by Alexa Black
Kara sighed. “This place. I know it’s not your home.”
“My home is pretty awful. Riots, rickety buses that barely fly. Potholes if you aren’t flying.”
She let out a little laugh, harsher than she’d meant for it to be. This place, these Rings, were so pristine, floating above their little hellstorm. Even here in Kara’s apartment, everything looked too clean. Too perfect. Sue found herself wanting some cracked concrete, rusted metal, walls thick with graffiti proclaiming Bob was here or I’d rather be on Cyprus IV or Fuck the government or Don’t worry! They’re always watching you.
Life in the colonies was frightening. Unstable. Uneasy. You had to take care of yourself. Immortal warriors didn’t just descend from the sky to make sure you would be okay. But the life you lived there was yours, and no one else’s.
And then there were the people. Everyone here was an Outcast. Everyone here had horns and stony skin, and blazing scars that testified to the wings they’d once flown on. No one looked like Sue or sounded like her.
She hadn’t bothered to miss the other colonists. She hadn’t had time to think of them. She’d done so much. Flown through the wormhole. Made it here. Met beings she’d thought were aliens. Explored their world.
Then she’d discovered what the Outcasts really were. And then she’d journeyed to the surface, seen the dead ones, gone into the temple and submitted to the whip.
So little time in any of that to just miss people. She found herself thinking of that old boyfriend, the one with such a gentle touch. She hadn’t seen him in years. What was he doing now? Where was he? The same colony they’d both lived in back then? Or had he run off, looking for a better place?
Had he found one?
And what about her other friends? Or even the people who rode her spacebus every morning and every night? Had they noticed she was gone? Did they miss her?
“You’re quiet for someone who doesn’t miss your home,” Kara said. She turned away and looked out the window.
Sue slid up on one elbow and watched Kara stare out at the storm. “It was a pretty bad place. You Outcasts have a nice place here, all things considered. The Rings are clean. The ships aren’t always breaking down.” She grinned. “The food’s good.” Even if I am beginning to really miss solid food.
“But it is not our home,” Kara said.
Oh. Right. That.
“I’m sorry,” Sue began. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Kara turned to face her and shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. We have not seen our true home in eons. The young ones like your friend Dehek were born here. The Rings are the only place many of us know.”
“Then why did you ask about me?”
“Because you still have a home, Sue. It may be far away, there may be a wormhole between you and it, but…” Kara looked out toward the window again. “It’s still your home. If you found your way back, the people there would welcome you.”
Sue shook her head, chuckling. “Some of them might. But I told you about the riots. That thing with the boy isn’t the only violence I’ve seen. It’s just the only time I thought I might have been able to do something about it. And I couldn’t.”
“And this place?”
“This place is peaceful. Yeah, sure, Dehek hates me. And if he has his way other Outcasts probably will too. But the older ones know you and respect you. And because of that they respect me.”
“It’s not just because of that.”
“Are you saying they like me? ‘Hey, everyone, look at Kara’s human pet’?”
Kara chuckled. “For some of them, perhaps. But that isn’t what I meant. Our war happened an age ago, and our memories are long. We’ve lived here a long time. And as you said, we started out doing what we thought the Enemy wanted of us. Living on the surface, tormenting the human dead as our own exile tormented us. But then, over the many millennia, we changed.”
“You built the Rings.”
“We built the Rings. We made homes for ourselves. We found food that we enjoyed and we cultivated it. When we moved to the Rings, it didn’t end our suffering. But we began to believe that our suffering, perhaps, was no longer required.”
Sue smiled. “Good. But what’s that got to do with humans? With me?”
“We were brought here to suffer. To make the unforgiven humans suffer, as we did. If our suffering was no longer required, why should we require yours?”
“So things are better here. You’ve grown.”
“We have. But this place is still not our home, and we still know it.” Kara reached out a hand toward the window, her claws grasping at something long gone. “There were meadows, and oceans, and valleys. And boundless skies, where we flew. The winds made music, and our voices echoed it.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be here after being…” She trailed off. In heaven, if you believed what the old religion said. But if hell was a planet, did that mean heaven was small, too?
She couldn’t say so. Not to Kara. Not right now.
Kara shook her head. “I was supposed to guide them. To lead them in war, yes, but also—”
“To protect them,” Sue finished for her.
Kara didn’t look back at her. But the shadows around her floated and settled, soft as a sigh. “You’re an exile too. Like us.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Sue tried. But it was. Of course it was.
“You were looking for your own ship before Dehek distracted you.”
“I was, in the beginning. Yeah.”
“You miss your home as well.”
Sue thought of the old boyfriend, his careful fingers. She thought of the first woman she’d kissed, a girl with pale skin and blue eyes that wrinkled up when she smiled and dirty blond hair that always hung down in her face. Sue hadn’t loved her, but she’d liked her, liked what they’d done, liked what she’d found out about herself and how it made her feel.
And it made her think of other things, little things. The scuffed toes of her old girlfriend’s boots. Here, wearing clothes was a weird thing. A thing Sue did, and no one else. No one except the dead.
And here there were no other humans. Except the dead.
