I have so much to ponder. Too much to go out and help with the merrymaking plans of tomorrow. If I know Betra, Candy, and Katrina, somebody will be coming to check on me soon. I need to be busy so they won’t bug me to go out and be social.
I’ll finish that stupid lottery questionnaire. That’s so involved that my friends will leave me the hell alone, giving me a chance to wrestle with this issue while I work on it. Hell, they’ll be proud of me. That’s the plan. That’s what I’ll do. With any luck, I’ll figure out how to fix this mess.
December 25
Merry Christmas, universe. Not that anybody but us Earthers care. Still, we made a pretty decent day of it. The party was a fun, if mostly non-religious affair. It was as if we were ashamed to be celebrating a major holiday of our world’s faith. After all, we women are all on our way to Kalquor and debauchery with at least three men each. I’d say we’ve fallen far short of what we were taught.
I received a hell of a present. I’ll tell that story in its time.
We celebrated with alcohol. I was allowed to drink leshella from Plasius. Betra told me (and I double checked with Tep) that it was safe for my embryo. I toasted with the rest of the ladies and our liaisons. There was also a buffet filled with food. We exchanged a few presents. I gave Candy and Katrina matching gold necklaces scavenged from the stores on board. Each had a clear pendant with a preserved four-leaf clover inside. I thought we all could use some luck, no matter what our goals were. They loved the jewelry, especially since the necklaces represented a piece of Earth.
Candy gave me some chocolates she’d begged Betra to have the kitchen concoct. They were in the shapes of rattles and baby bottles with colored candy details.
“You don’t hate them, do you?” she asked me. “You haven’t made a decision yet, but I’m dying to be an aunt. Plus, you have an excuse to eat sweets and get fat.”
I laughed, and her worried expression relaxed. “Candy, you could have shaped it like dog poo for all I care. It’s chocolate! How could I not love it?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Gee, thanks for comparing my present to shit, Shalia.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. They did a great job with these.”
Candy grinned. “I drew them pictures to go by. They did do pretty well, didn’t they?”
I admired the artistry of the chocolates. The chefs on board had captured a cartoonish cuteness with the pink-nippled bottles and green-and-blue striped rattles.
“I love them,” I told her. “I don’t have to share, do I?”
Katrina bubbled with deviltry as she handed over her presents to us. We opened the gifts with understandable trepidation. With good reason, it turned out. True to form, she gave Candy and me big fake penises that vibrated. I screamed laughter while Candy quickly concealed her brown-colored dick in its wrapping.
“Oh my God!” Candy gasped. She peeked at the fake cock and re-covered it once more. “Are you mental?”
“Since you aren’t enjoying any of these men, I figured you needed some kind of relief,” Katrina snorted, unapologetic. “If you need something bigger, they have a shop in the main concourse. Candy, since you’re a virgin, you should ease into it. That’s why your dildo is smaller than Shalia’s.”
Betra ventured over to discover what all the fuss was about. He took one glance at the dildo in my hand and rushed to the other side of the rec room. His face was the reddest I’ve ever seen. Redder than Candy, who kept sneaking peeks at her toy.
Maybe an hour later, with my new ‘boyfriend’ hidden in its wrappings, I approached our liaison. “Hey, Betra. Thanks for helping us have a nice Christmas. Here.” I held out a wrapped gift.
He blinked at me in surprise, and a smile spread over his handsome face. “A gift for me? Thank you, Shalia.” He frowned as he took the present. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve watched out for us. You’ve put up with me and my crazy life.” I shrugged. “Besides, we don’t give gifts with the expectation of receiving anything. It’s the act of sharing that’s important.”
“Well, I am touched,” Betra said. He opened the package to find a book I’d made, with printed pages. It had taken some doing to locate the materials I needed. Using paper is archaic, even for us backwards Earthers.
He paged through it, exclaiming with delight at pictures of each of the ten women he’s liaison for. Each was labeled with the lady’s name and an individual thank-you for some kindness he’d done. His grin stretched wide across his face, especially when he reached my picture and the caption, Thanks for not choking me all the times you wanted to.
“I’ve never wanted to choke you, Shalia,” Betra laughed. “I’ve come close to shaking you once or twice—”
“Just once or twice?” I asked. “I’m losing my touch.”
“Thank you.” Betra’s face shone with joy. “This is a treasure.”
Since I had put him in a happy mood, I decided to sound him out on some of the ideas I was wrestling with. “I realize this is taboo for you Kalquorians, but I can’t shake this crazy need to include Clan Dusa in their child’s life. That’s assuming it’s their baby I’m carrying.”
To his credit, Betra didn’t dive into a Shalia-shaking mood. “This is bothering you, isn’t it?” he asked, his expression understanding.
