by Roxie Ray
“She wanted you, cousin.” Kloran laid a hand on Haelian’s shoulder. It was not like Haelian to lash out like this, I knew. Of all of the warriors aboard the Avant Lupinia, he was generally the calmest. But where Lady Idria was concerned…I could understand that she had a way of getting on his nerves. “We do not wish to kowtow to her desires any more than you to. But, if Savii could be returned to Earth…”
Kloran gave me a hopeful glance. I loathed to do it, but I had to shoot that idea down before it caught.
“Savii is…strong, yes. And I believe she would be willing to return to Earth if we offered it to her.” I bowed my head, knowing that what I was about to say was not something that Kloran wanted to hear. “But she has been through greater trauma than any of the other humans we have rescued. She is doing her best to repress it, but for as long as she continues to ignore what she has experienced, I fear not even a memory wipe will be able to take care of it for good. These things have ways of coming back to victims. I believe we all still remember Barthan.”
Kloran and Haelian both lowered their eyes at the mention of Barthan’s name. He had been our first commander when we had only just graduated from the fighting pits. In a moment of great sacrifice on our first raid, he had sacrificed himself in battle, giving himself up to the Rutharians so that his troops could get away safely.
They had tortured him. They tortured everyone they captured, but being a commander, Barthan had been treated worse than most. In the end, he had managed to fight his way to freedom once more—taking a large number of Rutharians along with him, we could proudly say—but when he returned to us, he was no longer a man we could even recognize. Head Healer Adskow had wiped Barthan’s memory in an attempt to help him heal from the trauma…
But it had not been enough. The last time any of us had seen our commander, Barthan had been manning a shuttle away from Lunaria with its communications system disabled. Shortly after, he had crashed it into one of Lunaria’s moons, killing himself in the process.
“A memory wipe is out of the question, then,” Kloran said, grim. “For now, we will have to weigh other options.”
“Tell us honestly, Coplan.” Haelian’s eyes were a listless gray. “Do you believe that Savii’s mind can be healed at all?”
This time, at least, I could give them some good news. For them, at least—and probably for Savii too. I knew that returning Savii to Earth was the right thing. I knew I could remain professional around her as I helped her heal. But her strength had touched something in me, something that made it difficult to admit that I thought we would soon be able to return her to where she belonged.
She was strong, my little human patient. I respected that about her, and it made me enjoy her company all the more. That strength would serve her well, when she learned how to use it.
“She could not have endured all the Rutharians put her through without great inner strength,” I told them. “Right now, it is likely working against her. She is stubborn.”
“Have we met a human female who has not been?” Kloran asked rhetorically. In a more pleasant atmosphere, it would have been a good joke. His wife, Haelian’s—even Nion’s. Together, they were the most stubborn creatures any of us had encountered in all the galaxies. Savii did not strike me as much different. In that regard, at least.
“But she is also very concerned about her sister, Generals,” I continued. “If a deal could be brokered with Lady Idria—she could provide information on Atlanta’s whereabouts, with the assurance that when Savii and Atlanta are reunited, they will be able to help each other heal in preparation for a return to Earth. I think, with that in mind, Savii would be receptive to taking the necessary steps to confront all that she has endured and work through it.”
“It sounds…plausible,” Haelian said slowly. “Lady Idria is bitter and spiteful, but she is not beyond reasoning with. At least, I hope she is not.”
“What it sounds like is a lot of work for you, Coplan,” Kloran countered. “Are you sure you are up for the task?”
“I am.” I could say that with certainty. Despite a rocky beginning…I could not deny that I was already fond of Savii. Her beauty may have distracted any other healer, but for me, it was her resilience I admired. Not many could have gotten through what she had. Certainly not in one piece, at any rate.
She had been beaten, but she was not broken. She would be able to heal, and I would do everything in my power to ensure it.
“Good,” Kloran said with a nod. “Then you had best make good on it. For all our sakes.”
“Savii’s included,” Haelian added.
Kloran and Haelian both rose, and I stood to salute them in parting. The road that Savii and I had ahead of us was a long, arduous one, but we would walk it together.
At least, we would for as long as she would let me.
But as I left, Kloran’s voice rang out behind me once more—this time, in warning.
“And Coplan,” he called after me. “Don’t fall in love with this one, if you can help it.”
The gentle laughter that followed left me glowering all the way back to the medical bay.
Kloran may not have been able to help himself from falling in love with the first human we had come across, and Haelian had claimed a bride of his own in much the same way…
But I was a professional, and Savii was my patient.
Even if I had wanted it, a romance between us was not possible. It went against everything I stood for as a healer.
I would heal Savii, then I would ensure that she could return home safely. No falling in love involved.
At least, in that regard, Kloran could rest assured.
5
Savannah
If I’d been on Earth with this much time off, I would have spent all of it watching the old movies that I loved, the ones from the times before separation where men and women tap danced in the rain together to big band music and the worst thing that ever happened was a tornado that whisked the protagonist away to a magical land. I would have read books by the dozens—books with heroines in beautiful dresses swooning in the arms of handsome, shirtless men. I would have taken long baths, done face masks with Atlanta, listened to music and danced with no one filming, the way we did when we were kids.
