by Regine Abel
A few hundred people waited on the shuttle platform. It was uncanny how the Xelixian patrons were neatly divided into three clusters. The first group, smaller than the other two, wore fancy knee-length, sleeveless white or silver garments that nicely complimented the Xelixians’ light grey skin. They were mostly couples and the majority seemed to know each other as they chatted happily and mingled. They made me uneasy, reminding me too much of the masters that came to collect their new ‘pets’ on the Revenant’s hold. They reeked of that same aura of arrogance and sense of entitlement. An air conveying that those not like them were beneath them.
The second group was almost twice the size of the first. Their outfits were similar to the first group, except they covered more skin and came in various shades of grey made from cotton-like fabrics. Unlike the first group that seemed to be having a social gathering, the second group barely spoke, and when they did, they whispered. I wanted to stay with them to be among the first to board the shuttle when it arrived, but I would stick out too much with my dark cloak.
The third group, by far the largest, was piled up behind the first two, along the length of the platform’s back wall. They all wore black clothes which covered every inch of their bodies. Most wore the same hooded cloak I did, their faces shrouded in darkness. That group was dead quiet and huddled close together. The width of their shoulders and their flat chests hinted they were all males. While Xelixian females were on average a head taller, leaner and more muscular thanTerran females, their ample breasts were on the impressive side. I had read about a funeral cortege once – this group felt like one.
Various off-worlders in colorful outfits were scattered along the length of the platform and clashed with the almost clinical order of the locals. I wove my way through the crowd to the third group, regretting that my outfit didn’t boast the veil some of them wore under their hood. While most of the males were at least five inches taller than me, a few were about my height. I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my breasts. No one questioned my presence or even seemed to notice me. I almost felt safe – another nobody in a sea of faceless people.
At least thirty minutes had gone by since my escape, though it felt like hours. The alarm finally stopped blaring. A soothing feminine voice told us in Xelixian, then Universal, that the technical malfunction that had triggered the alert was now under control. In the next endless few minutes, I caught myself often looking for pursuers around the colorless room that enclosed the platform. My relief as I watched the shuttle arrive was short-lived when movement at the edge of my vision caught my attention. Doruk and his two minions stepped onto the platform, scanning the crowd.
I almost whimpered and battled my instincts to run. I huddled closer to the other hooded figures as my pursuers waded through the dense crowd. Their eyes darted in every direction, no doubt looking for me. The shuttle came to an agonizingly slow halt before the hatches hissed open. The first and second group surged forward, accompanied by the various off-worlders. Only once they were all aboard did my group move. It took all my willpower to keep my head from swiveling back to look for Doruk.
Dark spots appeared before my eyes, making me realize I was holding my breath. I inhaled a few deep breaths, feeling dizzy. The shuttle boasted the same white and grey colors of the platform. Though packed, there were still many seats available. I almost sat, and then realized that only people from the first and second groups were seated. The hooded males stood, huddled. That was pure crap, but I had more pressing things to worry about. When the hatch closed and the shuttle moved, I almost cried with gratitude. Until, through a window, I saw Doruk standing alone on the platform.
Where the hell were his minions?
They couldn’t grab me here as they would be hard pressed to explain their presumed ownership over a sentient being. For a moment, I stupidly wanted to throw off my cloak and taunt them. From all I had read about Xelixians, they were tremendously protective of females and slavery was illegal here. If those Guldans attacked me, they would get the beating of their lives. I held in a nervous giggle picturing myself sneaking in a couple of well-aimed kicks while my fellow hooded taught them a lesson.
I sobered. Now was not the time for silliness. My pursuers wouldn’t be that stupid. If they saw me, they’d have their bribed officials catch me in the city. I wanted to lock onto one of them to peer into their future, but while having visions, I was blind and deaf to my surroundings. There were too many people around me to risk it.
The trip to Capital District lasted an excruciating twenty minutes. It was a smooth ride as the shuttle hovered at high speed over the rail with a slight keening sound. In my distress, the beautiful Xelixian landscape outside the windows, with its green sky and beige grass, went mostly unnoticed. At last, we reached our destination. I stuck close to my group as we exited, casting furtive glances around me for signs of pursuit—assuming I had any. Thankfully, the sea of people bustling about the city center would make it all but impossible for any pursuer to find me.
Capital District was as monochromatic as the spaceport and shuttle. The city was made of sleek, towering white and silver buildings. It was a clever construction. With Xelix Prime’s two bright suns shining on their surfaces, I expected to be blinded. Yet, each building simply glowed with a soft halo. The only splash of color came in the form of bright red ovoid-shaped fruits that grew on ryspak trees. They also filled the air with a sweet and citrusy scent.
While there were plenty of other hooded people in the area, remaining exposed to prying eyes wasn’t a good idea. I joined the small crowd of off-worlders consulting an automated tourist information board. Leaning inconspicuously against it, I tapped into its network. First order of business, finding a place to hide and spend the night.
Reality sank in at last; I had escaped. I was free.
