by Alana Khan
“Yeah, doc.”
“Why?” I ask.
“The medbot, Nova, and I are going to be setting the broken bone back into place. It isn’t going to be pretty. Or gentle. Or silent. In addition to the meds the reptilians gave her, I administered additional painkillers. That doesn’t mean she isn’t going to make noise. Don’t get in the way. Trust that we’re doing everything we can.”
“Hold on!” Shadow shouts as he swerves. I would have fallen off my stretcher if Dax hadn’t caught me. I glance at Star, she’s strapped in at the waist and Nova and Dr. Drayke are holding onto her.
Dax pointedly puts his huge frame between Star and me.
“I know it busts your balls to lie here, but there’s nothing you can do for her,” Dax says softly.
I feel a pang in my chest. I’m powerless. I have to leave it to the doc and his mate, Nova, to tend to the female I love. I can only lie here.
“Dr. Drayke’s a good medic. He’s patched most of us up over the past months. He’s gifted. Your female is in good hands, brother.” Dax bends to my level, his kind face filling my field of vision.
Guilt forces my gaze to run from his. Even in my condition, with Star being operated on only a few fiertos away, I have to set him straight. Gladiators are a tight-knit community. They call each other ‘brother’ with affection, as if they’re all members of the same club. A club I’m not a part of.
“I was on my way to a gladiator auction,” I admit, “but I’m not a gladiator. I’ve never been in an arena. I’d never even held a sword until Zar gave me one a few days ago.”
Dax clasps my wrist, ensuring he doesn’t harm my damaged palm, then dips his face even closer to mine. I can see his pores and the sincerity in his green eyes.
“You don’t have to be a gladiator to be called a brother, Ar’Tok. Pain is pain. Suffering is suffering. Strength is strength. I don’t give a drack if you fought in the arena. You’re a warrior. That makes you my brother.”
My eyes flare in surprise and I swallow to hide the tidal wave of feelings swirling inside me. To be accepted on this level, with the depth of feeling Dax just shared with me, it’s overwhelming.
I grasp his forearm, ignoring the pain screaming from my palm, and ignoring the noise as the doc and Nova murmur to each other over Star’s comatose form. Dr. Drayke kept reassuring me that Star will be fine, I want to trust that.
I allow myself to feel welcomed, fully accepted for the first time in my life.
“Thanks, brother,” I say. My voice is tentative, but I grip Dax with even more force than before.
“When we’re back on the Fool, though, you and I are going to spar. I don’t know your story, Ar’Tok, but it’s obvious you have one.” He glances down my nude body, obviously referring to the roadmap of pain written there. “When I’m done teaching you how to defend yourself, I’m going to teach you how to attack. When I’m done with that, you will know what it feels like to walk in the world without fear.”
His green eyes give me a look hard as steel. “That will change your life, brother.”
“I’d like that,” I say as there’s a brittle snap, then I hear Star moan in agony.
“The worst is over,” Drayke says efficiently before I can muscle my way off my stretcher, push Dax aside, and assault the medic. “Now it’s just a matter of putting an air cast on her leg and treating her minor injuries. Nova, can you work on Ar’Tok while I finish with his female? Dax, you did well.”
I see enough out of the hover windshield to know we’re speeding through the streets of Drachau, the city where we’re staying.
“Time?” I ask.
“We’re twenty minimas away,” Shadow says as he makes a hard right turn that threatens to fling me onto the floor.
“Time,” I ask again, my tone tense. I assume he didn’t answer my original question because we’re going to be late.
“1850.”
“We’re going to be late?” I ask, feeling panicked. Ergonn may not follow through with his threat to kill all of us if Star doesn’t arrive on time, but the first person he’s going to hurt is Star.
“I’m comm’ing him now,” Dax says from his front seat. “I’ve sent several written comms and am trying to contact them verbally. I’ve apologized and said we’re caught in traffic.”
“His response?” I bite out.
Dax says nothing, which tells me he received a response, just not an encouraging one.
“How’s Star?” I ask Nova when she hands me the black leather kilt I was issued as part of Star’s protective guard. I don’t know who had the presence of mind to grab it before they came to get me, but I’m grateful to have it.
Nova’s quiet a moment, as if she’s having a discussion with herself in her head. I forgot I was told that when people of Drayke’s race mate they develop a mind-link with their spouse. Drayke was obviously talking to her.
“She’s fine, Ar’Tok. She’ll recover perfectly. You know what’s cool? This will give you the opportunity to help her convalesce. That’s how I fell in love with Drayke. He did the sweetest things when he was taking care of me. The best?” she says, a smile beaming on her pretty face, “My handsome blue male told me fairytales.”
As if she can’t keep her hands off him, she walks the few fiertos to him, kisses his blue cheek, then turns back to me.
“Try it,” she tells me with a wink. “When we’re all off exploring the rest of the Pleasure Planet, you feed your female with your own hand,” she laughs as if it’s an inside joke with her mate, “and tell her children’s stories. I guarantee it will produce excellent results.”
