by Cara Bristol
With so few females, we protected and cosseted the ones we had. They were all special, but given that mine would be an alien, she had to meet some specific requirements. “I need one who is stout and sturdy to weather our winter, whose strong body will produce many offspring, hopefully females.”
Darq nodded. “I think that’s what everyone would want. The situation is getting dire.”
“Our extinction is imminent if we can’t acquire mates. The first group of Earth females will be a trial. If it works, the council will arrange for more in exchange for the illuvian ore. The rock is useless to us, but the Terrans are quite interested in it.”
Darq snorted. “Crazy aliens.”
“Indeed.” Council members had joked that the Earth people had rocks for brains, and thought we were getting the better end of the deal, but only time—and female offspring—would prove if they were right.
A healer from the Earth ship had run tests and suggested our two species could reproduce. We had no means to verify that, only their word, but the council of tribal chiefs recognized the exchange program as a last-ditch effort to save our species.
Not everyone agreed, though. The exchange program had its detractors. Many opposed taking alien mates because future generations would be half-breeds, no longer fully Dakonian. Those who preferred survival over extinction, and who were unmated, had entered the lottery. By the luck of the draw, I was chosen, the only one of my tribe.
In my clan of two hundred twelve persons, we had only eighteen adult females and two children, both males, a scenario repeated in other tribes. With each subsequent generation, fewer children were born, and even fewer females. The residual effects of the virus that had arrived with the asteroid two centuries ago continued to plague us. Besides the larger problem of our impending extinction, a lack of mates made men aggressive and irritable. As clan chief, I spent way too much time arbitrating disputes and settling fights.
“Any more rumblings?” I asked.
Darq nodded. “From both sides. Some are appalled you’re taking an alien; others are jealous. Mostly the latter.” He twisted his mouth wryly. “I wish I could have gotten a female, but the contest was fair.”
Though no one dared to say anything to my face, rumors had spread that I’d been selected for a female because I was chief. Not true. Everyone had had the same chance. At night, I burned with a relentless longing and lust, so I empathized with the feelings of those who’d drawn blanks. But none of them would refuse the opportunity, and I wouldn’t either, even if refusal would quell resentment.
I’d been there when the Terran delegation of four males and three females had landed more than four solar rotations ago. We Dakonians were tall, muscular, and strong—even our females. We had to be to survive the harsh climate. Judging from the delegation, Earth people came in a range of sizes. One of the females had been downright puny, child-sized. She wouldn’t last a day, let alone a twelve-month winter. Fortunately, they all had dark hair and eyes as we did, so any offspring produced wouldn’t look odd. Any female would be a benefit, but I hoped for a strong one. Lottery winners would choose their female in order of their chit. With number three, I stood a good chance of getting what I wanted.
“Why do Terrans think so little of their women they would send them away?” Darq asked.
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” Because we had so few, we treasured our women, protected them, honored them. “But their stupidity is our gain.”
I glanced around the dwelling I shared with Darq, trying to view it as an outsider. Would it please my mate? While the snow fell and the wind howled, a roaring fire kept the cave warm and toasty. Wood smoke traveled upward to escape through a hole in the ceiling, scenting the air. Firelight danced on the walls in an ever-shifting artistic display. Kel-hide rugs softened the hard-packed dirt floor. Stacks of hides became comfortable beds. I eyed the pile where I slept. I would have to move it to one of the other chambers to provide my female and I some privacy. It would be cooler, but we would cuddle under the furry hides, and I would keep her warm. Anticipation suffused my body. For the first time in my thirty-four solar rotations, I would have a mate.
“I hope my female will be pleased with her new home.”
“How could she not be?” Darq replied. “You’re clan chief. You have the largest cave with many rooms, an abundance of kel blankets and rugs. She’ll want for nothing.” He pointed to the cooking crocks, the pottery, the stone tools. “What more could a female desire?”