In my little private room in the hospital wing, though, there was nothing to do but take care of myself and waste time. I had food, water, a blistering hot shower and a soft, comfy bed to sleep in, which was more than I’d been given in a long while. That should have made me happy, but it didn’t.
Taking care of myself wasn’t really any fun anymore. Maybe, after everything I’d been through with the Rutharians, I just didn’t think I was worth being taken care of at all. Or maybe, it was the mirror over the sink. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in it, I couldn’t bear to look for very long.
I was bone thin with hollow eyes ringed with dark circles. I could have hung a coat hanger from my collarbones, and my shoulders looked impossibly broad compared to my neck. I’d always been slight. The mandates the sectors had placed on my diet guaranteed that. But this…it was a whole new level of skinny. I didn’t just look thin anymore. I looked ill. My reflection didn’t look anything like me anymore at all.
To avoid it, I just stayed in bed. Even moving around my room left me exhausted, which I guessed was a good thing because it left me tired enough to sleep. But there wasn’t even pleasure in that anymore.
In all my dreams, I was chained and helpless, back in that little cell all over again.
When Coplan finally returned, I nearly cried with relief. If there was one thing worse than boredom, it was loneliness—and save for my brief conversation with Leonix, Coplan was the only other person to talk to here on the ship.
“Good evening, Savii.” His hand moved to the panel he used to turn on the lights, hesitated, then lowered again. Good. He remembered I wasn’t big on light right now. “How are you feeling?”
I opened my mouth…and blanked.
How did
I even answer that? I’d had some food, some sleep and some time to think…but how was I actually feeling after all of it?
“Complicated.” I shifted myself up into a sitting position and pulled my blanket up around me. “Pretty complicated.”
“Mm.” Coplan nodded as he moved about the room, straightening my towel and returning the few plates of food I’d eaten into the food articulator. “Well then. We should start with the basics. How are your ribs?”
I touched them gingerly beneath my blanket, only wincing slightly this time. “Bruised and still pretty sore, but…okay, I guess.”
“Have you been sleeping?”
“More than I’ve liked.”
“And you’ve been eating.” Coplan fed the final plate into the food articulator. “Healthy foods, I hope?”
“I ate some weird green vegetable type things and a really gross, bitter fruit, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Gilly-fruit.” Coplan chuckled. “That is a good sign, I think. It is a beloved staple of the Lunarian diet, but in humans it is not so palatable. Unless…”
Coplan’s voice trailed off strangely. In the boredom I’d been facing, that made me way too curious.
“Unless what?”
“Unless you are pregnant,” Coplan said with a small shrug. “It is something that I have been avoiding bringing up, but…I suppose it was unavoidable eventually.”
“Yeah. We don’t have to worry about that, at least.” I shrugged the blanket down to reveal the place where my arm showed beneath the sleeve of my hospital gown. Over the tiny lump beneath my skin where my birth control implant was located, I gave a couple of pats. “I have a thing in my arm here. It releases, um, hormones, or something. The sectors insisted on it when I became an influencer for them.”
“An…influencer?” Coplan arched an eyebrow. “You acted as, what? A specter for your High Council, manipulating events? That seems…unlike you.”
“A specter? Like a ghost?” I felt bad answering a question with another question, though. Obviously, some things were being lost in translation here. “I only meant…an influencer is like a media personality. Someone who posts videos and pictures online, makes appearances, stuff like that. You’re not totally wrong, though…it was kind of manipulative. If the sectors decide that they like you and they think you could help improve how your followers feel about them, they pay you to work for them. My sister and I had five million of them when we were abducted so—”
“Five million followers?” Coplan sounded shocked. “There are not even one million Lunarians in all the galaxies anymore. You were…some sort of prophet, then? A queen?”
“Not quite,” I said with a small laugh. It was cute, how surprised he got when I said something which he misinterpreted like that. “More like…a celebrity, kind of. We did dances, a lot of them to patriotic music, and people would watch us.”
“Much like a prophet, then,” Coplan nodded. “When Lunarians lived in greater numbers, we had high priestesses who did the same. But, five million…”
“It wasn’t great, honestly.” I could never have admitted that on Earth. I’d been a little worried to say it to Atlanta when we had our phones in the room, even when she was more than happy to say the same thing. Back on Earth, there’d always been the sense that the sectors were spying, always listening…and they weren’t the only ones. “Our parents pushed us into it. It gave them more clout with the government, and between our mom and dad and the sectors themselves…we were pretty heavily controlled. Every aspect of our lives, really.”
“I understand that,” Coplan said with a small nod. “I am bound by duty to my parents, my people and the High Council too. Even here on the ship, I must follow orders from the generals.”
“It sucks, huh?”
“Luckily, I am not required to suck anything, no. Did you—did they force you?”
Coplan was looking a little green, so I held up a hand and laughed.
“You need to stop jumping to the worst possible conclusion, Coplan.”
“Ah. A bad habit of mine. You merely meant it was…not ideal.”