“I guess I should let it go as you all keep telling me to,” I said. “But it’s wrong. My heart screams against it.” I swallowed hard past the sudden lump in my throat.
“What if it’s Nang’s child, Shalia?” Betra asked. “If you give Dusa’s clan permission to visit the child, don’t you have to also extend that courtesy to Dramok Nang?”
“I can’t stand the thought of that,” I scowled. “If only I had more than a couple of years to select a clan! If I could wait for Dusa, Esak, and Weln to return to Kalquor, then we could have a chance to find out if our union would work.”
Betra looked at me for several seconds. His lips tightened, as if he debated something. Finally, he blew out a breath.
“You can.”
I blinked, sure I had not heard him correctly. “What? What do you mean, I can?”
“If you keep the child and carry it to term, it is a citizen of the empire. Your baby is half-Kalquorian, Shalia, which means it has a permanent home. You, as the child’s mother, share in that. With the birth of your baby, you become a Kalquorian citizen as well. You do not have to leave the empire at the end of the two-year lottery limit.”
I stared at him, flabbergasted. “I don’t have to clan?”
“No.”
“And I can stay on Kalquor?”
“Yes.”
I felt a buzz of excitement course through me. “I don’t have to enter the lottery? I can skip that?”
Betra held up his hand. “You can, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Shalia.”
“Why not?”
“Because the government-provided housing, while livable, doesn’t allow for many luxuries. It’s just the basics of shelter, clothing, food, and medical care...plus the small allowances that won’t amount to much more than a few toys for the babe. You’ve noticed what’s being paid into your account, haven’t you?”
I nodded. I was beginning to understand what he was getting at.
“You won’t be able to afford splurges, such as a dinner out, more than once every couple of weeks. You’ll have to save to buy nonessentials. The empire provides the basics for living, but nothing fancy.”
“Which is why you’re all so hung up on rank and promotions,” I guessed.
“Along with the need to contribute to the good of all. Actively seeking a clan and having our children is a major contribution, which is why you’ll have more as a Matara in the lottery. You’ll live in the complex being built with a lot of amenities. It will provide your child with a state-of-the-art facility, given to all the mothers who enter the lottery.”
I mused over that. Candy and I had gone over the nice indulgences provi
ded by the complex Kalquor was building for us. It was essentially a vacation at a resort, with the stipulation we go on dates. I hate to sound shallow, but it was hard for me to imagine living anywhere else, especially when it would be nicer for the baby too.
My choices were clear: I could live in the lap of luxury with extras for my bundle of joy while evaluating would-be suitors, or I could live like a charity case while waiting for a clan that might not come home for years.
Despite the spike of excitement, I made myself think realistically about the situation. Clan Dusa might not prove compatible for me in the long term. I was willing to admit my torrid affair with my three sweeties might not have the longevity it needed. We’d fallen in love, but that love had not had ample time to be nurtured. It wasn’t a given that it would mean happily ever after.
Yet, Dusa, Esak, and Weln deserved the opportunity to meet their baby. I now had the option to wait for either a clan that would allow Clan Dusa to be a part of their child’s life or to wait for Clan Dusa itself.
Fighting the urge to squeal in glee, I gave Betra a composed smile that betrayed none of my racing thoughts. “Thank you for telling me my options. I appreciate it.”
“I’ll probably regret it, but you do deserve to know it all. Just don’t toss aside a loving clan for a dream, Shalia.”
“I won’t,” I reassured him. Meanwhile, I began planning a message to Dusa. I could tell him I would be on Kalquor, waiting for the day he and the other two returned home...and that they would be welcome to meet their son or daughter.
January 5
Everybody keeps telling me that having a child will enhance my status with the clans, but this is ridiculous.
I finished the questionnaire and submitted it a week and a half ago. Candy stopped by this morning and suggested I check if any of the clans had responded.
“Isn’t there some kind of lag between here and Kalquor?” I asked. “They probably received it yesterday or the day before.”
“Those boys are desperate,” Candy informed me. “I had over 200 offers for an appointment in less than 24 hours after my questionnaire went into the system. Trust me; you have to weed out a few every day, or you’ll be overwhelmed.”
I signed into my computer and accessed the offers. I was afraid I wouldn’t have a single one. Not that I hoped to be deluged by 200 eager clans, but I worried I might be embarrassed by a lack of interest. A nice dozen would have suited me fine and kept my ego from being shattered.
The vid in front of me came to life, filling up with line after line of clan names. My mouth dropped open.
“Holy cats,” I said. “There must be fifty clans here!”
Candy’s eyes were huge. “That’s only the first screen, Shalia. You’ve got eight pages besides.” She pointed at the indicator in the right-hand corner of the free-floating hologram. “With 72 clans per page that’s – that’s –” her mouth puckered and her eyes rolled as she did the math in her head. “—648 clans. Your offer page went live only seven hours ago.” She pointed at another indicator.
