by Auburn Seal
“I wish I could talk back to you like that. It would be very convenient.” Levra giggled like a school girl and marveled at how peaceful she felt among the Ddaeran people. “He’s great. Thank you. He wanted to come today, but he and Serla stayed home to play Wonders of Earth.”
Alena squeezed Levra’s arm, sending more thoughts. “I love Wonders of Earth!”
They slowed as they approached Alena’s family hut, and Alena squeezed Levra’s hand even harder.
Alena’s pale green, almond-shaped eyes, typical of the Ddaerans, sparkled with anticipation. “Come in. Come in. Mama has something to show you.”
Levra walked into the home and took a second to let her vision adjust. Her eyes found Mera as they adjusted in the dark interior of the home. She always envied her friend’s long, straight dark hair laced with shimmery strands of silver, compared to her own rebellious hair. Her own dark, unruly curls had a life of their own and were a boring shade of chestnut brown.
Alena had similar shimmers in her hair, but hers were a pale lavender instead of her mother’s silver. Levra found herself wondering if Alena’s light purple would turn silver with age.
She pulled the woman into her arms. “Oh, Mera. It’s so good to see you.”
Levra looked at Alena, waiting for her to translate what she’d said into Ddaeran. But Alena didn’t speak.
Confused, Levra looked between Mera and Alena. They were both slightly taller than Levra’s five-foot-eight frame. Levra was tall for a human, but most Ddaerans were naturally taller and leaner than humans. Levra wondered if the height differential between the Ddaerans and the Founders would even out over generations of evolution. She shrugged off the errant thought and focused her attention on Mera.
Mera opened her mouth to speak. “Wol-kum, Lebruh.”
Levra gasped as she understood Mera’s thick words.
Welcome, Levra.
Levra let out a joyful squeal and squeezed Mera into her arms again as she glanced between Mera and Alena.
Alena spoke, beaming with pride. “She’s been practicing. She says she wants to learn to talk to you. In English! All the time.”
Levra had to fight back a tear that threatened to spill over. The Ddaerans humbled her, but Levra had a special spot for Mera.
“I thought your mother couldn’t speak with her voice? I thought she could only communicate by touch!”
“Ever since she met you, she’s been trying to learn to speak in the Founder way. She wanted you to be proud of her.”
Levra was touched. Mera’s husband died many years before, shortly after Levra met their family. When Levra’s husband left for space, it was Mera who provided her with a sense of belonging, she brought her in to the village and welcomed her completely as though she were one of them. They’d been able to communicate with Alena’s translations, but the ability to speak with Mera directly lifted Levra’s spirits.
“Oh, Mera,” she said gently. “I’m so happy for you. And so proud. Your voice is lovely.”
Alena translated, and Mera smiled warmly before replying with Alena’s help.
“You are a good teacher to my Alena. And she has been a good teacher to me. It is all because of you.”
“Alena,” Levra said, “I am so proud of you and what you have taught your mother!”
The celebration was cut short when an explosion of sounds outside filtered in through the open door of Mera’s hut. The sound of a weapon being fired followed by frantic screams drew Levra and her friends outside. Alena led the way out into the common area of the village with Levra and Mera close behind.
Levra glanced around to see what had caused the disturbance. What she saw took her breath away.
A young Ddaeran boy lay motionless on the ground, and a woman Levra recognized as the boy’s mother was kneeling next to him, crying deep guttural sobs.
Standing a few feet away from the body was a group of four men, clearly Founders, outfitted with sleek military uniforms, helmets, and plasma rifles. They all stood with their weapons pointed at various people in the small crowd who gathered after they heard the shots fired.
Levra immediately ran toward the boy and knelt next to his mother. Levra placed two fingers on his neck to check his pulse but found none. Fury filled her, and she jumped up and turned to face the murderers. She stomped toward them, unintimidated. “What is going on here?”