“Yeah. But at least while everyone was busy controlling my life, they made sure I wasn’t going to get pregnant in the meantime.” I patted my arm, just over the implant. “I’ve had a lot of things to worry about since I was taken, but pregnancy hasn’t been one of them, at least.”
“Ah.” Coplan looked like he was trying really hard not to react to anything I said, but even so, he seemed relieved at that. “That is…uncustomary on my planet.”
“Because of the population crisis?” I guessed.
Coplan nodded. “Pregnancies on Lunaria are greeted with great joy. It would be unthinkable for Lunarian women to wish to prevent such a gift…” Coplan bowed his head. “But in your case, I am glad, Savii, that you have been relieved of such worries. How are your legs feeling?”
I wiggled my toes where they poked out from the blanket. I didn’t want to admit it, but…
“Sore.” Once upon a time, I’d been able to dance all night on my legs, but now they ached from just moving around the room. “I think I’ve lost more muscle and flexibility in them than I used to have. On Earth, my sister and I were dancers, so…”
“It would be like if I lost my hands.” Coplan held his palms up to me. They were huge, a little callused, but strong-looking with long, elegant fingers. A surgeon’s hands. “I am sorry, Savii. Perhaps, if you would allow me…”
“Do you have more alien healing tricks up your sleeves?” I wasn’t exactly against the idea. Being able to walk around again with ease would have been a nice change.
“I am not concealing anything, no. No tricks.” Coplan furrowed his brow, then shook the sleeves of his lap coat out and rolled them up like he was showing me he had nothing to hide. “But I could…massage you. If you would permit it. Your muscles are likely tense from rebuilding themselves. A massage could help.”
I swallowed hard. That was…a little more intimate than I’d been expecting. The last time I’d gotten a massage had been at a spa getaway with Atlanta. I’d always been a little uncomfortable about being touched by a stranger like that, even when I was paying money for it.
But here on the ship, Coplan wasn’t exactly a stranger. If anything, he was the closest thing I’d had to a friend in a while.
“Okay. Yeah, go ahead.” When Coplan kneeled on the floor next to my bed and reached for me, it was hard not to flinch. But his touch was warm as ever, and he moved slowly enough, with a few deep breaths I was able to stop myself from panicking too much.
The massage hurt a little. I guessed that was to be expected. My whole body hurt. I didn’t see any reason why having the kinks rubbed out of my muscles would be painless by comparison. It wasn’t a bad ache, though. Coplan rubbed my muscles along their natural lines, increasing the pressure beneath his thumbs and moving in little circles whenever he found a knot.
“How is that?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s…bearable.” I swallowed again, then nodded. “I think it’s helping, though. Or at least, it doesn’t feel like it’s hurting.”
“When I first made my intentions clear to my family that I would become a healer, they disapproved of this.” He removed his hands from me for a moment to pull his shirt apart, revealing a blue pendant with a sword etched into it hanging from his neck. “House Majari is made up of warriors. I was never meant to choose a life for myself that was so…soft.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly. I almost reached out to touch it, but then thought better of the idea.
“Would you like it?” Coplan asked.
“You mean…to have?”
“Of course.” Coplan took the pendant from his neck and draped it around mine without another word. “There. It suits you—and I certainly have no use for it. I am a warrior no longer. Not like you, Savii.”
“I’m no warrior.” Still, as I lifted the pendant up off my chest and Coplan returned his hands to my legs, I couldn’t h
elp but admire it. It was lovely and, truth be told, I wasn’t used to going without jewelry for so long. “But…thank you, Coplan. I’ll…I’ll cherish it.”
“Do with it what you like,” he said with a small chuckle. “My family would likely rather that someone with your fighting spirit wears it instead. The laying of hands on the wounded, some of whom would be of a lesser station than myself…they were not pleased at the idea.”
“There are some people who feel the same way about things on Earth. You must be pretty high up on the social ladder back on your planet.”
“No ladders, no. But I am from a High House on Lunaria, if that is what you are suggesting. My father is a High Lord. Someday, when he passes, I will be expected to take his place on the High Council. It was their fear that if I became too ingratiated with the more common warriors, I would not be as fair of a leader when I returned home.”
“My family felt the same way.” I could still remember the talking-to that our mother gave Atlanta and I about getting too familiar with our bodyguards, chefs and maids. “Although, I guess I was never expected to lead anyone in anything more important than a conga line.”
“This conga line—it is your lineage?” Coplan asked, looking confused once again. “They wished you to be a good leader for your daughters and sons?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s, um…Oh, it’s not important.”
“As you say.” Coplan hesitated at my knee, then folded the blanket up over my lap so he could massage my thigh as well. Pangs of something between pleasure and pain shot up the length of my muscle as he worked it over beneath his fingers. “On Lunaria, I am of equal social standing with Kloran and Haelian, the generals of this ship. Their paths are more…traditional. It is seen as a formative matter, guiding warriors into battle and ordering troops as they do. But there are many such men of the High Houses who wish to lead. Far fewer are willing to pick up the pieces when the battle is done. I felt it was my duty to see firsthand the effects of war and do my best to rectify them.”
