now. We can never go back; we can only press forward. Humans and Gosebs are intertwined and we can never be separated. We must accept this new normal and push forward into it.”
I couldn’t understand this Goseb in front of me. He and his people had all of the power. We were their prisoners. We worked without pay. Our lives were owned by them. They could do anything with us. Yet, here Detro was talking about peace and prosperity and kindness. I had never heard a Goseb speak like this before. I had never been treated with respect. I had never been listened to.
I thought about Detro all the time. I wanted to do well at this task he had given me. I watched my fellow humans. I listened to their complaints, logging them away for later. I gathered knowledge for him. I hoarded it and, the moment I saw him, I gave it all to him.
I slowly grew more comfortable around him. It was no longer strange when he offered me a glass of basda or welcomed me to sit down and speak with him. He was still intimidating, he still hel
d my life in his hands, but I trusted him with my life. I knew he wouldn’t abuse it or throw it away. He valued me. He was the first Goseb who ever did.
“I was reading a report about humans before the invasion,” Detro said. He was lounging in his bed reading off a pad as I set his lunch up around him. “Most humans lived in family units. One mother, one father, multiple children and often a larger set of relatives - aunts, uncles, grandparents - to help with raising the children.
“It’s so different from the Goseb way. The moment our children are old enough to talk they are sent to the training academies. There they learn to read, do math, fight. The young ones are watched. Some are better at fighting, others are good with machines. The trainers then decide what that young student is best suited for and the focus of their education tightens. We are not close to our parents on the Goseb home world. We are much closer to the students we attend the academies with.
“But the humans are devastated when they are separated from their children. Quite often the mothers never recover. There has been some talk about improving the education centers for humans, but I fear separating children and their parents might not be the best way to go with your people. What do you think?”
“I think of my mother,” I said. I couldn’t look at him anymore. Instead, I stared at the orange planet on the screen. A huge dust storm was developing in the south. I could see the heavy clouds marring the planet's surface.
“She was a cook at the garrison. She worked all day, rising early in the morning and working straight through into the night. But she still found time for me. I would hide under the tables during the day, watching the feet of the humans as they worked. They used to slip scraps down to me, little sweets. My mother used to check on me. I can still remember it so clearly. I knew what her feet looked like. I would see her coming and then she would lean over and look at me under the table, and she would smile or make a funny face and then go back to work.