by Dima Zales
“Trevain, do you really mean it?” The dark haired woman had clasped her hands together in surprise.
“Of course,” he answered, swallowing and desperately hoping that she would agree. “I understand if you find it difficult to trust me. I promise, I’m not asking you for anything in return. I just want to see you settled, comfortable, and happy. Living out of a motel is not the best arrangement for young ladies. I can offer you access to all the money you could possibly need, meals, clothing, books, computers, tutors…”
“Trevain,” she said quietly. She contemplated him for what felt like a very long time. He fought the urge to shift in discomfort, remaining motionless as she studied his face meticulously. The young woman’s dark eyes bored into him; he tried to imagine what was racing through her mind. When she spoke, her voice was choppy and wavering. “How is it possible you can be so kind? To a complete stranger you have only just met? I could be… I could be a murderer. I could be… some kind of inhuman beast.”
It was Trevain’s turn to throw his head back and laugh. “I highly doubt that you’re a bloodsucking vampire.”
Mirth danced in her mysterious black eyes. “I could be something far worse.”
When his laughter finally dissolved, Trevain ran a hand through his grey hair sheepishly. The motion of laughing had felt so good in his chest that it had been difficult to stop. The merriment was therapeutic, mending all the brokenness his insides had accumulated. Even deeper than that, the rusted gears turning in his mind felt like they had been newly oiled. It was her company that had this effect on him, he knew.
Trevain suddenly felt like he was sitting with an old friend. He smiled and spoke with greater confidence. “You don’t belong in a place like this, compromising yourself to make ends meet. The kind of life you should experience, now that you’re seeking to experience life, is one in which you will enjoy every single moment—one where you can trust that your sisters will be provided for and happy, and that they won’t turn out like my nutcase of a brother.”
His comfortable new manner was infectious. The rigidity of her limbs had released along with the tension around her lips and eyes. She gave him a look of sincere gratitude, and placed her fingertips lightly on his forearm. Feeling emboldened, she squeezed his arm affectionately. “Will you let me talk it over with my sisters tonight and see what they think? I do not want to force them; we have just been liberated from living under tyrannical male authority. They may not like the idea that it could happen again.”
Trevain shook his head emphatically. “I promise that it won’t be like that.”
Her obscure eyes moved toward the beaded curtain, evidently searching for her red-haired friend. She took a moment before she spoke. “If we become dependent on you, we will owe you everything. Our freedom will be yours. But I have seen that you are beloved among your crew; they adore you and your guidance, so I have no reason to imagine that you would not be caring of us as well.”
“Those are my employees,” he explained, “but they are my only friends. They’re the closest thing I have to family, but they pop in and out of my life when their need for my money expires. Do you see that young man over there, Arnav? We’ve been working together every single day, and he feels like a son to me. He’s a college student who’s going to head home as soon as the season’s over, and I’ll probably never see him again.” The grey-haired man paused as premature nostalgia painted his face. “So you see, if you and your sisters want to move on at any point, I won’t have an issue with that. I’m used to it, and I just want to know that I made a positive impact while I could, however brief that may be.”
Trevain saw that she was staring at him with a peculiar and unreadable expression. Was it wonder? Approval? Well-concealed contempt? Feeling suddenly exposed, he cleared his throat gruffly. “At any rate, if you choose to grace my home with your presence you will always be considered a welcome guest. I’m not a tyrant, and never will be. If Callder ever bothers you, I’ll smack him upside the head—but he’s a harmless lout, even when drunk. No one will ever tell you what to do—you would choose your every action as you see fit. Go where you want, do as you please. You would be safe. I promise you this, Undina.”
“Well, then. I cannot listen to you calling me that anymore,” she said softly. She glanced furtively toward the curtain before leaning close to him and putting her lips near his ear. “Please allow me to tell you my real name…”
5
“He offered you to live with him?” the child almost shouted. “A complete stranger?”
“Hush, Corallyn. I will explain in a moment. I need to rest.”