The restrained doctor, the male who never joins in the other males’ dirty jokes or songs, the male who always keeps his posture rigid and his thoughts to himself, reaches out and swats his female on the ass. Instead of scolding him, or batting his hand away, Nova laughs out loud.
“Here we are,” Shadow announces.
“Star’s completely out,” Drayke announces. “Let’s hover-stretcher her into the warehouse before I give her the antidote to the pain meds. She’s going to hurt like drack, but it will wake her up. I hope whatever she has to do can be done quickly. As soon as she’s finished, I’ll administer more medication.”
Shadow screeches the hover to a stop inside the warehouse. Dax and the doc stretcher Star into the open room.
Ergonn’s bodyguards are here, but they’re not shoulder-to-shoulder hiding their boss.
“Where’s E?” Shadow demands as I ease out of the hover taking care not to cut myself with the sword hanging from my belt. I’d been lying down for the better part of an hoara as we sped from Kimanji. Now that I’m standing, I feel every scratch, scrape, and bruise sustained on the climb up that hole.
Glancing at Star, I see she’s completely out of it. I’m glad.
Ergonn enters, flanked by two additional guards. The disparity in their height shines a spotlight on how short the male is.
“You’re late,” he scolds, even as he notices the tech genius is comatose on a stretcher.
“A slight mishap,” Shadow answers with a shrug. As always, the male is full of swagger.
“I’ll administer the antidote to the pain med in a moment,” Dr. Drayke says. “Ar’Tok, can you lift her and put her in a chair in front of the computer before she wakes?”
Eager to be of help, I stride to the stretcher and slip my hands under Star’s slight frame. I haven’t touched her in an hoara and the physical connection eases my heart.
When her limp form is in her chair, my hands on her shoulders keeping her from falling, the doc administers a shot. She moans, low and soft in the back of her throat, then the sound intensifies, and her eyes pop open.
“What?” she asks, disoriented and looking around.
“We’re at the warehouse, Star. I know you’re in pain. Dr. Drayke has set and cast your leg, your right shoulder is bruised, he gave you an antidote for the pain meds that knocked you out,” I tell her softly. “You simply have to check your
programming, survey that the bots are doing their work, and we’ll give you something for the pain and then get you back to our room at the hotel.”
“You’ll need to show me verification,” Ergonn demands, “and tell me when the project will be completed.”
“Yes, Sir,” Star says, her fingers already flying over the keyboard, her shoulders hunched so her face is only inches from the screen.
“What does this say?” she’s squinting as she points to a line of code.
“I can’t read your language,” I tell her.
She makes a few keystrokes and when the text changes to Simkin, I give her the information she needs.
“Double vision,” she whispers.
We work like this for long minimas, her asking me to confirm that what she’s writing is correct.
“Done!” she announces less than an hoara later. “Sir?” she calls to Ergonn. “See? Here and here it shows that the bots have infiltrated all Federation computers in the Ariz and Procul sectors.
“These dots signify the level of penetration. The greens are complete, the yellows represent those that are over half done, and the reds are less than half. If you look at the grid, you’ll see that the reds are deeper into the system, and needed to bypass several greens before my bots could get to work on them.”
Ergonn, standing tall, is face-to-face with Star as she sits. He leans closer to the screen, scrutinizing as she points to various dots on the grid.
“We’re actually ahead of schedule, Sir. Have no fear that we’ll be done in four more days as promised. I’ll be happy to meet you back here to show you progress in three days' time on one condition.”
His head snaps in her direction, clearly stunned that the female would dictate demands to him.
“You dare impose conditions on me?” he snarls.
She nods. “Next time we need to agree upon the time of our meeting. And you’ve got to allow a little leeway in case of an emergency.”
He scowls, but agrees, and I carry Star back onto the hover. When I move to put her on the stretcher, she shakes her head.
“Your lap, Ar’Tok,” she says. After receiving more pain meds, she nestles against me, then falls asleep within minimas.
Star
The last two days are a haze of pain, meds, hugs, and Ar’Tok’s sweet caresses. I feel decidedly better today.
“What time is it?” I’ve been sleeping off and on around the clock, so even though sunlight peaks between the heavy draperies I have no idea whether it’s early morning or late afternoon.
“Breakfast time,” Ar’Tok’s voice is gentle and encouraging. It’s one of the things that got me through the pain over the last few days. “Feel like an outing? I have a small surprise planned for when you’re ready.”
“Food!” I demand. “Then an outing.”
“Tonight’s your meeting with Ergonn. It’s our last day on the Pleasure Planet.”
“Sorry I ruined it for you.” Poor Ar’Tok has been imprisoned here with me the last two days when he should have been exploring all the things on his bucket list.