A scarred face with angry eyes stared back at her, challenging her with his frosty glare. “None of your concern, woman.”
This must be the leader of this—group? Scarface, she’d call him. Scarface and his death squad.
Her fingers itched for her own rifle, but it was back at home, locked away in the biometric gun safe. Dwyr was the last place she’d thought she’d need a weapon. She wanted to blast these assholes back to New Seattle for killing this innocent boy.
“It is my concern. I’m the teacher in this village. The boy, Joma, he is—was—one of my students.”
Scarface leered at her, spraying her with his saliva as he responded. “Then you should have reported his abilities to us. Maybe we should take you in.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. And since when is it my job to spy and report on the Ddaerans? I’ve never been asked to do that, and even if I had been asked, I wouldn’t do it. What did this boy ever do to you? How could you gun him down?”
Sweet innocent Joma. And for what? It made no sense.
“He didn’t report his psychic ability. A law was passed last week, requiring all Ddaerans to disclose their abilities. We came to arrest him, and he refused to come with us.”
“He’s only a boy,” Levra shouted, anger taking hold. “He was only twelve years old, you bastards. Of course he would resist men who came into his village, held him at gunpoint, and attempted to take him from his people. What did you expect?”
The man sneered, only his eyes visible behind his helmet as he glared at Levra. “If you do not report what you see here in this village, you are a traitor to your own people.” He turned to address the others in the village. “Let this be a warning to the rest of you. Report your abilities in the next 48 hours, or we’ll return—with more men—to arrest any dissenters.” He turned back to face Levra. “We’ll be reporting you to the Bureau of Ddaeran Affairs. You should expect to be questioned— if not detained.”
Without another word, the men mounted their hover bikes and sped off toward New Seattle, leaving the stunned village of Dwyr in their wake.
Levra stood motionless, feeling like she had stumbled into a nightmare. What is going on?
Her eyes came to rest on Joma's body and his grieving mother who lay collapsed across her son. No way she was letting this atrocity go unpunished.
Levra quickly formulated a plan and turned to Alena, who stood in shock with rest of the village. “I need you to translate for me, Alena. Tell the villagers and your chief. You must make a list of all those with psychic abilities. Will you help them?”
“Yes, of course.” Alena nodded, her large pale-green eyes wider than usual. “Right away.”
Levra’s mind sped over the events of the past few moments trying to make sense out of a senseless tragedy. She hugged Alena. “Don’t worry, okay? I’ll come back in the morning for the list. Tell the Chief I'll have more information then. It will keep them at bay for a little while, until I can find out what is going on.”
Levra hugged Mera and kissed her cheek. “Soon,” Levra said slowly. “I’ll be back soon.”
Levra pressed her hand on the distraught mother’s back. “I'm so sorry.”
Feeling inadequate to help the poor woman, she mounted her hover bike and sped toward New Seattle, searching her brain for possible solutions. How could she protect the Ddaerans? She had to find a way.
Gunnar. He was the only person she knew who cared about the Ddaerans as much as she did. Or at least he used to. But would he return in time to do anything to help Alena and her mother? Even if he did, would the Gunnar she knew and loved stand by her side
as an advocate for the Ddaeran people, or would the cold man she’d spoken to earlier today, the shell of the former great man she’d been proud to call husband, be all that was left in his place?
A cold dread settled in her stomach when she considered the fate of the Ddaerans was in the hands of someone who had become a complete stranger to her.
CHAPTER 3
Gunnar’s private quarters, SS Northern Light
September 5, 12 AA
Gunnar Shield stared at the blank screen for a moment after his wife ended the connection. When he pushed his chair back from the monitor, his commanding officer stared him down.
“Dammit, Shield. You are going to have to do better. Stand up, soldier, and salute.”
Gunnar did as he was ordered and listened to the tirade from Commander Blake Colton.