CHAPTER 3
Amalia
As luck would have it, I hit the jackpot while hacking the tourist info board when I found this closed seamstress parlor only two blocks away. It was a quaint little boutique that catered to the rich. The seamstress lived in a cozy apartment above it. I hacked the door open. Once inside, I leaned against the side of a large window and glanced around to verify that no one had followed. I checked that there was no one else on the premises, closing blinds and curtains along the way, before exploring the place I would call home for the night.
The four room apartment bore the same bland whites and greys I was growing accustomed to. Furniture was sparse but of high quality. After nearly twenty-three years of sleeping on The Revenant’s bunk bed, I nearly died of shock when I fell into the bed’s softness. I sprawled on the divine mattress with a moan of pleasure, waving my arms and legs over the silky covers. Turning onto my stomach, I buried my face in one of the plush pillows and inhaled its flowery scent. I kicked my feet and let out a liberating scream muffled by the pillow. Clenching it to my chest, I rolled around the bed, giggling like a child. Falling off the bed and landing on my ass with a loud thump sobered me.
I stood up with a wince and glared at the hard floor. Rubbing the sore spot with one hand, I tossed the pillow onto the bed with the other and walked to the next room. The fresher revealed another delightful surprise: a small bathtub and a separate water shower. Fuck yeah! I had heard of real water showers before but had never gotten to try one. I had a feeling we would get extremely well acquainted later tonight.
It turned out hunting for clothes to wear at the Fastening tomorrow was anything but a chore. I initially planned to steal something from the store but everything was far too fancy. That didn’t stop me from spending a couple of hours trying on half of its content.
And the shoes… Oh Goddess, the shoes!
I picked instead from the seamstress’ personal closet a sleeveless, light grey dress with a pair of dark grey pumps... Okay, maybe not the pumps. I couldn’t walk in them to save my life. I’d bust my ankles in three steps. Flat, dark grey slippers made the perfect replacement. Both the shoes and dress were a little loose, b
ut comfortable.
That done, I rummaged through the kitchen for something to eat. Out of the blue, I heard a weird tapping sound that multiplied and amplified in seconds, like a thousand pebbles pummeled the windows. I grabbed a knife from the counter and approached the closest window with hesitant steps, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
Standing by the window, I parted the curtain with a shaky hand to peer outside. My eyes widened in awe at the little pearls of water smashing against the window, before trickling down its length.
Rain! Oh Goddess, real rain!
It took every ounce of my willpower not to fling the curtains wide-open and gawk at the phenomenon. Worse, I wanted to run outside and experience it in the flesh. Would it be cold? Would it hurt or tickle as it landed on my skin? Would it taste weird? And smells! What would it smell like outside under the rain? My Nana was right. I didn’t know anything about life outside the ship. My heart clenched again at the thought of her. If not for those fucking surgeries, she’d be here with me now.
Tearing myself from the mesmerizing sight of falling rain, I returned to the kitchen. I made a cup of tea with the flexina leaves I found in a sealed container. Their soothing properties would calm me. I didn’t know how to cook so I was grateful the seamstress also had a food replicator. It listed the meals in both Xelixian and Universal – not that it helped me any. I had no idea what grilled rhomak or roasted khelfis were. I chose the rhomak.
Setting myself down at the small dining table, I sipped my tea while munching on the strip of dark, gamey meat dripping with herb butter. With it was a mixture of blue, green and yellow vegetables whose bittersweet flavor soothed the mouth from the spiciness of the meat. We had decent food on The Revenant, same as the crew, but this was beyond luxurious in comparison.
Nana would love this.
My heart tightened again, and the food lost all its flavor. Gruuk wouldn’t take out his anger on her. He would only hurt Maheva to punish me because he knew nothing could crush me more. Hurting her without me witnessing it was pointless, and Gruuk was practical. I needed to get her off that ship. I finished my meal with less enthusiasm than when I started, cleaned up and sat on the couch with the datapad.
My shuttle ride had given me time to process what I had seen on Xelix Prime, and it concerned me. Their population seemed segregated, and the hooded males’ almost subservient behavior was disturbing. Had I just escaped slavery only to land amidst a society that enforced another form of it? I surfed through as much information about Xelixians as I could find. Tomorrow, I had a major decision to make, and I couldn’t make it lightly.
Information about Xelix Prime was scarce and mostly dated. What articles I found spoke of their impressive military forces and ryspak exports. Eventually, I stumbled upon an essay written by a xeno-archeologist two years ago.
Xelixian males are desperate for compatible females – not that there aren’t Xelixian females around. However, since males significantly outnumber females, the Taint has forced them to turn their eyes to the stars. This non-transmissible disease affects both genders but manifests itself differently. Xelixians have stopped producing oxytocin, a hormone with various sexual and reproductive functions. However, loss of sexual drive and erectile dysfunction are the lesser concerns. Infected females also have a harder time conceiving and rarely carry female fetuses to term. Every male child they manage to deliver has an eighty percent chance of being Tainted.
Males suffer to a greater extent. On top of their lack of oxytocin, their dopamine production has plummeted. The deficiency in this neurotransmitter causes a slow degeneration of their nervous system. The progression of the damage is manifested by the accumulation of a black toxin in capillaries all over their body that causes a dull, throbbing pain. Left unchecked, the veins eventually burst and the toxin attacks vital organs. A Tainted male’s life expectancy is forty years instead of the usual one hundred and thirty-five.
