I know that Cara knows most of this, but I can tell that it was never exactly her reality. Not until now. She looks a sweet combination of intrigued and also exhausted.
“It has been a very long day,” I say gently, and rise to my feet. “Let me show you where you will be sleeping.”
“But there’s so much more I want to know,” she says, stifling a yawn. “This is going to be my home, after all. And I’ll be one of the only humans to really know what happened here. In any detail, anyway.”
It’s true. I don’t know why any other human would care to involve themselves in the details of our little planet. The Firosans are hardly going to be written about — they were a peaceful people — which makes it all the more tragic that they are extinct now. It makes my heart cold to think about it.
“Well, what else would you want to know?” I bring our plates to the washer and stack them neatly. Aphrodite blinks her lights, not wanting to interrupt our conversation, and the foaming water begins to gush over them, cleaning them for me.
“So many things…” She smiles sleepily at me and I have to remind myself that there are a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t gather her up in my arms and kiss her eyelids. She is to be my lifemate but we haven’t consummated it yet, so she is not yet mine to do with what I will.
I am also determined that Cara will not fall for me when I know that I am not long for this world.
“One question and then bed,” I say, coming across a little more stern than I intended to. But I believe that I am right. Too much information in too short a time will just tire her out and perhaps make her feel more homesick.
“Ok,” she says, clearly not disturbed by my commanding tone. “What is the Catalyst?”
“Good question,” I say, surprised that it didn’t occur to me that Earth wouldn’t have the equivalent. As far as I know, their planet cannot speak. Or maybe just doesn’t feel the need to. I lead her into the bedroom and address my home AI. “Bed, down.”
The bed unhitches from the ceiling and lowers to hover above the floor. Cara blinks sleepily as she watches, too tired to be awestruck by anything new. I hand her some of my more comfortable clothing, a good alternative until she has her own things, and turn to look out at the moons while I answer her question.
“The Catalyst was a woman who was able to commune with Paxia herself,” I explain. “Traditionally, she was the wife of the King. And together they would live in the Palace of Varrasque.” I look up at the ceiling, fists clenched and brows furrowed, as Cara climbs into the bed with a soft, sweet yawn. “I, myself, do not feel that I deserve to live there, though by Paxian law I am the highest authority on the planet. But can an arena fighter truly call himself King? I don’t believe it is appropriate to—”
When I turn back to her she has already changed and tucked in tightly, her eyes closed and her breathing heavy. I find myself missing her curious blue gaze already, and I grit my teeth to try to get myself together.
“So, who is the King now?” she mumbles, surprising me by still being awake. She is so endlessly inquisitive. I find myself respecting that aspect of her. Not as much as I might respect a better warrior in the arena, granted, but it is a very admirable quality. She has displayed extraordinary bravery just by trying to make the most of her new life in a brand new solar system.
“I … suppose we don’t have one,” I say. The structure of society changed a huge amount when the Firosans died.
“But if you did?” she asks, her eyes open a crack again. The secrecy in her smile, and the fact that it’s only for me, makes my cock stir; I can’t help it.
“If we did, it would be me,” I admit, folding my arms. I notice her eyes trail across the bulge of my biceps and I can’t deny I like the way she is looking at me. Wearing my clothes, smelling my scent, lying in my bed … I can imagine the kinds of thoughts that might be going through her head. But I just don’t think I’m ready yet to make such a decision on her behalf.
If I impregnate her, as was my plan, then that’s it for her. That’s her life: raising children by herself. Without me.
Now that I’ve met her, seen her spark; the fire lit behind her eyes, how can I justify doing that?
“Well, King Wrax,” she says with a yawn, “where are you sleeping tonight?”
I have no other bed, so I will sleep beside her. But tonight it will be nothing but sleep.
I have to figure out how to explain myself. I signed up for the Lottery before I knew that I was a dead man walking. And now, it’s too late for me, and it’s too late for her. I can only hope that she wishes to continue my bloodline for the good of my species, and that when I’m dead, she finds it in her heart not to be too angry at me for leaving her.
She is already asleep. I gently push the golden hair from her eyes and resist the urge to lean in and plant a kiss on her plump pink lips. “My brave, intelligent Cara,” I murmur. “I’m sorry I brought you here.”
She was supposed to be mine, but now it can never be.
I have been a warrior for my entire adult life, but I’ve never known regret quite like this.
Chapter Six
Cara
My eyes flutter open when I feel Wrax’s warm body climb into the bed next to me, an hour or so after I fell asleep. He is a solid, comforting presence beside me and I can’t resist opening my eyes to peek at his chiselled outline in the moonlight.
I’m pretty sure I saw two moons out there at once, which would describe why it was so bright even at night. Luckily, Wrax’s walls, though they are made from glass, have tinted to block out most of the light. I wonder what they are called. I wonder what impact two moons has on their tides. I wonder what kind of oceans they have. I have so many questions that I want to ask him, but I can’t continue to bombard him, much as I’d like to.
Instead I settle just to peek at him. Then he opens his eyes too. One gorgeous golden eye and one mechanical red one. The perfect balance of natural beauty and technological beauty. The wonders of Paxia are written right there on my lifemate’s face.
