by Angel Lawson
I’ve read his public profile. Graduated top of his class at John Hopkins. Was on the front lines of gynecology when the first Trad babies started being born. Emperor Elrin invited him personally to come work with the transition facility to ensure the safety of the women.
“Did you know I spent three years working with Doctors Without Borders in Southeast Asia?” he says suddenly.
“No, I didn’t. That sounds fascinating. Tell me about it.”
“I was young—just out of med school, and it’s often left off my official profile. They like the esteemed stuff better.” He takes a sip of water from the glass on his desk. “It was in the jungle that I saw my first Trad/human birth, like right in the middle of a straw hut in a farming community. The woman had been in immense pain for days and her family was very worried. They’d heard that there was an American doctor in a nearby village and sent someone on foot to come get me. When I arrived, the woman was exhausted and dehydrated. Her family was in shock that she was even pregnant. It seems the Tradrych slipped in her hut, seduced her and impregnated her before vanishing entirely. She thought it was a dream, but obviously it wasn’t.” He pops a small biscuit into his mouth. “Imagine my surprise when the baby comes out with blue skin—then multiply that surprise by ten and you’ll know what her family was feeling.”
“Wow, that’s…that’s an amazing story.”
“There’s no telling how many Trad babies there are on Earth. They invaded the four corners—places modern society hasn’t even reached.”
The thought is chilling but Dr. Kane doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. “What did the family do with the baby?”
“They kept him and I learned later that she actually had four other children by the same father.”
I drop my fork, stomach turning. “He raped her again?”
He frowns. “Mei Lyn didn’t view it as rape. She willingly gave herself to the man that appeared in her hut.”
I shake my head. “With all due respect, that’s not how it works. These women are tricked—deceived. They have no idea who the real father is, what he looks like or where he’s from.”
“True, but each relationship is different and it’s not for us to judge how a child is brought into this world. It’s our job to make sure the mother and baby are healthy.”
I can’t argue with that, even though his views make me a bit disturbed. He’s a scientist first and foremost, I know this.
“Do you know how they do it?” I ask.
His eyebrows raise. “Do what?”
“Change their appearance? Make themselves so appealing to women?”
He hesitates and leans back in his seat. “It’s my understanding there’s a metamorphosis. They’re capable of changing their DNA to match a human’s. It makes them undetectable by blood test. As to how they attract women? I suspect they alter their pheromones to match a female’s desires. Fertility is a big one. Physical attraction is another. They’re skilled lovers.”
I’m glad I’m no longer eating when he declares that.
“Do you know what they look like when they’re not disguised as humans?”
This has remained a mystery to humans on Earth, but I’m curious if Dr. Kane knows. He shakes his head. “I’m no more privy to that information than you are.”
“Have you heard the rumor that the missing girl may have been kidnapped by a Trad? That there could be one in the facility?” Why am I saying so much? Gossip and rumors? I feel silly.
“I have heard those rumors but I find them unlikely. The Custos have this facility incredibly secure. There’s no way they’d give the enemy an opportunity to cross their borders and pillage the women they hold in such regard.” His eyes hold mine and I feel unnerved, knowing I’m one of those women. Not because I’m scared but because Dr. Kane seems to appreciate the value I and the others hold in this society.
Both of our data pads chime, alerting us to our next patient’s arrival in fifteen minutes. I stand and smile, “Thank you for inviting me to lunch.”
“Thank you for the company and conversation. Hopefully we can do it again.”
I take his trash and my own and return it to the break room, before stopping in the bathroom to freshen up. I’m surprised to see the flush on my cheeks—further proof that Dr. Kane has an effect on me. Not just his looks but his wisdom. He’s seen so much of the world—make that worlds--that I hope we’ll get the opportunity to spend more time together in the future.
A week passes with no more alarms and our schedules return to normal. Escorts are no longer needed but that doesn’t seem to apply to me. Kai, Dimka, or Alex are always nearby, giving me opportunities to get to know them a little better. It’s in blatant disregard to what Dr. Kane advised, but I came to the decision that if he wanted input on how I handled my relationships, he’d need to declare his interest. So far, he hasn’t, which means he has no say in who I speak to.
One pastime we’ve been introduced to on Athion is the weekly match of Billabull. It’s a game between two teams, and as much as I’d like to compare it to something like American football or soccer or even basketball, it’s nothing of the sort. Maybe roller derby? Players wear speed boots and helmets and join in a high-speed chase, involving tackling, punching, and occasional scrums. The point system is beyond logic.
I attend one of the matches with my roommate, Rose, who seems completely enamored of the game, which may or may not be more about the leading scorer of the silver team. I think she likes him and his warm blue skin and handsome face. By mid-point I find myself bored, and tell her I’m headed out for some air. I don’t think she notices.
I’m not the only one milling about—other groups of people huddle together, drinking the ale sold in the concessions area. I wander about a little aimlessly until I get the sensation of being watched. I search the area and find a familiar lanky body leaning against the railing that surrounds the gymnasium. Dimka’s hands are in his pockets, his eyes focused on me. I feel unnerved and a little bit thrilled to have his attention. The Athion is a mystery and the adventurer in me wants to explore him.