“Levra’s connection to the Ddaerans is vital to this mission. If you don’t get your act together, she’ll figure out something’s not right. If she learns of the real details of this mission and blows this mission sky high, I’ll execute you myself.”
“Yes, sir,” Gunnar replied, keeping his eyes focused on his own feet.
“Salute when you see an officer, Flight Engineer,” Colton demanded, his bright blue eyes blazing. “Make sure your wife thinks nothing has changed for you in regard to the Ddaerans.” He turned on his heel and marched down the corridor. Once he was out of sight, Shield turned the other direction and stomped toward his quarters.
He was on board the SS Northern Light, the same ship he and Levra took from Earth to New Eden, but this time as a crew member. The ship, already fit for travel in deep space, needed only minor updates to prepare it for the Altius missions.
When the door of his cabin slid shut behind him, he let his temper loose. “Easy for Colton to say. He’s not the one trying to live a double life.” He picked up a book from his bedside table and threw it at the wall. “He should try making nice with some bitch he doesn’t even like. Let him see how hard it is.”
“Some bitch, huh?”
Ana Chekhov slid seductively into Gunnar’s sleeping quarters and pushed the button to lock the door behind her. “Not this bitch, I hope?”
She walked toward Gunnar, swaying her hips and unbuttoning her blouse—very slowly—as she crossed the short distance that separated them.
Once in front of him, she kissed his neck and his lips. Her hand lingered on his chest, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Don’t play the innocent schoolgirl with me, Ana. Give me a reason to salute, whore.”
She glared at him and planted her hands on his balls. “How’s this feel, lover?”
“Better. But I don’t think you are giving it your all.”
She leaned in and sunk her teeth into his neck, drawing blood.
“Closer,” he said. “But you’re not there yet.”
She gripped the shirt of his uniform and tore it from his chest in one swift motion. She dropped to her knees, deftly undid his pants, and took his erect penis into her mouth.
When he groaned, she pulled away, leaving him erect and exposed.
“I think it’s time you salute, soldier, and earn your pleasure.”
She stared into his eyes as she stripped all her clothes off, and then lay on the bed taunting him with her naked body and then her words.
“You are a piece of shit, Gunnar. Lucky for you, you’ve got skills I can use.”
He smirked as he stepped out of his pants and covered her body with his own, planting himself deep enough in her to make her scream.
“That’s right. Scream. You deserve the pain.”
“Harder, you prick. You couldn’t hurt a fly.”
CHAPTER 4
SS Northern Light, Paradisi System, Andromeda Galaxy
September 15, 12 AA
The massive spaceship that was Gunnar Shield’s home in space was now back in the Paradisi system. With only weeks left before he descended the Nova Mere Elevator and reentered his life as a husband and father, he met with his lover to discuss their strategy.
“Levra’s got to go along with the plan to go to Rasia, or Colton will be unhappy. She can’t know of our plans for the Ddaerans.” Ana lay naked on the bed next to Gunnar, tracing the contours of his chest as they discussed what to do about his wife.
Gunnar grunted. “She’ll go along with it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Ana raised her eyebrows and twisted his nipple between her fingertips. “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna manage that? She hung up on your dumb ass last time you spoke. You don’t exactly have a way with words.”
“I don’t plan on using my words.” He eyed her exposed breasts, her pink nipples pointing toward the sky. He pulled Ana toward him and when he took her breast into his mouth, she groaned. He fondled her other breast with his hand while continuing to suckle her. When his teeth bit into her flesh, she gripped his hair and pushed his head back. “Be nice.”
His sadistic smile reached his eyes and he moved one hand up her chest, tightening it around the flesh of her neck. She gasped when his other hand traveled down her chest, trailing over her belly, and finally settling between her legs.
She crossed her legs, rolled over as she pushed him off of her, and stood up. “I’m not in the mood to do this with you,”—she motioned toward the bed—“while we are talking about the lies you are going to tell your wife.”