“Of all the ridiculous…” The small girl furiously marched into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Aazuria slowly made her way to the bed, trying to keep her sore knees from collapsing. The joints felt like liquid that might give way under her weight. She finally crumpled weakly onto the mattress. A very quiet woman with a long braid rushed to her side and propped her legs up on pillows as she winced.
“Thank you, Elandria,” she whispered. “The twins will be here in a moment.”
Elandria nodded. Throwing her long braid over her shoulder, she began to knead the other woman’s calves.
After a few minutes, the massage seemed to soothe Aazuria enough so that she could speak. She reached out to touch Elandria’s wrist. “Do you trust me, sister?” she asked earnestly.
Elandria looked up in surprise. Her large, dark eyes were similar to Aazuria’s own, except for the shyness present in them. Before she could respond, the door to their motel room opened. Two identical redheaded women entered. They were laughing and chattering as they shut the door behind them. When they noticed the state of the woman on the bed, it only added to their humor.
“Oh, Aazuria,” one of the twins scolded from across the room. “What is the point of having a doctor around if you never listen to my counsel? I told you not to dance on stage. You can make far more money by just lap dancing, and it’s much less strenuous.”
“Unlike you two, I feel greater comfort in dancing on hardwood than on the laps of men,” Aazuria responded curtly, with a small smile.
“You didn’t seem to object to spending a little alone time with that captain of yours—and his hospitable lap,” the other twin said coquettishly, with a bold wink.
“He is a kind man,” Aazuria responded, running her hands over her thighs and groaning, “but he barely even touched me. I certainly did not become acquainted with his lap. You always jump to conclusions, Visola.”
“What? You didn’t sit on his lap? Why in Sedna’s name not?” Visola stumbled over to the bed, revealing in her canter that she had consumed a few adult beverages. She clumsily tossed her purse onto the night table, and a cluster of bills spilled out. She grinned at this and launched herself onto the bed beside the other girls, landing face-first against the mattress. “Tell me everything!”
“He thinks that I am too young,” Aazuria responded drolly.
Visola snorted in laugher. “You! Young, indeed. Did you tell him how old you are?”
“Yes. He did not believe me; he thought it was a joke.”
“Typical,” said the other twin. She had been carefully removing her purse and jacket, but now she turned to Aazuria and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s due to the deterioration of the quality of communication between men and women in this society. It’s really quite markedly manifest.”
“What do you mean, Sionna?” Aazuria asked, trying to focus on her friend’s words through her blinding pain. She saw the brilliant doctor tilt her chin arrogantly before speaking.
“You could tell a man anything, darling. Anything at all. Tell him about the secrets which make us unique—our biological faculties. Tell him about our rich heritage; tell him about our beautiful home and how it’s unlike anything else on earth. Tell him about your years of captivity, about how long and hard you’ve dreamed of this very moment when you could be in the company of a kind stranger
and reveal all this. He will very likely respond with, ‘Och, that’s funny dear! Now let me see your titties.’”
Visola chuckled at her sister’s cynicism. “So true! So very true.”
Sionna nodded. “The same goes for the women. Men and women of this particular period are so used to constantly lying to each other that they are culturally trained not to take the other seriously. It’s a mental adaptation everyone seems to have. Ubiquitous distrust.”
“Captain Trevain Murphy was so genuine and generous with me,” Aazuria insisted. “After meeting him I think it must surely be possible for men and women to communicate candidly, even here.”
“You’re so naïve, Zuri,” Visola said with a yawn. She leaned her head against her friend’s shoulder. “For your advanced years, you can be so idealistic. Soon you’ll see that we’re right.”
When Aazuria sighed, she inhaled the combination of Visola’s fragrant red hair and alcohol-laced breath. She knew that it was futile to criticize the warrior-woman’s habits; among other unsavory titles, Visola was Adlivun’s drinking champion. Aazuria glanced down at Elandria who was still rubbing her calves dutifully, but the small woman did not speak. She turned back to the redhead resting on her shoulder with a smile. “Trevain noticed you two hovering around me. So much for stealth!”