“Not a fan?” I ask as I get closer.
“Not really.”
“I can’t make heads or tails of the game. I would think you’d be at least able to follow it.”
“We didn’t have billabull on the Southern Tip. Other sports, but…”
I tilt my head. “But what?”
His jaw tightens—then releases. “I’m just not a fan of games, I guess.”
“I played softball in high school—catcher. Are you familiar with it?”
“Vaguely. It’s where they throw the leather ball and someone hits it with a stick?”
I laugh at his basic, yet accurate, description. “Yep. Men play baseball, primarily. Women softball.”
He looks me up and down. “You seem agile and strong. I assume you were a good player?”
“Pretty good—for my team, at least.” I lean on the railing next to him. My elbow grazes his. “So you didn’t play sports? At all?” I’m surprised, because he looks incredibly athletic.
“I didn’t say that. I said I wasn’t a fan of them.”
There’s a touch of hurt in his voice. Wistfulness. I turn to face him. I’ve known closed-off souls before, but maybe not one as visibly distant as Dimka. “Then why are you here? I’m sure you could spend your time more wisely.” I laugh. “I know I could.”
He turns to face me and it’s like I’ve been rocked by a jolt. There’s a fierceness to his expression—anger in his eyes. “I spent years playing games—by force. A slave to the whims of gamblers. I promised myself I would never watch another game in my life—for fun or otherwise--if I got off that Laird-forsaken moon.”
“That’s—that’s terrible, Dimka, I had no idea.” I exhale, considering what he said. “Then why come here? Why are you torturing yourself?”
His eyes skip over me. His hands are tight fists by his side. “Because this is where you are, Mercy Ladd, and where you are, I wil
l also be.”
His words rock me. It’s the most he’s ever said, but I sense their ferocity. I know this, because I feel it, too.
I reach my hand out to him. “Come, let’s go somewhere else. Somewhere that we both want to be.”
He glances at my hand and back up at my face. I raise my eyebrows and keep my reach out to him. He’s hesitant, like he’s almost afraid to touch me, but he does.
He does.
Hand warm, fingers tight. Together we walk away from the crowded gaming area down to a little park. There’s a small lake and a big fountain in the middle. The design is artistic, not like ours back home which are often blocky. This fountain is made of shimmery metal and the water ripples off of it in waves, pooling at the bottom to make the lake. A path circles around the edges, made of the same common stone all over the facility. I feel a rush being alone with him out here, away from the crowd and noise.
“How did you escape slavery?” I ask, when we’re on the far side of the lake.
“The Custo knew the Master was carrying on his criminal enterprises, he’s just very skilled at hiding. Eventually they found us and I was freed.”
“You didn’t want to return home?”
He shakes his head. “No. That part of my life seems very far removed from who I am today. The Custo asked me to join them and I agreed. Keeping watch over the women of Earth is an important job.”
He leads me to a small bench overlooking the lake, keeping our hands intertwined.
“It’s hard to get used to being treated with such importance,” I say, hearing a cheer from the billabull match.
“What do you mean?”
I shrug. “Not all men treat women well on Earth. Depending on where you live, some didn’t have any rights at all, and even those of us who did didn’t earn them until more modern times. We’re often considered the weaker sex physically, if not mentally inferior.”
He stares at me long and hard. “You’re playing a trick on me.”
“I’m not.”
“How?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet rage. “You’re the bearer of life—the queens of your planet. You’re beautiful and soft and smell sweet like flowers.” His fingers tremble but reach for my face, grazing my cheek like it’s made of glass. “All my life I’ve dreamed of a woman like you—it’s what got me through the Pits, the fights, the lashings. Just knowing I could one day be in the presence of something so good and pure kept me alive.”
His words seem extreme, but they match his motions and I feel myself lulled by his words. “I’m glad you survived so that we could meet.”
“I’m glad you risked everything to come to Athion.” He looks up to the stars and the moon-filled sky. “Sometimes I think Laird sent you for us to find.”
“Us?”
He shifts his gaze to me. “My unit. We’re brothers. We share everything.”
A thrill runs up my spine, sending tingling waves down my limbs. Part of me wants to jump this Athion, press my body against him and see what’s really going on between his legs, but the rational part knows it’s too fast. He’s not ready. Maybe I’m not ready, and this moment of sharing and hand-holding is a giant step toward something bigger with not just him but Kai and Alex as well.
So I push back on my lust and press my arm against his, feeling his hand linked with mine and I ask him more about his home, his family and life, and do the same in return.
11
Kai
The Custo barracks lack a particular comfort. We have individual sleeping quarters and a shared living space and kitchen. Most of us eat in the Custo dining area though, and although it’s a relatively comfortable space, it’s not exactly cozy. No photos. No reminders of home. We’re here for a purpose, one we shouldn’t forget.
We’re assigned our living quarters with our unit, which means that I share space with Alex and Dimka. Our fourth is out on an assignment—undercover in with the Trads. Not one of us has heard from him in months.