“There has to be some mistake,” I said, my voice wheezing from the lack of air in my lungs.
“Open one and see what it says.”
I clicked the top name on the list, Clan Seot. Their introduction came up, along with additional files that gave still pics and other information.
Candy squinted at the words on the screen. “Greetings, Matara Shalia. Dramok Seot, Imdiko Cifa, and Nobek Larten wish to express our delight that you have chosen Kalquor as your home. We are assured we can offer you and your soon-to-be-born child a comfortable place to live—”
“Okay, so they understood the bit where I’m pregnant,” I muttered. “Jeez, Candy, do you need your eyes checked? You’re practically kissing that vid.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Stuff is kind of blurry. Hey, they have a home by the sea and a mountain retreat on a moon near Kalquor. Nice.”
“Let’s check some of the others,” I said impatiently. “I can filter out those that aren’t aware I’m dropping a hot package in a few months.”
Candy giggled. “Drop a hot package? From that description, I don’t know if you’re giving birth or pooping.”
I brought up another offer. “Pooping? What are you, seven years old? Who the hell at your age says poop?”
She ignored me, choosing to read the next introduction through her narrowed eyes. Somebody needs to give her a seeing-eye dog. I decided to rat out her bad eyesight to Betra so he can force her to visit Dr. Tep. That’s what she gets for saying ‘poop’.
“We look forward to the opportunity to meet you and your child when you reach Kalquor...” she droned.
“Well, damn,” I said. “Is there a faster method of figuring out who mentions my bun in the oven than reading through all of these?”
“That’s a much better euphemism,” Candy said.
“I’m glad you approve.”
“There is a faster way. Main screen of file.” The computer went back to the first page of suitors. “Highlight all files that contain references to child, baby, or pregnancy.”
The whole damned list highlighted. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said.
We went through all the screens. Out of nearly 650 clans, only about two dozen made no reference to me having a child as part of the package.
“Wow,” Candy said. “I guess Kalquorians like kids.”
“They like knowing the chick they’re spending all their energy trying to seduce can have kids,” I sighed. “I’m a sure thing.”
Candy smiled cheerfully. “Figure out your wish list with every dream and desire, and have them jump through hoops. What the hell, you’re a proven commodity. Your womb is your passport to paradise.”
Yeah, I’m telling Betra she’s blind as a bat. This very minute.
January 6
I have to decide about this kid. Tep says I have to make my choice within the week for optimal success in removing and freezing my hitchhiker.
Clan Dusa won’t return my messages. I didn’t think they would. The guys expect me to move on and find another trio of men to spend my life with. It’s just like men to believe it’s freaking easy to do such a thing.
What if Dusa, Weln, and Esak were who I was meant to be with? I worry that the universe or God or whoever runs this show said, ‘Here’s your happily-ever-after, served to you on a plate. Enjoy.’ They won’t even talk to me now.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have left Earth without them.
I commed Dad, desperate for a sounding board. It was after shift, Atlanta-time, and he was available to talk to me. He looked wonderful in his big-bear-dad way.
We did the obligatory, hi-how-are-you-you look-great-I-miss-you dance. I sound flippant about it, but I do miss Dad. Dwelling on it too much brings me to tears, so I’ll skip to the part where I got cranky with him.
“You are such a typical father to meddle in my love life,” I told him. “You knew I’d never have left Dusa’s clan if I found out I was pregnant.”
Dad raised an eyebrow at me. “All the more reason to not tell you. Besides, Nang was too much of a troublemaker for you to remain near him.” He sighed. “Shalia, you aren’t sure that Clan Dusa is the clan for you. You’ve told me that yourself. How could I let you stay with them when it would have been a mistake?”
“I’m an adult. I’m allowed to make mistakes and have to live miserably with them for the rest of my life.”
Background laughter clued me in on the fact the other dads were listening. Nayun darted a fierce glare to one side.
“My daughter, you are a member of my culture. The child you carry is half-Kalquorian. You have consented to the lottery. That means doing things our way.”
I pursed my lips at him. “I hope the empire realizes that at some point, we Earther girls will demand some significant changes.”
He finally chuckled. “I have no doubt of that. With the shackles of your church and government loosened, many of you are taking the new freedoms to hear
t and demanding more.”
“Give us an inch—”
“And you’ll take a mile.” He turned sad. “Shalia, this is not easy for any of us. For the good of all, we are having to sacrifice, Earther and Kalquorian alike.”
I scrutinized his image. “I’ve asked you before, and you never gave me an answer. Who is she?”
That earned more laughter from the background. Bitev walked into the vid shot behind Nayun. “Our daughter is quite observant.”
Shalia's Diary Omnibus Page 47