“Sio and I have been at your side, guarding you for over five hundred years,” Visola said firmly. “We’re not going to let any harm come to you. After all we’ve been through, it would be downright silly if we let you get shanked in a lap dancing booth.”
“Shanked?” Sionna repeated, rolling her eyes at her sister. “General Visola Ramaris! Where did you pick up such smutty slang?”
“You ladies forget that I have the ability to take care of myself,” Aazuria pointed out in amusement. “I hardly think I was ever in any danger from that sweet, harmless man.”
“Harmless my foot,” Visola muttered, stomping her foot on the bed for emphasis. “Didn’t you notice how tall he was, how broad and muscled his shoulders? He is physically strong and potentially very dangerous.”
“You grow more paranoid every day, Viso.” Aazuria rested her cheek against the wayward red curls exploding from her friend’s scalp. “Trevain Murphy is a gentleman. He runs a boat called The Fishin’ Magician. He works too hard and does not have a large family; I believe he is lonely.” Seeing that her silent sister had looked up curiously, Aazuria smiled and gave some more descriptions. “He has sad, tired green eyes and a slight limp. He also has some kind of obsession with age and he seems to think that he is extremely old.”
“Proportionately to his lifespan, he is rather old,” Sionna pointed out, “although in absolute terms and relative to us, he is but an infant.”
“An infant who has accomplished great things,” Aazuria told the doctor. “Apparently, he owns a massive home not too far from here. He has invited me to live with him.”
“To live with him? To live with him?” Visola asked, bolting upright frantically. “You’re not considering it? Great Sedna below! You’re seriously considering it.”
“We need to be practical. He has also offered me access to financial resources. There are five of us. One hotel room with two beds is quite pathetic considering the cavernous dimensions we were accustomed to in Adlivun.”
“It doesn’t bother me, Princess Aazuria.” Sionna’s voice was firm. “We didn’t come here for luxury. We came here for safety and protection. I came here for knowledge and technology to update our infirmaries.”
“And I’m here in to score superior weaponry for our forces,” Visola said. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but our weaponry is pretty primitive. I can easily fix everything with some hardcore American dollars.”
The door to the bathroom flung open just as loudly as it had been slammed shut. The child called Corallyn emerged from restroom, wringing a cloth between her hands. “Why is he offering you this?” she demanded.
“He feels sympathy for me,” Aazuria explained to her youngest sister. Corallyn’s physique was similar to that of a nine-year-old. “He wishes to be our benefactor since our father is dead.”
Visola’s eyes narrowed as she regarded her friend. “I wonder if he would feel that way if he knew that you had killed your father, Aazuria?”
“Please,” Aazuria said in a low voice, “please.”
The quiet girl with the long braid stopped massaging Aazuria’s legs for a moment to use her hands to sign an insult to Visola angrily: “It is too soon to bring it up so casually! Have you no tact?”
“I’m sorry. Elandria, you’re right.” Visola sighed and hugged Aazuria gently around the waist. “Forgive me, Zuri. I forget how much you cared for your pops.”
“I am very tired. My legs are burning. I should rest.” Aazuria pulled away from the others to curl up into a ball on the small, crowded bed.
“Zuri,” said Corallyn, approaching her older sister and placing a damp cloth around her knees apologetically. “I ran a bath for you. Sio mentioned before that I should add something called Epsom salt to heal your legs right up. Please try it; it should make you feel better.”
Aazuria remained still for a moment, her eyes closed tightly before she nodded. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and soft. “Thank you, Coral. I will.”
She sat up, and began to move to stand, but once she was off the bed, her knees began to collapse. The twins were at her side in an instant, placing their arms under her shoulders to support her as she walked to the bathroom. They helped her remove her dress and get into the bathtub where she blissfully lay down and closed her eyes.