“Hello,” I whisper. The corners of his mouth twitch but he doesn’t smile, or frown. He just continues to look me right in the eye. I feel exposed, even under ridiculously soft blankets, and swaddled in his comfy PJs.
“You should sleep, human,” he growls, but there is no malice in his voice; not really. I’m not scared of my tough alien mate, even though I probably should be. I smile instead, and he looks away. I know I annoy him, but that’s ok. His attitude annoys me a little too. We’ll get used to each other. Or we won’t. Til death do we part no matter what, right?
“Do you have marriage in your culture?” I say softly. “Husbands and wives?”
For a moment he doesn’t look like he has even heard me, but finally his lips part and he speaks. I can’t take my eyes off the way his skin seems to glow in the light of the moons that still slips in through the glass wall. “Lifemates,” he says simply. That’s the same term I heard before. It sounds essentially the same as a spouse on Earth.
“What’s the wedding ceremony like?” I ask. Will I get time to prepare?
“We have no ritual,” he replies, closing his eyes pointedly. He thinks we should sleep, not talk; I get it. But the questions are exploding from me and I can’t stop them. I’m bursting at the seams with fascination.
“So you just decide?” I press. I am determined to get at least the answer to this one last question, otherwise I’ll never be able to get back to sleep. I’ll be imagining strange alien weddings.
“Lifemates occur when the relationship is consummated,” he mumbles. “There is a claiming.”
It takes me a while to realize what he is actually saying. All the implications of his words. I blush furiously and try to gather my thoughts. When is this going to happen? What’s his plan for me? For us? He doesn’t seem to be in any rush, as far as I can tell.
“W—” I begin, but I have no idea what I’m about to say, so I’m glad when he interrupts me.
“Don�
��t fret,” he says, opening his one golden eye and furrowing his brow at me across the pillows. He leans in closer, just slightly, to give his next words more impact. I shiver as the heat of his breath warms my skin. “I have no interest in consummating anything with a woman who does not want it. More than life itself.” His voice is low, gravelly, and supremely, unfairly hot. I feel the power and the meaning behind his words travel all the way down between my thighs, and I know I’m getting Wrax’s clothes all wet.
But it’s his fault.
I imagine all the women back on Earth who would want to fuck him more than life itself.
I have never seen a specimen like him before. He is perfection. He is the most beautiful thing I think I have ever seen. Sturdy and thick as an oak tree. Defined, masculine features. I swallow. I have no idea how to respond to him.
He rolls over to face in the other direction, and his breathing becomes a little heavier, leaving me alone to lie reeling, and squirming, from his words.
A woman who wants him — who wants his cock — more than life itself.
I clench my thighs together. I can’t help but imagine it. Imagine myself begging for it.
It takes me a lot longer than normal to get to sleep. I have to resist bringing my hands down between my legs while I think about how big his cock probably is, and how much he expects me to want it as time goes on. I can’t help but wonder why I’m feeling this way with him, with Wrax. He may be an Adonis but he is completely uninterested in me. That’s pretty damn typical, isn’t it?
The next morning I am gently roused from my deep sleep by a type of birdsong that I don’t recognize as being native to California.
As sleep leaves me, I sit up straighter and am struck very suddenly by the memory of where I am. Not in California. Not even in the states at all. A shudder runs through me and I don’t know if it’s because I’m anxious, excited … or because Wrax is stretching in front of me in nothing but impossibly tight brown leather pants. Of course they use leather here — they try to live with nature as well as they possibly can.
I wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of me.
He works his muscles one by one, and ends this morning ritual by reaching up high and arching his back. His back muscles constrict and his biceps roll fluidly under his smooth skin. I swallow.
The birds outside don’t let up, and I hop out of bed, watching with only a little alarm as the luxuriously soft surface glides upwards to click back into the ceiling, allowing for maximum floor space.
“What are they?” I ask. I can’t help it; I start my first full day on Paxia asking questions as I make my way to stand beside Wrax, looking out over the bustling city. Right outside the windows, perched on several twisting roots and reaching branches, are a group of birds ranging in color from a drab sickly gray to a full shimmering rainbow. “Those ones are gorgeous,” I breathe, pressing my hand against the glass. They have long curved beaks, bored expressions and a rich, fascinating plumage in almost every color.
“What?” Wrax asks, barely even registering the amazing animals right outside. “The tousorin?”
“Yeah, those.” I watch them further, noting that only the eye-catchingly bright birds are singing that haunting, beautiful song. The drab ones simply hop left and right and ruffle their own feathers. “Are they the same species?”
“Yes,” he says simply, and then when he sees me itching for more information he sighs and parts with it. “The gray ones become like the prettier ones when they find their lifemate.”
My mouth opens and forms a little ‘o’. “That’s so cute! And then they learn to sing that song?”
He shakes his head. “They could always sing that song.” He pulls on a cloak and looks me right in the eye. “It’s just that they hadn’t yet found the one worth singing for.”
With that, he turns on his heel, royal purple cloak swishing around his ankles, and he leaves the room.
I trip after him. “Where are we going?” I call.