“I hadn’t thought about it. But yeah, I guess I do.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Sue grabbed at Kara’s hand. She reached up to her own face, making Kara cup her fingers around Sue’s chin. “What is this really about?”
“This place is not your home,” Kara said again. She ran a claw over Sue’s lips. “It can never offer you what your home offers.”
Sue wrapped her other hand around Kara’s head. She slid her hand over one of Kara’s horns. Its surface, grooved and then pointed, felt strange, alien, unlike anything else she’d touched before. She’d seen pictures and holograms of animals with horns, but out in the colonies, you’d never get to touch anything like that.
Which was exactly why she touched Kara’s horn now. Kara’s eyes flickered, and her mouth opened, exposing a little hint of gold.
That must mean you like it.
Yes. Yes. This. Show yourself to me.
“Is that what you’re scared of?” Sue whispered.
Kara’s eyes locked on Sue’s, a blaze of gold. But then she looked down. “It’s not about wanting, Sue. Home always finds you in the end. Even when you’re sure you’ve let it go, it stays with you.” She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to Sue’s. Sue slid her hand from Kara’s horn and wrapped it around the back of Kara’s head. She opened her mouth wide and let Kara swallow her moan.
Kara’s hands wrapped around her back. Little bursts of sensation flared through the welts where Kara touched them.
Sue slid her own hands over Kara’s back and shoulders. But she knew what she was really looking for. She traced the edges of the scars.
Kara hissed, and when Sue finally broke the kiss, she showed her fangs. But she wasn’t resisting, not this time. Sue made soft, encouraging sounds and trace
d the scars with her fingers, over and over.
This is what you endured and what you lost. And I want all of it, Kara of the Outcasts.
Sue curled her fingers inward. It wouldn’t sting, not like the whip had. But it might burn, just a little, and that might make Kara remember, just like the whip had made Sue.
Kara sucked in another breath and hissed again. Sue watched her carefully. But she tilted her head and opened her mouth and let out a shaky breath that sounded a little like a moan, so Sue curled her fingers tighter.
She moved down to kiss Kara’s neck, to press her head into her shoulder and nuzzle and lick. Kara hummed, a steady note almost like her song. There wasn’t quite a vision in it, not without harmony and words, but Sue could see something anyway: light in darkness, swirling like a distant galaxy.
She kissed her way down to Kara’s breasts, her lips feeling the warrior firmness of Kara’s body. Her lips curled around the hard bud of Kara’s nipple and sucked. Her hips rocked in sympathy and a little scintilla of pleasure made her sex spasm along with it.
Kara’s hands tightened around her head, and her claws twined in Sue’s hair. Hair that Kara had not just cut, but had trimmed with those very claws. Had made hers, the jagged lines of the warrior, an echo of her scars.
Yes. Yes.
“Lie down,” she said to Kara.
Kara purred and followed Sue’s hands, settling down on the bed.
Sue leaned down to kiss her way down Kara’s chest, pausing at one of the cracks. She kissed it, feeling the warmth against her lips, and then licked along its edge. Kara purred and pressed Sue’s head down, closer. Sue smiled against Kara’s skin.
She traced her way down to Kara’s stomach, still kissing and licking, and ran her hands over Kara’s sides. She splayed out her fingers, wanting to create as much sensation as she could. Kara made another contented sound and canted her hips.
Yes. Yes. Sue’s mouth watered. She remembered the thick ambrosia of Kara’s wetness staining her fingers and ached to taste it. She moved faster, sliding her head down toward Kara’s hips, finding another scar and tracing her tongue along its edges.
Kara parted her legs, and Sue traced her way over the hairless mound, smooth as a sculpture. But Kara was warm under her lips and tongue, and shifted under her to admit her better.
Sue opened her mouth to taste Kara’s wetness. It was thick, like honey, and it tasted crisp. Like clear water Sue had drank once, bottled on some faraway and unpolluted planet. And under it all, a faint hint of other tastes. A whiff of spice and sharpness.
She couldn’t place them all. I’m just a mere mortal, after all. But Kara’s hand wrapped around her head and pressed her closer, and she lost herself in it.
She lapped at Kara’s clit. Kara pushed back against her, grinding against her lips and tongue with possessive abandon. She gasped, took a deep breath, and moved faster, Kara’s clit a hard pebble against her tongue.
She gripped at Kara’s hips, pulling her closer. Kara’s hand tightened in her hair, the tips of her claws a prick against Sue’s scalp. Then Kara roared out a cry of pleasure, her clit pressed to Sue’s lips and tongue as her body shuddered.
Sue clutched Kara’s hips. Yes. Yes. Show me. Show me all of yourself. Show me everything.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“There is someone I want you to meet,” Kara said.
Sue stretched. She would have reached for her clothes, given that Kara was talking about going out. But being naked now, with Kara, in a place where clothes didn’t really matter, felt surprisingly good. “Someone?”
“I don’t know if you mean to stay or leave. But if you do mean to stay, if you want to know us, you need to see us for who we really are.”
“You want me to meet more of you?”
“I want you to meet one. I want you to meet the one who led our rebellion, and who rules our world.”
