by Pearl Tate
My hand moves automatically at her prompting, brushing obediently at the odd angle in my mouth. Leaning past me, she fills the glass with water and passes it to me as I spit out the additional toothpaste. “I think you’re going to love it there. Remember the outside?”
Nodding obediently, I agree. The brown eyes that stare back at me in the mirror know the truth. I couldn’t care less about going outside. Every time I do, I have to make sure I have on sunscreen, and I don’t like the way it makes my skin feel oily.
“And all the other people there are going to want to get to know you. They have classes for art and crafts and music and dancing…” Her voice drones on and on as she passes me my pills and watches me use the bathroom. It’s been a long time since I wet the bed, but we still do this same process every morning and evening.
Without a word, I leave the bathroom as she steps aside and follows me into my bedroom to supervise me changing into my pink, ice cream cone covered pajamas. They’re my favorite and made out of a soft, thin material. I have two pairs that I rotate between.
“…won’t that be great?” When she pauses as I’m straightening my blanket over me, I nod and meet her eyes. Tucking Junior, my stuffed pig inside the top of the blanket, her little head rubs against my chin as I nod. It doesn’t matter what she’s said or whether I agree or not.
I don’t have any control—either over my body and definitely not over my life. I try to act normal, but inevitably my mother or someone else will grab my hands that I don’t even realize are moving to help me “settle down.” I just don’t seem to be aware of the little things I do to make them think I’m different. They just happen, just like the occasional seizure.
I’m trapped. Forever. Maybe not in this room that’s still painted the light blue we decorated it when I was ten, but in this life. In a body I can’t control, and a brain that can calculate but not remember to shower, even when I start to smell. It just doesn’t make sense.
“Night.” Mother flicks off the light on the way out, shutting the door to barely a crack, and I hear her move into the bathroom that backs onto the wall behind my head. Bath water runs as I begin to doze. The sound is soothing and lulls me into sleep.
The bright light I dream about surrounds me in colors I’ve never seen before. It’s everywhere, and for a while, I experience trying to control my body and not being able to.
It’s not exactly the same as my everyday life, but similar. The light gets brighter and brighter, like moving slowly toward a sun. I feel sweat pooling under my arms and goosebumps cover my skin as my heart speeds up. It’s going to wake me up, I know it!
But I don’t. Like the light my mother flicks off every night on the way out of my room—it just ends. And all is dark and calm again.
CHAPTER THREE
- Atticus
Staring at the larger male in the bed in front of me, I can’t help but feel thankful. Yes, I’m not in the most ideal situation myself. Promised to someone that I’m not attracted to, with a pending commitment ceremony looming closer and closer is bad.
But this male was raised in a group home on Quasar… he never knew his family. What would that be like? Never knowing who your parents are? Never having the slightest possibility of joining with another?
According to the brief conversations I’ve had with Vekel, he just did what he was told. Like all of us. But now he’s paying… and almost with his life too, as his body detoxes from drugs that it appears all his food has been contaminated with his entire life.
When we realized exactly what the issue was, we started the slow detox program that Hannah drew up. At first, we underestimated how compromised and dependent his body was to the addictive substance. He’s suffered so many seizures, that we’ve knocked him out for his own protection. Even though tomorrow will be twenty rotations, and he’s been taken off the sedation, he hasn’t woken.
“The same?” Brock questions me from where he’s sitting, reading a medical journal that Hannah shared with him. We’re so used to working together, that we often don’t need to talk. He’s my best friend and closest confidant.
“Yes.” Quickly, I roll Vekel’s large body onto his side and begin the daily shuffle of bedding around him. Even though he’s bigger than me, his muscles have deteriorated in the short time he’s been unconscious. If he doesn’t come out of this soon, Hannah says we’ll have to begin “physiotherapy” or what we consider rehabilitation.
Making quick work of the task, I toss the used bedding into the cart when I hear our patient mutter, “It’s wrong…”
“What’d he say?” Brock’s whisper behind me makes me realize I’ve frozen. It doesn’t happen every day, but often we catch him talking in his sleep.
“It’s wrong.” I whisper back. We both stay frozen in place, waiting to see if he says anything else. Not only is it interesting, we don’t really have much else to do.
Until the human females arrived, our jobs consisted of a rotation of health monitoring of the staff on the Discovery, the spacecraft that’s now rotating around Dactyles, Quasar’s prison planet below us. Now, with two pending female pregnancies, we spend every spare minute studying the female information we’ve gathered from Hannah, Shelly, and Beth who all permanently live on the ship with their mates.
A warm burst sensation shoots through me as I stand frozen in place next to Brock. If I had to explain it, I’d say it started inside me from my center before moving out through my limbs, leaving them tingling in its wake. What was that?
I glance around, confused. Vekel hasn’t moved or said a word, but I’m uncomfortable as I tug lightly on the collar of my standard-issue gray uniform. It feels scratchy on my chest as I pull the material and twist my neck slightly.
Brock shifts next to me, and I wonder if something is malfunctioning with the temperature on the craft when I hear a yell from outside the medical bay. More than one, actually. And the voices and shouts are escalating.