I didn’t know—that was the problem. Due to the shortage of females, women could have their pick of mates, and unattached males competed for their attention. Females didn’t have to settle. Even being tribal chief hadn’t granted me enough of an advantage in the mating pool to attract one—except for Icha, whom I’d never desired. Her sharp personality prompted me to put distance—a lot of distance—between us. I’d tried to let her down easy, but she’d taken it hard when I’d refused her advances.
I surveyed my home. What more could I do to welcome her? “Tomorrow I shall hunt a kel so she’ll have fresh meat when she arrives.”
Family units shared dwellings, so Darq and I lived in the cave together. In addition, all day long, people of my clan came to me with their problems, their disputes. They sought my advice, my mediation. Other chiefs visited to discuss issues of mutual concern. I was surrounded by people, but in the deepest part of the night, loneliness howled like the wind. Yes, we needed to produce progeny so our people continued, but I longed for a female for personal reasons, too.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” I asked.
“Only you would worry so much. Everything will be fine. The day after tomorrow, you will retrieve her, and you’ll see.”
* * * *
“He stole my female!” Armax shouted.
“I did not,” Yorgav denied. “She came willingly. She preferred me to you.”
“Liar!”
It took two of my stoutest men to stop them from pummeling each other.
If Armax and Yorgav hadn’t bloodied each other already, I would have throttled them myself. I checked the sun’s faint glow through the cloud cover. By now, the ship had landed; at this moment, the females were probably disembarking. I should be at the meeting place, but instead, I’d been forced to mediate the dispute between these two. This demonstrated another reason why the exchange program mattered so much. Fighting over females caused more discord than everything else combined. If we had more women, this wouldn’t be a problem.
I didn’t have time for this today. “Ward them both!”
“But—but…” Both men sputtered.
“Silence!”
Rarely did I consign anyone to the holding caves isolated from the rest of the clan. Disagreements could usually be talked out, but they had picked the wrong day to try my patience. Now I was late; I wouldn’t get third pick. Perhaps if Armax and Yorgav chopped firewood for the rest of the clan and slept on the stony ground with a thin kel hide as a covering, they would think twice about fighting in the future.
Protesting, the two men were led away.
“How long do you intend to ward them?” Darq asked. He would keep an eye on matters in my absence.
“Haven’t decided yet.” Anger burned in the pit of my stomach. I yanked on a heavy coat, snapped the hood over my head then shoved some mittens into the pocket. The coat’s outside had been rubbed with kel fat to make it impervious to water, and fur lined the inside. Thankfully, the kel had been one of the animals that had survived the asteroid strike that plunged our planet into winter. Without them, we would have perished. It could still happen if the exchange didn’t pan out, if their females could not produce children.
Darq slapped me on the back. “Speed be with you, brother.” He understood the stakes.
Fresh snow had fallen overnight, enough to reach the tops of my knee-high boots. I set off at a brisk pace, packing the snow with a heavy stomp. On the return trip, we would walk in the impressions. The woods were st
ill and quiet, my breath, the only sound. My exhalations fogged the air.
As anger dissipated, excitement grew. I’d been wrong to focus on specific requirements. Truth: I would welcome any female who would be mine. I couldn’t wait to meet her, the future mother of my daughters and sons, my fireside companion. I expected an adjustment period. We were strangers to one another after all, but I imagined her anticipation to be as great as my own. Why else would she have left her planet to travel among the stars to a new and frozen world?
Soon. Soon. Soon. Soon. The hopeful word repeated in my mind with every step.
Chapter Three
Starr
The med tech pressed the muzzle of the medical device behind my right ear. “Hold still.”
A sharp pain shot into my head. “Ow!” I slapped the hurting spot. The implant formed a warm, throbbing subdural lump. I shifted my head from side to side. “Is it supposed to feel hot?”
“That goes away.”
“How can I tell if the implant is working?”
He shrugged. “If you can understand them, it’s working.”
“It will automatically translate what I say into their language as well?”