“We are going nowhere,” he snaps back. “I must train. I have the match of a lifetime coming up soon and I cannot afford to slip if I am to win.”
“Cos if you don’t win…” I begin, with a small laugh. He isn’t smiling, and my face falls in response. Oh, wow. It hadn’t even hit me until now. My future lifemate’s job means that his life is on the line, all the time. I’m not sure how I feel about that at all. “Um, sure, I understand. Please be careful.” The last line comes out a bit weedy and pointless, if you ask me, but it just slipped out. And I do mean it. He might be brusque and unpleasant but he is the only for sure ally I have on this planet.
In this solar system, in fact.
“I have left your list of tasks on the table,” he adds, and then he steps out of the large sliding door, falling off the cliff face and making me scream and clap my hands across my mouth.
And then, of course, the hovercab with him safely inside zooms into view and then across the city, back towards the arena.
“Well, I guess that’s that, then,” I mutter to myself, and I go to look at my ‘list of tasks’ that he has so kindly left behind for me to take care of for him.
“Are you talking to me?”
I jump out of my skin for the second time in just a few seconds. “Aphro, you scared me.”
“Has the second half of my name fallen out of your head?” she asks kindly.
“Sorry, we like to shorten things.” I pause. “Us organics don’t have much time alive, you see.” I figure she’ll enjoy that explanation.
“That’s certainly a perspective with merit, Cara, thank you for sharing it.”
I clear my throat and begin to read the list out loud. Whether or not the idea of a truly sentient AI freaks me out (spoiler: it does) I have to admit it is nice to have some company that isn’t Wrax.
“He wants me to tidy the apartment? The whole place?” I tut and shake my head, getting ready to screw up the paper into a little ball. “I was a damn lawyer!”
“Don’t express anger yet, Cara. You just have to set the house system to clean.”
The house system? I look up at the ceiling. “I thought that was you?”
I can almost hear her shaking her head. Lights blink and flicker in the walls and across the floor. She is everywhere. “The house system is a primitive one — like you might find on Earth,” she adds helpfully. “I communicate with it on your behalf.”
Oh. That’s … pretty cool. “Ok, Aph,” I say, kind of trying to irritate her now. Can you irritate a ubiquitous collection of 1s and 0s? “Set the house to, uh, clean!”
There is a pause and I know I’ve messed up the command. Been too general. But she is patient enough. “Ok, Cara. It’ll be taken care of.”
I look back at the list, thinking that this is super easy. But what do I do when I’ve finished all of his chores? “Pick up ingredients you want for dinner.” I look around, lost. On the surface it’s a pretty easy thing to do, but I don’t know where the stores are, I don’t know where his money is (or how to spend it or calculate it…) and, hell, I don’t even know how to get down from this stupid mile-high apartment.
“Aphroditeee,” I call. “Don’t leave me, I need help!”
It takes a while for me to get the courage up to hop the two feet into the hovercab, but in my defense there is something like a 300-foot drop if I screw up.
Finally we (and by we I mean me, and the omnipresent voice of Aphrodite) alight in the market district. “What’s this city called?” I ask before I open the door to hop out into the busy crowd of tall, thick Mahdfel shoppers.
“The Firosans were a people of necessity. They called their only city ‘the city’. They called me the Firosan equivalent of ‘the AI’. Paxia was not called ‘planet’ simply because the Firosans claimed she named herself.”
I don’t really want to jump out into the crowd just yet so I sink back into the comfy seats and take a breath. “Claimed?” I repeat. “You don’t believe that Paxia, uh, speaks?”
“D
o you?”
I scrape my teeth over my lower lip. “I can’t say I completely believe it, but to be honest, Aphrodite, I didn’t believe anything like you existed, either.”
“There is a difference,” she says, as if explaining letters to a child, “between the theoretical limits of science being reached, and a goddess possessing a habitable planet.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so instead I thank her and pop the door open. I dangle my legs out of the vehicle and drop onto the dusty floor.
Aphrodite explained to me that she holds the economy in her non-existent hands. Charges are automatically given and taken by her. Physical money doesn’t exist on this planet, it’s more like points or credits that you own in cyberspace. Closer to a system of debit cards, except you yourself are the card, and Aphrodite confirms your identity. This means identity fraud and money theft is actually impossible here, right? Which is pretty cool.
All around me there are stalls selling bolts of expensive-looking cloths and exotic spices. It reminds me of a bazaar back on Earth, and it’s a wonderfully stark contrast to the robot-run flying car I’ve just jumped out of. This planet is so strange.
Mahdfel in varying shades of purple and varying colors of cloak push past me and haggle loudly in language too fast and too plentiful for Aphrodite to try to translate for me, so all I can hear is a general exchange of guttural syllables.
They all take the time to turn and look at me, but nobody approaches me or stares for too long. A couple of Mahdfel dressed in reds or purples bow slightly as I pass and then turn back to their own conversations.
They look as varied and different as humans, almost, but they all have something in common: they are all at least double the mass of me. It’s good that they are fairly famous for being so respectful and honorable as a race, or I would be quite frightened.
Wrax Page 5