Sue froze. “The Enemy,” she choked out.
Kara’s eyes widened and brightened. “Our leader, yes.”
Sue bit her lip. Why had she called him that? The Outcasts used that name for Sue’s forgotten god, not for their leader. And whatever she should call him, Kara had followed him. Into a war that had cost her everything. Her wings. Her beauty. Her rank. Her home.
“I’m sorry,” Sue said. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“Because you’ve been taught all your life to fear him. To fear us.”
Sue looked down. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
“That’s why I want to bring you to him. Because if you stay, you need to know what we believe. What we stand for and who we choose to serve.”
“You still serve him?”
Kara nodded. “He has ruled us from the beginning. We are not what we once were. We were soldiers. Rebels. Fighters who needed a commander. Now we’re—”
“People,” Sue finished for her.
Kara tilted her head. “People?”
Sue waved vaguely. “This place. It isn’t for soldiers. I mean, you were a soldier. A warrior. But people like Dehek weren’t even born when the revolution happened. The Rings are a city. A whole bunch of cities connected to each other. Not a barracks or a citadel.”
Kara nodded. “That is so.”
“And your leader? Your lord? Whatever I’m supposed to call him?”
“We called him the Bringer of Light.”
Sue chuckled at that. “And did he?”
Kara bristled. “Are you looking for me to defy him?”
“No! I just mean that your rebellion failed. You’re not soldiers any more. Why would you want me to see him?”
“Because you aren’t one of us.”
Anger flared through Sue. “You’re not starting this again. Not after all we’ve been through. Not after how far we’ve come together.”
“I am not starting anything, you damn fool human. I am only saying this: You are torn between what you have found here and your memories of your home. Is that not true?”
“Kara, I already told you. I don’t even know if there’s a way for me to go home any more. I was just running away. I want you. I want this. You don’t need to worry about something that can’t happen.”
“That can’t happen or that won’t? You are an exile, at least for the moment. Just like me. This place is not your home, and you know it. You’ve found comfort here, found hope here…but this is not your home.”
“So?”
“So choosing to stay is about more than simply settling down.”
“Not if there’s no chance of going home anyway!”
Kara growled. Her claws curled, slashing at the air in front of Sue. Sue froze. I know Kara. Kara cares for me. I’m safe with Kara.
“Don’t speak to me of having no chances, human,” Kara said, her voice cold. “I have no chance. The Outcasts have no chance. We were banished. You were not.”
Damn it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“All it takes for you to find your way back is to find someone who knows enough about wormholes to help you do it.”
“Kara, I already told you, I’ve got no plans to do it.”
“Not now. But if you mean to stay here, you need to choose this place as your home.” The shadows around Kara fluttered. “And to do that, you need to know this place. And the people who made it what it is. Including the one who led our rebellion and who leads us now.”
“And you want what? For me to swear allegiance to him? To a guy my people’s religion tells me is the ultimate evil?”
Kara shook her head. “I don’t want you to swear allegiance to anything, Sue. Not to him. Not even to me.”
“I thought I was your pet.”
“That’s different.”
“Good. I’m glad it is. But what are you looking for? What is it you really want from me?”
Kara sighed. “You could belong here if you wanted to. You could be mine, mine for real.” She chuckled, grasping at air with her clawed hands. “I would like that.”
I’
m sure you would. I might, too.
Or is that the problem? That I might?
“Or you could…stay,” Kara went on. “Remain, but be a stranger. Sometimes that is all someone can do. But whether you decide that you belong, or that you don’t but you choose to stay anyway, you must know what you are doing. Who the people are that you claim, whether you call them kin or comrades.”
Sue took a deep breath. “And you think to really do that I need to meet the one I still keep calling the Enemy.”
“You need to know us. You need to see us for all that we are. You’ve seen our Rings. You’ve heard our songs. You’ve seen our bodies and our scars. But you need to know how we got those scars, and why we take pride in them, even though they’re supposed to be a marker of our shame. And to know that, you need to know what we were fighting for. And who we were fighting for.”
Sue sighed. “All right. I’ll do it.” But you’re wrong. All I need to know is you.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Sue wrapped herself up in her clothes. Wearing them had become almost silly now, but she liked the thought of having something between herself and the Lord of the Outcasts. Protector, Kara might be, but could she protect Sue from her own leader? Sue clutched the jacket around her chest, even though the hallway was warm.
The Rings grew bigger as they moved through them, the lights brighter. They blared from the ceiling and the walls, shining against Kara’s gray skin.
Sue walked behind her, like she’d done before. Outcasts whispered as she passed, and she lowered her head, trying to look the part of Kara’s pet. But she’d learned enough of the Outcasts’ language to catch words in their whispers.
Most seemed to find it funny. Some odd quirk of Kara’s, like Sue had said a while ago. Collecting strays. She could hear it in their voices, calling her a possession. Calling Kara a collector. Some said it with amusement, others with derision. But so far, no one did more than stare.
In fact, the people here seemed too poised to do more. They walked with careful, prideful posture, their backs straight, their horns arching toward the skies.