“It sends a signal to the language center of your brain. When you speak to them, it will be in their tongue.” He signaled the coordinator. “All done.”
I slipped off the stool. We’d been advised that the weather would be “chilly” so we should wear our warmest gear. None of the garments packed by prison personnel were suitable for cold weather, so I’d compensated by donning all the clothing I had with me: two bottoms, two short-sleeved shirts, one long, and, lastly, a knee-length sleep shirt. Multiple layers didn’t slim me down any. Would the alien realize my clothing made me look heavier than I was? And why did I care if the alien thought I was fat? I waddled into place beside Andrea and Tessa.
The coordinator raised her hands. “Okay, ladies. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. The ship’s gangway has lowered. It will be just a little longer before you disembark. When you exit, head directly to the reception center, the large stone pavilion. It’s a little nippy out there, so move quickly. Your mates are waiting inside.”
My stomach tumbled. I studied the other women to see if they were as nervous as I. This was the first time all of us had been in the same room together and as I surveyed them, it struck me I was the shortest person here. Every single woman had at least seven or eight inches on me, and some were a lot taller than that. At five foot three, I’d gotten used to being one of the shortest people in any gathering, but wasn’t it strange nobody stood close to my height? Both Andrea and Tessa were statuesque and muscular, like athletes. About the only thing we had in common physically was our weight. They had me on height, but we probably weighed about the same. They were tall and sleek; I was squat and plump.
Something else I noticed now: how dark the women were. Andrea, like a dozen others, was of Terran African descent. The rest, like Tessa, were Caucasians with dark-brown hair and eyes. Most had permanent chemical tans.
A blued-eyed blonde, I felt like a canary among ravens. This is a little weird. What were the odds I’d be the only blonde?
The door slid open, and stewards wheeled in huge carts piled with what appeared to be animal carcasses. “What is that?” I clapped a hand over my nose and mouth.
“Animal hide. Fur,” Andrea said. “I believe what we smell is called leather.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“People used to cobble shoes and sew clothing out of animal skins.”
“But not for hundreds of years.” My hand muffled my words. The wealthy bought cotton and linen; the rest of us wore synthetics.
“The Dakonians have provided you with warm coats,” the coordinator said. “Form a line, please, and come up and get one.”
I would have hung back, but Andrea and Tessa nudged me forward. Grimacing, I accepted the coat, slinging the smelly thing over my arm, holding it away like it was a dead animal. Which it was. Andrea, Tessa, and the other women donned theirs. Giggling, they pulled the hoods over their heads and preened for one another. Gross. How could they stand it?
“How do I look?” Tessa pivoted. The fur covered her from head to knees. She’d done up the wooden toggles that kept it closed. Only her hands, face, and a few strands of brunette hair were visible.
“Like an alien,” I said. In the fur, she was indistinguishable from the Dakonian in the orientation video I’d finally watched.
She mimicked horns with her index fingers pressed to her temples. “How about now?”
“Tessa!” Andrea chided, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
Tessa giggled and shoved her hands into some pouches sewn into the sides. She pulled out two hide mitts, the insides lined with fur. “Hey everybody—hand warmers!” She donned them, and the other women checked their pockets and found theirs. Holding the animal hide was bad enough. I had no desire to stick my hand into the skin and rummage around.
“I wonder what kind of animal it was,” Tessa mused.
“I believe it is called a kel,” the coordinator answered. Pressing a hand to her ear, she cocked her head. “Okay, ladies! We’re ready now. Follow me, please.” She motioned and exited the conference center.
“This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see them.” Tessa bounced from foot to foot.
A tornado churned in my stomach at the impending confrontation. Carmichael justice could load me on a shuttle and transport me halfway across the galaxy, but the family couldn’t make me copulate with an alien. No way. No how. Not going to happen. If the Dakonians were friendly and pleasant like Terra One World had promised, there should be a getting-to-know-you-hands-off-keep-your-pecker-to-yourself transition period. But, eventually, my so-called mate would expect to get what he’d paid for. The alien was going to be very unhappy.