He sat up and glared at her with cold eyes. “I’ve been lying to Levra ever since Tortia, and you are going to get skittish about it now?”
“I’m not skittish. That’s a stupid word. I’m not a fucking cat.”
She pulled her pants on and then bent over to pick her shirt up off the floor. He watched her like a predator would its prey, licking his lips as she gathered her hair and fastened it into a messy bun on the top of her head.
“God, women are so emotional. What is your deal, Ana? Since when do you have a problem with me lying to Levra? What do you want from me?”
She stared at him for a while, her caramel-colored eyes burning with emotion, as if she were trying to collect her thoughts. “Levra’s name and foreplay with me don’t get to exist in the same place. That’s it. I don’t have a lot of other needs, Gunnar. Just don’t talk about your damn wife if you are trying to get in my pants.”
“Fine. I’d like to point out I already had you out of your pants.” His eyes burned with his intention.
Their eyes met and, for a long moment, neither said a word. She burst into laughter and sat down next to him on the bed. “You make a good point. Now that I’m dressed, why don’t you tell me how this is going to go down? How is all of this going to work, with you and me once we are back on solid ground?”
He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and pulled her toward him. “Nothing will change with us. You are who I want, Ana. Levra is a means to an end. You know that.”
She let out a breath, apparently relieved at his words, and nodded. He continued to speak quietly—almost gently—to her.
“After everything we’ve been through on this journey—together—you should know you don’t have to worry about her.”
Ana stood up again, crossing the room and resting her hand on the door before she turned and spoke over her shoulder. Her voice was brittle. “Good. Don’t make me have to kill her. I will, you know.”
He smiled, a devious look in his eyes. “Good idea, Ana. I think I’d like to watch you strangle the life right out of the bitch.”
“I’ll think on it, then. In the meantime, call her and make nice. We’ll be home soon. No time like the present for damage repair.” She winked and slipped into the corridor.
Once she was gone, he stood and closed the door behind her. Turning to his comm device, he pressed the button to initiate a call. His features changed into that of a friendly face. After only a few seconds delay, Levra’s face appeared on the screen, her curly mass of dark brown hair made an unruly frame around her face.
“What do you want?” Her eyes were cold and her lip
s were drawn tight.
“Hey, baby. I miss you. I’m sorry about the other day. I was having a bad day. It’s no excuse, I know, but we . . . Well, we lost a member of the crew, and I didn’t handle it well.”
“Oh my God, how terrible. I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes for a second and when she re-opened them, the angry lines around her eyes softened, but the anger still glinted in her bright blue eyes.
“Who was it?” Her voice was gentler, but still cautious.
“One of the medical doctors. It was a terrible fluke accident. Anyway, I needed time to deal. Forgive me?”
She arched her eyebrow. “You’ve been an ass lately, Gunnar. Not only this one time.”
“Things have been tense here for a while. I didn’t realize how difficult this absence would be for me. I miss you. So much. I need you, Levra. Please forgive me, Lev. Please?”
His face held the expression of a repentant man, shoulders hunched, eyes focused on the floor.
A little more time passed. He looked back up at the monitor, and his eyes held tears.
“Oh. Don’t cry, baby. Nothing to forgive. I’m so glad you are all right. And that there was a reason for your, uh—”
“Tantrum. My tantrum?” He chuckled lightly.
She smiled even brighter, and it reached her eyes completely this time. “I’ve missed you too. How much longer?”
“We are close. Two more weeks, I think.”
“Good. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I’ll make all of this up to you. I promise.”
She winked at him. “I’m counting on it. I actually have something you could really help me with…”
Levra told Gunnar about the horrific events she’d witnessed in Dwyr with Scarface and his death squad, including Joma being killed in cold blood. “This Registry order is too much, Gunnar. Do you have any weight with the BDA? Do you think you can do anything? Anything to buy the villagers some time. It’s not right for them to have to register their gifts. It feels very Nazi concentration camp to me.”