“I did not know it would hurt this badly. It did not hurt at all when I was dancing on stage,” Aazuria admitted.
“That was probably adrenaline,” Sionna explained. “Your body had a rush of a hormone which made it think it could do more than it really could. I somehow never experience that sensation at home.”
“This place is much less calm than we are used to, Doctor Ramaris,” Aazuria said softly to Sionna. Seeing that the young girl at her side was worried, she reached out to touch Corallyn’s elbow. “The bath helps. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, big sis,” the child answered. “I’m sorry that I was rude earlier. Just the idea of living with a man again! So soon after we rid ourselves of Papa! The idea truly frightens me.”
“He promised me that we would have our freedom,” Aazuria said, stretching her aching legs out underwater. “If you think about it, we may not get another offer like this. We need to seize it. His resources could be invaluable to our cause.”
“We don’t need a man, Aazuria,” Visola said firmly. “Do you know how much money we’ve made in the past week? They say Alaskan king crab fishermen make the most money in the world, but I don’t believe it. My sister and I have each made over five thousand dollars this week. The shrewd women seducing away large portions of the salaries of the men who make the most money in the world stand in a substantially better position than those fools do.”
“She’s right. If your main concern is our poor accommodations, Viso and I can easily afford an additional hotel room,” Sionna suggested.
“You two would not allow a curtain to come between us. Now you want to sleep in separate rooms?” Aazuria closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the tub.
“You can’t blame us for being cautious,” Visola said. “Everything has changed now that Adlivun is being threatened and scouted. Your father ignored the signs of impending attack, but everyone knows what’s happening. If you really want, we could get a larger suite. Maybe two joined rooms if we leave the door between them open…”
“All of these solutions are so temporary! We can’t revive Adlivun’s defenses in a week. We do not have bank accounts, nor do we have any safe places to store the massive amounts of money we are making. We cannot get bank accounts, and we cannot purchase homes or vehicles. We do not have any identification. We do not exist.”
“I have identification!” Cora
llyn interrupted. “We could use mine.”
“Yes. You have identification that says you were born ninety years ago in Moscow, but you only look about nine years old by land standards.”
“I’ll just stay above the surface for a few years until I look my age!”
“By the time you will look your age, you would realistically need to resemble a cadaver. I think the best solution is to take Trevain up on his offer and to live comfortably in his home while we do what we need to do. We cannot survive in this world without connections and allies. Just as we have allies in Adlivun, we must have allies here.”
Visola sat down on the toilet seat of the small bathroom and strummed her nails against the ceramic basin. “How about we just kill a few friendless, jobless, women who look like us and steal their identities? People won’t notice they’re missing. We can hide their bodies in Adlivun and no one will ever find them. Then we can just do everything ourselves.”
“Visola!” scolded Sionna angrily, “we are not doing that.”
“It would be efficient and fast,” Visola muttered with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “Spoilsport.”
Corallyn had been chewing on her lip nervously. “I think Aazuria’s idea makes the most sense,” she finally admitted.
Aazuria looked at the young girl gratefully. “I am glad you agree. But if I accept his offer I can only take my sisters with me.”
“No,” the twins chorused in unison. There was very little the two could agree upon, but this was one of those rare moments.
“Absolutely not,” said Visola. “We won’t allow you to go. We may not be related by blood, but we grew up at your side. I have hardly ever been separated from you, Zuri. We are as much your sisters as Elan and Coral are!”
“In almost every respect you two are my beloved sisters,” Aazuria answered, sitting up in the tub and turning to cast a stern glare at the women. “However, politically, and with respect to the government of our people, I am now your mother. Mother to all of you. I am the eldest, and I have been educated for this role. Father is gone now, by my hands. It is my responsibility to take care of all of you, and to make decisions that will keep us all safe. I will consult you and gather your opinions, as we often begrudged father for not doing, but I would appreciate if you treated my ideas with a little more respect.”