These three, and Damon, were handpicked by me when I was given the role of commander. It’s a luxury we’re given in the Custo. Trust is more important than anything else. We’re dealing with precious life—the future of our society—there can’t be any doubt.
It’s a rare moment we’re all off duty at the same time, but one we take advantage of. Once a week, during the hours that the dormitories are on curfew for the night and under lockdown, we gather in our unit with a bottle of drink.
The dark reddish liquid fills our cups and we sit around the flat, slate gray table in our sitting area. Alex’s feet are propped on the surface, his cup in his hands. The alcohol affects his human physiology faster than either me or Dimka, and his red cheeks always make me laugh.
“Where did you and Mercy go off to last night?” Alex asks Dimka after pouring himself another drink.
“Neither of us were interested in the match, so we took a walk.” He sits with his back straight and on alert—the Athion never relaxes. “I find her pleasing to talk to.”
“And look at,” Alex agrees. “I’ve always had a thing for gingers.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A what?”
“A redhead. That’s one of our words for it.”
“It’s very appealing.” Dimka nods. “No one has that shade of hair on the Southern Tip. It’s like fire—matches her spirit. Her scent…”
“It is very arousing,” I admit. “And in a different way than most.”
Alex studies the two of us. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“Yes,” I say, taking a drink. Dimka nods.
“What’s it like to be around a human female?”
Dimka lifts his cup, a signal I should start. “When the females on Athion started dying from the virus, life just became different—more about survival and finding a solution. For some of us it meant considering we’d never have female companionship, so we threw ourselves into our jobs—then the Invasion. Seeing the females on Earth for the first time? It was like walking into a fever dream. The sights, the scents, the sounds. But we were in a war and there was no time for pleasure. Not until the treaty was signed and things changed.”
“And even then, we’re Custo. Our mission is protection—not relationships,” Dimka adds quietly. “I was okay with this when I signed on. After my time in the pits—the abuse I saw there—the last thing I wanted was any kind of physical relationship. The women here held little appeal, but…”
“But what?” Alex asks.
“But Mercy Ladd is different.”
“How?”
“Like we said before, the way she smells,” I say. “It’s a heightened scent—pheromones.”
“You can actually smell those?” Alex asks, eyes wide.
“You can’t?”
He shakes his head. “No. I mean, I guess human men have more of a, uh, for lack of better term, ‘stirring,’ you know…” his eyes dart to his pelvis, “down there. Our hearts race. We sweat a little.”
“And not all women do that to you?”
“A lot of women kick it off but the whole thing? The desire to be around that same person over and over again? The interest in getting to know her beyond naked? That’s one in a million.”
“Is Mercy your one in a million?” I ask Alex. I’ve noticed the symptoms when I’ve come by the dormitory on the nights he’s working and Mercy is there.
His eyes hold mine. “She may be, but I don’t want this to be something that comes between us. That’s not why I came here.”
Dimka and I exchange a look. “It doesn’t have to be. That’s another difference on Athion. Due to our circumstances, we’re not raised to believe only one man belongs to one woman. Sharing is very common.”
“Isn’t this a little presumptive?” Alex asks. “Determining that we’re willing to share a woman that hasn’t decided if she wants us? A woman, by the way, who will be leaving the facility soon and may be out of our reach anyway?”
Dimka’s jaw tightens and releases before he asks, �
�Do you plan on letting her walk away without giving her the option?”
Alex sighs. “I don’t know. It’s not how things are done on Earth. I’m not judging. It’s just…different. It’s not why I came here. My job is to protect women like Mercy, not fuck them.”
“This isn’t about fucking, Alex,” I say, in a low, controlled tone, “it’s about cherishing them. Nurturing them. Loving them. It’s our obligation as males to seek a mate if one presents herself. Whether she knows it nor not, Mercy Ladd has presented herself to us. All of us. And Laird knows I will not let her slip from my fingers.”
Dimka leans back in his seat. “All this is well and good, but what about Damon? Do you think he’ll want a say in this?”
Damon is our fourth—out on deep undercover assignment. We started the unit together, bonded together. It does feel odd to make such a major decision without him. “We’ll take that as it comes.”
“Who knows if he’ll even come back alive,” Alex says.
“Watch it,” I say. I don’t like to test fate. “He’s responded to all communication and well-checks, but it’s impossible to know what he’ll want when he comes back. I’m not willing to let Mercy go because of Damon. I think he’d agree if he were in the same situation.”
Both Alex and Dimka nod in response to that. I reach for the bottle and fill each of our cups. Silently we drink, thinking over what’s been revealed. A bond has been formed, if we want it or not. Now we have to determine if Mercy feels the same.
12
Mercy
I’m sipping a cup of tea at my work station when Dr. Kane walks in.
“Good morning, Mercy,” he says approaching the table. I find myself unnerved when he’s so close—his eyes are such a startling blue. There are times I feel like he can see right through me—and there are times when I think I want him to.
“Good morning, Dr. Kane.”
“I asked the secretary to schedule a full day of OB patients for us. There are six at the facility now. I thought we could have a day completely designated for them.”