Their scientists have attempted to synthesize the hormone and neurotransmitter, and to inject patients with drugs to stimulate their natural production within the body. All efforts failed. As of this writing, there is no cure, but the effects of the Taint can be mitigated or even reversed in males. Intense physical exertion or sexual release can slow, and occasionally even halt the spread of the toxin. The exchange of fluids during intercourse, especially during climax, is the most effective method, hence Tainted males who are mated, often called Norms, have little toxin under their skin and triple the life expectancy of single Taint affected males.
Less than five percent of the Xelixian population is immune to the Taint. They are referred to as Primes. Prime females are national treasures since they are the only ones able to successfully deliver female babies. They exclusively mate with Prime males, but there aren’t enough to supply the demand. This is why, in recent years, the Alien Mating Program has been added to the Fastening. While sexual compatibility is the only requirement for an alien female to participate in the Fastening, species that also produce oxytocin, such as Terrans, Dantorians and Aveans, are highly sought after by Prime males.
My head spun from this information, but it explained the class division I saw earlier. One thing was clear to me – I would choose a Tainted male. Primes were too much in the limelight, and I didn’t even know if I produced oxytocin. Plus, they’d made me uneasy at the spaceport. For a Tainted male, my choice was a matter of life and death. He would accept me no matter the horrible crimes I’d committed at Gruuk’s bidding. Since many of them were warriors, it increased the chances he could protect me if Gruuk came after me and might even help me free my Nana.
In truth, I didn’t want to bind my future to a complete stranger. Today was my first day of freedom. My entire life, I had been cooped up in a cargo hold, told when to eat, sleep, wash, and what to do. My wishes, hopes, and aspirations were of no consequence to my master. Granted, compared to the other slaves, mine was a life of luxury surrounded by a loving family.
Both my Nana and mother had been forced to mate with Korlethean captives carefully selected by Gruuk. Mom had been Nana’s firstborn. As a kinetic, Mom could manipulate any inert matter. It proved useful to create doorways in any solid walls during missions, open non-hackable safes or seal a hull breach.
Nana then had twins. Gruuk sold them because they didn’t have abilities of use to him. Her fourth daughter, my Aunt Aleina, was a kinetic like Mom. As soon as her abilities were confirmed, he shipped her off to one of his strongholds. After Nana’s Korlethean had been killed during an escape attempt, Gruuk didn’t force any other breeding on her. Instead, he turned his eyes to Mom. On her twenty-second birthday, she was bred to another Korlethean, giving birth to me. I never met my father. He was held in one of Gruuk’s strongholds since his foresight abilities didn’t require his presence on The Revenant, unlike Nana, Mom and I.
Until she conceived again, Mom would be sent to my father during her season. She grew to care for him and would tell him about me, and me about him. According to her, my mischievous streak and foul mouth came from him. I have no idea what became of Father after Mom died in childbirth. Had I not escaped today, that would also be my fate.
I looked around the cozy apartment with longing. Under different circumstances, this could have been mine. Yet, here I was, recently freed from one master and considering another through the Fastening? The Xelixians were a patriarchal society. Females were not subservient or treated as lesser people, but they owned no lands or titles. While they could have a career of their own, males were expected to provide for them.
The problem was, I had no career. What skills and experience I possessed, though practical, wouldn’t land me the kind of job one speaks of in polite company. I could see the scene from here:
“Hey officer, I would like to apply for a job in the police department.”
“Ok. What can you do?” the officer would ask.
“Oh, I can hack into anything. And once I’m in, you can’t keep me from peeping into even the most secur
e stuff.”
“I see… and do you have experience?”
“Plenty! I’ve helped slavers kidnap and enslave thousands of females by hacking into their homes. I’ve performed industrial espionage, planted false evidence to incriminate innocent people – some of which resulted in their execution, and stolen governmental secrets used to blackmail powerful individuals, to name a few. Should I continue?”
I barely understood the intergalactic politics and cultural dos and don’ts of the majority of the planets I visited during missions. With my Veredian heritage, I would stick out like a sore thumb. Rumors about a female from an extinct species would spread like wildfire and collectors would come after me with a vengeance. I could go to the local authorities and beg for sanctuary, but I was paranoid. Gruuk had a long reach. His decades-long dealings with Xelix Prime convinced me he owned many pawns here.
Through the Fastening, I would have a mate who could teach me how to live outside a cage. Females were the pride and greatest treasures of a Xelixian household. It would be his duty to try to protect me from Gruuk. I also wouldn’t feel so alone and helpless.
***
I awoke refreshed in the seamstress’ bed. After an excessively long shower – did I mention that I liked water? – and scarfing down scrambled khelfis eggs from the replicator, I got dressed. My outfit was more revealing than the Tainted cloak I wore yesterday; it exposed my Veredian markings. I arranged my long hair to hide the markings around my neck and donned an ankle length, shimmering light grey coat to cover the rest. I took one last critical look in the mirror. Satisfied that I could pass for a Terran female, I left for the Fastening Hall.