“Explain what?” she asked, distrust clear. “I got my explanation from that wolf, didn’t I?”
No. No, she hadn’t. “What being Third Officer entails.”
There. That should give him some leeway in what he said, because Gaia knew he had no idea what he was going to tell her… or how he was going to tell her any of it.
Potatoes
Rainer hadn’t come home until after she’d gone to bed. He’d promised once again they’d talk when he got back from his current shift. This left her to head to the gym by herself and then gnaw her way through the Telemetry data.
The Telemetry data proved both familiar and overwhelming. Not exactly the same data or parameters as Ark or LightBearer, and she had to recalculate everything to account for NightPiercer’s different position with respect to Jupiter, the Earth, and the Sun, and even NightPiercer’s construction. The ship used different materials, had a different shape, and different exterior panels.
Luckily, Rainer’s engineering sandbox was a treasure trove of every design document, test, simulation and scenario that had ever existed for the ship.
It was also a disorganized mess.
“How the hell do you find anything?” she swore for the tenth time as she rummaged through the files that apparently had been organized under the It Makes Sense To Rainer system.
He sketched on tablets with a stylus, and saved everything as sheets, then lumped it together into various digital notebooks. There was AI that parsed hand-written notes and stored them as normal digital files, except Rainer’s notes were jumbles of equations, sketches, doodles, and what looked like pictographs or hieroglyphics that the AI had made no attempt to translate.
*ding*
She switched screens and surveyed the results. Nothing. The numbers hadn’t budged. She sighed and plugged in the next set of numbers and set the chimera-tablet to chewing on it.
*chime*
Oh, it was the door.
A member of Crèche stood on the other side. He smiled at her. “Good afternoon, Lake. Can I come in?”
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
“Just last-minute arrangements for Supervision.”
Her gut plummeted into her hips, and her mouth dried. “Ah… um…”
He nudged his way past her with the typical elegant forcefulness senior Crèche learned. “Sit down. This won’t take long. What’s that?”
She rushed over to the couch and shoved the chimera-tablet under a pillow. “Just something that lets my tablets work in concert. I brought it from Ark. Tech’s already seen it.”
She was talking too fast. She dropped her ass onto the couch and tucked her hands between her knees.
“Has Rainer told you about Supervision?” He sat down next to her.
She shimmied away to put space between them. “Ah… well, he told me the one sentence description. Is it really necessary? Can it wait?”
“It is very necessary,” he assured her.
“But Rainer and I haven’t had a good start.”
“All the more reason.”
The polished veneer annoyed her. “You do this a lot, don’t you.”
He nodded, a maddening smile never leaving his lips. “Everyone is raised knowing it’s a requirement, but most are still very nervous about it. We have it planned for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” she squawked.
“Would you rather have it be in the morning, afternoon, or evening? We generally like to pair it either before or after a meal time. That seems to work best. Some couples prefer the ritual of having a meal, then sex. Others prefer sex, then the normalcy of a meal.” He folded his hands on his lap and kept up that unwavering warm smile.
Her jaw hung loose. Was this guy for real? He wanted her to schedule sex? Why wasn’t he asking Rainer? Rainer probably had Very Important Things to do down in Engineering. Very Important. Too Important for this. “Let’s back up a moment.”
“Of course.”
She swallowed. Her throat was so dry. “What—how does it happen? Do you set up shop in our bedroom?”
“No. There are rooms set aside for this that have been wired for observation,” he explained. “Visual and aural. Three senior members of Crèche observe. There is a three hour time limit, so ample time to get over jitters. There are some things to assist.”
“Like…”
“Oh, oils, lubricants, entertaining toys, pornography, that sort of thing.”
Right. Of course. This was all just so logical and reasoned it made her want to tear her hair out.
“Allowances are made for awkwardness and timidity, but we don’t want to see a complete lack of arousal response, or a crude, quick breeding where the couple just gets it over with as quickly as possible. The goal is not insemination, and it’s also not trauma. If things get out of hand, we intervene, although that is almost never needful. We want demonstrative proof that the couple has some potential for intimacy. That’s why we do it so soon. Familiarity can masquerade as raw potential. We like to do this before a couple’s first sexual encounter.”
Intimacy. With Rainer. “I’m no expert on my husband, but his emotional profile is completely atypical. He’s got that Poor-Variant.”
He smiled a little more and chuckled. “It’s always so entertaining doing this with another Crèche. Rainer is fully capable of intimacy. I presume you two have not had sex yet?”
They hadn’t kissed or even held hands. They’d managed to not stab each other. The most intimate she’d been with him had been him washing and braiding her hair so she’d be presentable after Security had beaten the stuffing out of her. That didn’t count. “What can we do to put this off?”
“Reluctance is not entertained.”
“I’m also a bit beaten up.” She pulled up her shirt to reveal the large bruise on her side.
“You don’t have a Medical waiver. Lake, I’m certain you’re very nervous, but really, the room itself is just a room. You won’t be aware anyone is watching you.”