I only planned to hang out here until my appeal came through. It had to come through. It had to. How Maridelle would notify me, I’d worry about later. Get through the meet and greet. One thing at a time.
Single file, we rounded a corner of the ship, and the temperature plummeted at least forty degrees, indicating we neared the gangway. Cold seeped through all my clothing layers. I should have put on the fur. I sniffed. No. The entire corridor reeked from the multiplied effect of forty-nine women covered in dead animals.
I stepped into an icy white world. Needles of cold stung my face and pierced the barrier of clothing like I wore nothing at all. I gasped from the shock of it, drawing frigid air into my lungs.
Hell, that mythological world inhabited by demons wasn’t hot at all. It was a frozen, alien wasteland. No wonder Dakonians had horns—they were creatures of the hell they lived in.
Shivers racked my body, and my teeth clattered. Hurriedly, I pulled on the fur. It covered me from neck to ankles. My fingers were so stiff from cold already, I could hardly do up the toggles. I yanked the hood over my head and then dug into the pockets for the mitts. My hands shook so bad, I dropped the mittens in the snow. Before I could retrieve them, the line of women pushed me forward, and the wind swallowed my cry to stop. The cold drew tears from my eyes and froze them on my face.
The only warmth came from a burning hatred for the Carmichaels or Terra One World or whoever had put me here.
Head down, I followed the furry back of the woman in front of me. Andrea? Tessa? I couldn’t tell. At least I was in the middle of the pack, so the ones leading the charge had stomped out a path, and my feet didn’t get buried in the snow.
A blast of warmth caressed my face. I lifted my head and blinked through the tears at a huge gray stone domed building. The women were entering, holding aside the thick flap of hide serving as a door.
This is it. No backing out now. I choked at my own sad joke. Taking a deep breath, I pushed inside.
Warm. Warm. Warm. Like a mantra, the words rolled through my mind. A large fire blazed in a hearth in the center, the smoke drifting up and out through a hole in the ceiling. Instead
of crowding around it, my fellow ’net brides stood still and quiet, staring across the room at...bears. Huge, furry bears.
The aliens.
I’d never seen beings so large, their bulk enhanced by their furs, the hoods thrown back to reveal swarthy faces. My gaze was drawn to their heads. Not a horn in sight. Thick dark straight hair fell to their shoulders. Eyes and ears—thankfully, only two of each. One mouth, one nose. No scales.
Some of them smiled, and I noted with relief they didn’t have fangs or lizard-like tongues. Not that I could see.
“They look like Earth men!” whispered a woman on my right, and I realized it was Tessa.
At first glance—yes, but if you focused on the subtleties—no. Working for the Carmichaels I’d learned paying attention kept you alive. If I hadn’t caught that slight flicker in Jaxon’s eyes, I’d be dead now. So I noticed details others didn’t. Dakonian features were craggier, rougher than any Terran male’s, their irises so dark they appeared almost black, and while their complexion might be considered “tan” on Earth, it had a tonal quality I’d never seen on a human being. They were way taller than the Terran norm. The shortest one topped seven feet.
“They’re hunky,” Tessa said.
“Quite nice. They’ll do fine,” Andrea murmured on my other side.
One woman removed her hood, the others followed suit, and the men’s smiles broadened; they liked what they saw. I kept my hood up; I hadn’t recovered from the cold. Or maybe I was hiding from seven-foot-tall bogeymen disguised as aliens. Could we trust these men?
One of them broke from the pack and approached. Now I spotted what had been obscured by the distance: little dark-brown nubs poking up out of his hair. They did have horns!
“Welcome, females! I’m Enoki, head of the clan council of Dakon. We are pleased you have arrived.”
Females? How wonderfully…objectifying. Or maybe the translation wasn’t exact. I rubbed the lump behind my ear. At least I’d understood him; the translator worked.
“Thank you.”