Turning, we run for the door, and they slide open before we reach them as another shout calls out. I don’t understand what they’re saying, though. Stepping into the hall, I notice two males embracing not far away from us. I’m shocked as they pull apart, noticing the one facing me has his flight suit gaping completely open.
That’s not the fascinating part though—it’s his chest that draws my attention. The normally plain surface is now covered with the intricate, highly coveted mating marks. The male he’s embracing turns slightly, and his jumpsuit is open, too. Neither look at us. Instead, their attention is on another male exiting his station across from them with his suit open too.
“It’s a miracle!” Echoes down the hall as more incoherent calls and what we now realize is celebratory hoots and hollers begin from the other side of us. Brock’s hands on my neck startle me before I realize he’s releasing the fastener at the top of my suit. Cool air blasts against my hot skin as the release parts with no additional effort, exposing my chest to his gaze.
I don’t even have to look down to know why he audibly gasps as feet pound behind me, running past. The yells around us are still escalating as I tilt my head down to look at my chest. Faint, light red markings decorate my skin.
Lifting my hand, I run my fingers over the decorations just over my heart that’s beating so fast, I can feel the pounding against my palm as I flatten it there. Hope and then thankfulness make me light-headed, and I slump against the wall to my right, sliding down the smooth surface and dropping onto my ass.
My breathing is loud in my ears, but Brock’s howl is louder and has me looking up from where I’m studying myself to see him jumping into the air. His own suit is now open to his waist as he leaps off the floor, his fists pounding against the ceiling. His flight suit continues to open to mid-thigh, and I’m given a full frontal view of his body.
His mating marks are darker, thicker and already more colorful. In most places on his body, there are more markings than skin and tears spring to my eyes. My prayers to the Sacred Mother have been granted no
t only for me—for both of us.
Brock’s family commitment would have broken him. In just the short time he spent at his promised dwelling before coming to the Discovery for his tour, he’d already had issues to work through. Now… now we are both committed to another… forever.
He dances away, still jumping and spinning in circles, celebrating with others who’ve come out of stations and conference rooms up and down the hall on the level we’re on. It wasn’t just us. Could it be the entire spacecraft?
Smiling so hard my face hurts, I watch normally stoic and serious males, running up and down, grabbing each other, hugging and admiring—all with their clothing practically falling off them. One overzealous fool—yes, that’s Ticon, has removed his boots and entire jumpsuit to strut down the hall with his arms in the air.
Brock bounces back over, almost running to me before throwing his arm out to pull me up and into a hug that takes my feet from the floor. He’s always been one of the largest males I’ve known, rivaling some of the smaller females on Quasar’s height. “Congratulations, my brother!”
I realize we’re both crying as his voice breaks in my ear. “Yes…” Sniffing slightly, I feel my feet touch back down, and we pull away, still clasping each other’s arms. “…we’ve been truly blessed. Congratulations to you, too.”
Pulsar claps us both on the shoulders, squeezing enthusiastically before bouncing off down the hall, his own open suit flashing markings that show he’s as lucky as we are. Not many have talked about the hope we’ve all harbored that the blessing that Bren started with the human Hannah would continue to roll out to us all.
With Earth so far away and protected in the Ashen’s zone, we could only wait to see how things would turn out. It looks like our waiting is over. But I can’t help wondering why and asking, “Do you have any idea why this has happened?”
Brock scoffs, releasing me to turn and move toward the door and back into the medical bay. “I’m certain I don’t care about the why right now, but you could contact Bren to ask him. He’s on the surface and has been since we arrived. From the sounds of it, everyone else is too busy celebrating to worry about that aspect yet.”
He releases me to hurry across the room to our patient, who’s beginning to stir again. At first, I think Brock’s just interested in listening to Vekel, but as I watch, he lowers the coverings to expose his chest. I didn’t think of that. Will he have mating marks like every other male I’ve seen on board so far?
CHAPTER FOUR
- Atticus
The skin on Vekel’s chest is still blank and smooth with no signs of any mating marks. Brock looks up at me as he lowers the sheet, tucking it around him with a solemn look on his face. It’s for the best, really.
The male is an anomaly on the Discovery. It’s become clear he was sent here specifically to watch us. A spy from the Council or just from the Sanctuary of the Sacred Mother where Callim lived before coming here? We just don’t know.
If he survives the withdrawal and any damage the substances have done to his body, we maybe able to question him. Right now, all we have are the vague and quiet mutterings he elicits during his dream state. Hannah seems to think that’s a good sign that his brain functions will recover along with this body.
Engaging the hold on the door so we can watch as others storm by with excitement, I pull up my private link to Bren on the surface of the prison planet below us. I haven’t spoken with him since they went down after our arrival, but Hannah checked in this morning to see how Vekel was doing. She mentioned there was some chaos yesterday evening, but it didn’t sound like anything that our males on the surface couldn’t deal with.
Dactyles is in a constant state of turmoil right now. We’ve learned, the prison planet was chaotic before too. The Warden Benard ran the place and due to the hierarchy, there were never any prisoner complaints that made it to Quasar.