Except someone would be watching her, and she’d be put on the spot to fuck a wolf she barely knew and didn’t trust. “And what happens when things don’t go well?”
“It depends. About half the time it’s due to excessive nerves and we just try again a day or two later. Beyond that it is considered an incompatibility.”
“Will I get sent back to Ark?”
“We have been informed sending you back to Ark is not an option under any circumstances. We may be able to send you to LightBearer.”
“So I won’t stay here either.”
Crèche didn’t reply.
She twisted her fingers together. “You brought me to NightPiercer without being certain I would stay?”
He hesitated, then nodded.
She stared at him. “Why did you bring me here to die? We both know LightBearer will never take me. And you’re saying if I don’t stay married to Rainer, you’re going to cull me.”
That was the official Crèche term. Cull. That’s what they were talking about. Not being removed from the Pool. Being culled. The cruelest of math: what someone brought to the ship versus what it would cost to keep them alive.
And the cruel math had determined that the cost of keeping her alive was not a price NightPiercer was able or willing to pay if she could not fulfill her only function: bearing Rainer’s genetic offspring.
“That’s what we’re discussing.” She wanted to hear him say it. “I’m a cull, aren’t I.”
Crèche abandoned any diplomacy and said, “Ark considered you expendable. You hadn’t been branded a cull yet, but you’d been discarded from the Pool because of your borderline feral nature and disposition matrix. You had even been excluded from being offered a chance at surrogacy due to those traits. Your sister will probably carry your genetic offspring from the eggs that were harvested a year ago. You were junior enough in your Crèche career to be deemed replaceable, while four others maintain your Art. Ark sent you and we chose you because you were a loss both ships were wil
ling to bear.”
He could have punched her in her bruised liver and it would have hurt less. “You paid a hive of bees to take a chance like that?”
“I see the Commander has eyes everywhere,” Crèche said with a mild smile. “Sadly, for him, those eyes didn’t do him any favors. It wasn’t a hive of bees with a queen.”
“So what am I actually worth?”
“We didn’t want to publicly embarrass you, or the Commander, by having your true price known. So the cargo manifests were fabricated by the Captain, and Crèche loaded the palette. You were actually traded for potato cuttings.”
Rainer trusted Captain Tsu, and Tsu had lied to him. “Potato cuttings.”
“A strain your ship didn’t have, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I’m told they’re quite tasty.”
Crèche humor. Sick, sick Crèche humor. She stared at the low table, and the rug below it. The beautiful rug that had grown on Gaia under real sunlight, real soil, wind and rain. “Rainer doesn’t know about the cuttings. Does he know I’m a cull?”
“No.”
There was no arguing with it. There was only facing it.
“So,” Crèche said, “what time slot would you like?”
She almost burst out laughing, but managed to keep some professional composure. “Have you asked Rainer? My schedule’s pretty open, but his isn’t.”
“The Commander’s reaction to any Crèche request is usually ‘no’.”
Considering how they’d treated him, no surprise. “Well, go ask him. I have no idea what he’s doing tomorrow and I’m not going to pull him from something important like servicing a life support module.”
“It’s usually best to not make the male combative,” Crèche said. “It affects performance if they feel intimidated or bullied.”
“You’re the ones who made Rainer combative putting him through everything you put him through,” she retorted. “You brought me here and you’ll throw me away for something neither of us can control. Rainer doesn’t want to be married or want pups, you should have listened to him! And I’m the one who’s going to die for your arrogance. Get away from me or you’re going to find out how fucking feral I am.”
“Lake—”
This asshole couldn’t even pronounce her name properly. “Do you want to be ripped apart by an enraged war-form she-wolf, Crèche? Get out. If I’m going to die, I have nothing left to lose.”
“We wouldn’t have brought you here if—”
“Oh please, you compromised on everything and you got me for some cuttings. Get out. Now.”
This time he listened to her.
She wiped at her tears and picked up the chimera-tablet. She could finish this before she died. She set the next set of calculations to run, then decided to write a letter to her parents, and another to her sister. She told her parents everything and asked them not to tell Clotho. Clotho didn’t need to know the truth about being a genetic replacement.
She’d ask Rainer after they failed Supervision to make sure the datachip with the letter got back to Ark. He’d probably do that much. He genuinely believed she’d been traded for a hive of bees. He might just set fire to Crèche if he found out the truth.
She indulged in a long, hot shower while the numbers ran, then focused the rest of her mind on finishing as much of the Telemetry data as she could. It might matter. It might not, but she’d always promised herself she wouldn’t sit and cry if a void opened under her.
“I see you’ve gotten the news,” Rainer said upon his arrival.
She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. “Yes,” she said, unwilling to tell him the full extent of it. The only reason Crèche had told her was because she had been Crèche. They were trying to protect Rainer. Probably so they might be able to try again. They’d probably concoct some lie about shipping her off to LightBearer.
Rainer said, “And you sent that weasel to bother me instead of just telling him when we’d be there?”
“I didn’t know what your schedule was like,” she said, focused on the next set of equations. “What did you choose?”