“Are you crazy? I got to lie in bed all day with the prettiest girl in the galaxy. Nova was right, feeding you with my own hand was an experience. Frankly, taking care of you was far more fun than climbing Kimanji.”
“Anything would be more fun than climbing that mountain. Well, actually, it wasn’t the climbing that was a bummer, it was the falling.”
“My Star’s back! I love that mischievous smile on your face.”
He feeds me fruit dipped in cream, and thick slabs of bread slathered in jam. I lick his fingers after every bite.
“If your leg wasn’t broken, I would tear off your clothes and bury myself in you.” His brown eyes spear me with a molten gaze as he bounds up and carries me to the shower.
After carefully helping me wash and dress and tucking me back in bed, he calls, “I’ll be back soon,” as he scoots out the door.
A few minutes later, he returns to the room with a hover-chair. It’s set up so my right leg can stretch out in front of me.
“Oh, you got me a sexy ride!”
“Only the best for you, Star.”
Once I’m ensconced in the chair, he hands me a box wrapped in purple cloth with a golden ribbon. “Happy Blessed Peace Day, my Love.”
I’ve never received anything so fine. My whole life my parents ordered things delivered by drone, but the way this package is wrapped, along with the luminous look in Ar’Tok’s eyes, makes me feel special.
“Go ahead,” he urges when he sees my hesitation.
The box doesn’t weigh much, but it takes up most of my lap. I take my time, pulling the ribbon inch by inch.
“Hmm, what could this be?” I ask, knowing he’ll keep a secret and never tell. Shaking the box, it makes no sound, but I feel the soft slide of fabric inside.
“Clothes?”
He just shrugs, giving nothing away as he bends on one knee to be closer to me.
Finally, I toss the ribbon to the floor and open the box. Inside is shimmering silver fur. My fingers slide through it and my eyelids flutter closed as I luxuriate in the feeling. I’ve never touched anything so soft.
“What type of animal is this?” I ask, hating that something had to die to produce this. I have to admit, though, I love the velvet touch of the fur.
“Synthetic. No animals were harmed for this.” His gaze is flicking back and forth across my face, trying to read my expression.
“Even better!” I pull the fake fur out of the box and see that it’s a small blanket.
“They call it a lap blanket. I wanted you to have it for our little outing today.”
Moments later, he’s brought me in my hover-chair to the back entrance of the grand lobby. Before he pushes me outside, he tucks the blanket around me as if I’m the most precious thing on the planet.
“The Multi-Pleasure Hotel is known for its gardens,” he explains as he hovers me farther from the building. We pass through a tall, arched wooden arbor gate. It’s intricately carved and so large it almost dwarfs my huge companion.
Once inside, it’s like a secret place. The air is more humid, the sound of the birds is sharper. Trees of every color curve over the stone pathways.
“Look at that one!” I point to one with turquoise bark.
“I think the scarlet is even prettier,” Ar’Tok says.
We stroll . . . well, he strolls, I get pushed around like an Empress. We’re like two kids, pointing things out to each other, laughing, enjoying the brisk temperature.
“This is it,” he announces when we’re almost to the back of the enormous garden. “Close your eyes.”
I’ve seen the changing of seasons on countless vids, but to be here, noticing the riot of colors, is fascinating. We saw nothing like this on the mountain the other day. I seem to recall my mom telling me that with the changing of the season some trees turn colors and lose their leaves, while others are ever green.
“It’s so beautiful and you want me to close my eyes?” I grouse as I follow his direction.
As soon as my lids are closed, he pushes me into the deepest part of the gardens. He stops walking as he admonishes, “No peeking.”
Then it hits me. I’m bombarded by a dozen amazing smells at once.
“Ar’Tok! What is this?”
“They call it the scented garden,” he murmurs, his lips next to my ear, his cirr jumping at the chance to caress my cheeks.
“Scented garden. It sounds magical.”
“It is. You’ll see in a moment when I tell you to open your eyes. But for now, just enjoy the fragrance.”
My dad bought my mom a very expensive bottle of perfume years ago. She cherished it and rarely wore it, telling us she was saving it for special occasions. The bottle was still half-full when she died. I wish she’d allowed herself to enjoy it more. Dad told me I could have it, but the smell reminded me too much of her and made me cry.
But this? This wonderful smell fills me with joy.
“I described something just like this when you were still on the Misfit,” he murmurs in my ear. “Like it?”
“I like it, Ar’Tok, but I love you for thinking of it and bringing me here.”
His warm lips graze my cheek. My heart bursts with love for him. He lifts me into his arms and sits us down.
“You can open your eyes, Love,” his voice is deep and tender.
I’m on his lap as he sits in a large burnished metal sculpture of a humanoid female of indeterminate race. She was obviously built to hold a person. My Ar’Tok is in her lap, I’m in his. His warm, brown gaze holds onto me like I’m his lifeline, which is ironic because that’s backward. He’s the one I’ve been holding onto since the day I heard his deep voice over comms.