No more, though. Now Benard is outside the dome and on the run— just like so many of the prisoners were before him.
“Atticus. Report.” Bren’s no-nonsense voice booms through my head, and I can hear chatter in the background.
“Bren… we all have mating marks. Brock, me…Pulsar, Ticon…”
“It’s the Ashen.” His voice is clipped as he answers. “They’re in a ship over my head as we speak. Many of the males here have mating marks too. It looks like the entire team on site right now with me and some of the prisoners we have with us here as well.”
I hear more clattering and raised voices on our connection as he shuffles around wherever he is. “Bring them all into the area there.” Bren’s obviously not speaking to me.
The Ashen? Now I really have questions.
Brock’s moving in front of me, bouncing on his toes as he mouths questions that I can’t understand. Holding up a hand to calm him, he responds by swiveling and pacing away, still bouncing around. After a moment, I’m relieved to see him walking out of the back of the medical center and into the small hall that leads to our living area.
“Atticus, I have to go here.” Bren sounds calmer but busy. “According to Sol, the Ashen have all the females in their ship over my head. Right now, I’m not even in the dome. You and Brock need to let everyone on the Discovery know that I’m not available to discuss it. I swear as soon as I have details, I’ll let you all know.”
“They’ll want a timeline on that,” I respond quickly. Hell, I want to know when. If I say I’ve spoken to Bren and don’t know when he’ll be back to us… I don’t want to deal with that.
I can’t make out the conversation on the other side, but a few pounding heartbeats later, Bren answers. “Before the end of this rotation. It sounds like there’s already a plan in motion, but it’s a two-stage process. Tell everyone to sit tight.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, I rush to assure him. “Thank you, Bren. I’ll let them know I spoke with you.”
“Very good. Once I’m back in the dome, I’ll send out a ship-wide communication saying the same, but it may be later before I’ve all the details of what they’ve planned from Sol.”
“Thank you, Bren.” My body’s screaming in excitement. I can’t wait to tell Brock! He hasn’t returned from our shared dwelling, so I move in that direction, wanting to pass this along before I address the crew.
“And Atticus?”
“Yes?”
“Congratulations!”
“Thank you…” My eyes are tearing up again. What’s wrong with me? The emotion I feel… is it all mine or could it be my mate’s emotions I’m feeling as well? Is this part of the mating hormones making themselves evident as my body changes?
This is it! Exactly what I’ve been trying to get Bren, Matthias, and Callim to share with me. I’ll now be able to document the changes first-hand, recording and documenting the biological shift that’s been such a mystery.
When Bren mated, he admitted that he’d been seeing Hannah in his daily reflections for a full annual rotation—after the fact. It wasn’t until he was fully mated that he showed me his markings. I thought we were close, but he claimed that he didn’t think it was a mating, just a vision with a beautiful female he’d be in contact with in the future. Someone that he’d have some kind of obligation to—not an actual fully-bonded mate.
Callim’s been the most accommodating to daily scans, at least while he was staying here. Now that he and Shelly have reconciled, she’s been less cooperative, and he just wants to please her. Not that I blame him. I’m sure I’ll want to do whatever it takes to make my mate happy.
Shelly spent so much time here with her Tirus X—now she tends to avoid it and the memories it holds here in the medical bay. Her sickness… Callim’s sickness…
Brock spins when he sees me behind him. He’s staring at himself in the reflecting glass in the cleaning facility. We have the largest and more than one since they are often used for patients who may have special needs. “Does it look like mine are more…”
“Detailed?”
“I was thinkin
g big? Congested?” Both his hands gesture to his chest where the designs are the most crowded.
“Well, you’re big.” Brock doesn’t laugh at my joke. Instead, he turns to look back in the reflecting glass at an angle, so I can see him as he lowers the release on his gray suit. Pulling his arms out, I keep my face placid, but I’m shocked at the coverage he has on his body. Some of his markings travel around to his back, decorating much more on his form than I’ve ever seen.
“Bren says the Ashen are below us in their ship above the planet and have our mates. By the end of the rotation, he intends to let us know what their plan is. Sol’s with them. There’s an agenda. I have to let everyone know.” I thought my words would distract him.
Instead, Brock’s family line arrangement of his hair unravels as his follicles lift from his frame. He spins to look at his back, and just as he’s turning, I notice the markings that travel around to the back of his nape and into his hairline. Incredible!
Stepping forward, I study the markings on his neck. They’ve already begun to darken. It’s almost a solid intricate design all the way around. Turning his head back to me, he smiles tightly. “I bet you can’t wait to document me.”
The look on my face must give away my thoughts, because he did read my mind. Laughing, he turns to face me fully, pulling the fastener closed on his suit. “It’s fine, Atticus. I feel the same, but right now…” Tugging me back down the hall toward the medical center, he smiles as he reaches to refasten my suit that I’d forgotten about. “…let’s go tell everyone the good news. Our mates have arrived, and we’ll be meeting them soon.”
The doors I secured to stay open are still letting in loud voices and excited chatter. Moving to the central console in the corner, I open the channel to address everyone on the Discovery.