“Morning. After breakfast. Then I can go on shift, and you can come back here.”
“You’re expecting it to be a cringe-fest too?”
“No, but I’m expecting it to be awkward and we probably both would like some time apart to process it.”
“Yes, good thinking.” Ideal. When Crèche came to get her, he’d be gone.
Rainer leaned over her. “You’re being excessively docile.”
“I’m working.”
He glanced down at the tablets, then at her. “Did that lizard from Crèche upset you?”
“Yes. A great deal. But he also made it clear it’s not optional.”
She set the tablets to crunch numbers.
Rainer leaned a bit lower. “Does the idea of sex with me offend you so much?”
She couldn’t sort out her feelings anymore. Rainer studied her like he expected to discern the source of her distress. “I’m having so many feelings right now I can’t feel any of them. Can we not talk about this? It’ll be just one more thing to crowd into my brain.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Please,” she said. She didn’t want to make this situation worse for either of them. Maybe it’d go okay. Maybe it’d be fine, and they’d muddle through and Crèche would be satisfied.
Small Talk
So this was what Crèche thought was the right setting for an erotic encounter. What disturbed her was the rug on the floor, and the paintings on the wall, and the bed clothes, and how it looked like a lovely, well-appointed private quarters.
“A deck of cards.” Rainer inspected the multitude of items arranged on the low table on the far wall.
“For strip poker, perhaps,” she said vaguely.
“With two people?” Rainer dismissed the idea as absurd.
She stared at the bed. Smooth, inviting bed clothes. Fluffy pillows. At least the lights were somewhat dim.
Well. Nothing for it. Time to get it over with.
“And here I thought I’d get the pleasure of charming you out of your clothes,” Rainer said as he heard the rustle of her removing her top.
“You’ve seen me naked plenty.” She tried to joke, but it sounded hollow to her ears.
“Not the same thing.” He watched as she removed her pants and underthings. “Am I supposed to join you?”
“I think that’s how this works.” She crawled onto the bed and rested on her knees, watching him. She couldn’t fake her scent, but she could well… try. Maybe if she didn’t smell of despair Rainer would just be able to… whatever. Maybe if she didn’t think about it she could check out of her body long enough to get through it and give Crèche what they wanted.
Rainer studied her, then obliged her by removing his own attire. He settled onto the bed, knelt across from her. So close her nipples brushed his chest, and the warmth of his body caressed her skin. His cock, still soft, brushed her thigh as he moved close. He reached towards her and lifted her hair in both hands.
Soft, gentle sparks moved over her scalp, and her skin felt like it sighed.
It made it worse. So much worse that she felt anything. Now it was wrong.
He dipped his face into her neck and inhaled her scent.
She focused on the softness of his breath, how his hands in her hair were familiar—he’d washed her hair—how it was fine, it was all fine, this was exactly—
Rainer’s scent was hesitant, uncertain, unconvinced.
Oh, Gaia, he didn’t want her.
Oh, Gaia. Gaia, Gaia…
He kissed her neck, very gently, just barely. Sparks shot across her skin, through her nipples, and down into her core. She jumped in terror, and the shaking started.
“We have time. We can go slowly,” he whispered to her.
Time wasn’t going to fix anything. Time was not going to change anything. The too-familiar sensation of
her eyes gearing up for another round of crying started. “I’m fine.”
“You’re terrified. I can smell it.”
“Ignore it,” she said, despairing.
“It’s impossible to ignore, Lachesis.” He pulled back and looked at her fully.
“Please, ignore it,” she whispered. “When was the last time you got laid anyway?”
“It’s been a long time.” Rainer drew the back of his hand along her neck. She flinched as every nerve prickled. Her heartbeat throbbed in her throat, and the panic knotted. “You’re crying again.”
“Am I? Oh, whatever.” She tried to dismiss it but the trembling worsened. Her body leaping into his touch made it awful. Not because she didn’t want him, but because maybe if this hadn’t been so screwed up, she probably would have come around. Now this horrible Crèche was forcing her, and it’d be ugly and desperate for the rest of her life.
The tangle of the past few days worth of emotions knotted in her throat.
Rainer said, “We have three hours, and a deck of cards.”
This was not the time for him to suddenly be a gentleman about anything! “I thought you said you were a beast.”
“I never said that,” Rainer corrected. “I asked you if you wanted to ask me if you thought I was enough of a beast to penetrate a she-wolf with a scent that begged me to stop. I’m sorry if you thought that was a rhetorical question. The answer is no, and your scent is begging me to stop. So. We stop, and you regroup. It’s fine.”
She sank down onto the bed covers, legs splayed. She stared at his scarred, muscled back as he retrieved the cards. “This is an easy way to get rid of me, you know. Just say I don’t turn you on. I mean, I obviously don’t.”
“Your fear does not arouse me,” Rainer said matter-of-factly as he returned to the bed. “You should know by now you are not the problem. Your fear is. So we just wait for the fear to pass.”
“I’m nervous, not afraid.” Maybe if she told herself enough she was nervous she might turn into just nervous.
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