by Enid Titan
“That one!” She coos, “You should get that one.”
“I think Tucker will kick my ass if I get a pendant that’s… 80,000 credits.”
She shrugs.
“So what? He makes around one million credits a month. I don’t think he’ll miss it.”
Tucker hates his mother, which makes me want to befriend her. I smile and agree. The shop attendant presses my fingerprint to the payment pad and Tucker is short 80,000 credits, and I have a new necklace which Ingrid cinches around my neck.
“When you’re married to a powerful man,” she says, “You have to look and act the part.”
She smells like oatmeal cookies and rose oil. I nod and thank her for helping me. Ingrid smiles at me and her cheeks turn apple red.
“I look forward to when you and Tucker give me grandchildren.”
She notices my face fall which frustrates me because I’m doing my best to hide my feelings when it comes to her son.
“What’s wrong dear? Are you afflicted by infertility?”
After the first climate crisis, infertility was relatively common on Earth. Around 1 in 5 women can't have kids anymore. So it wouldn't have been strange for me to say yes.
It would be an awkward conversation to have with my mother-in-law if I were having sex with her son, which I am not.
“No,” I say calmly, “I’m not. I don’t think Tucker has any interest in kids.”
She doesn’t need to know that I’m only here because Tucker was my way of finding a loophole in Corporation by-laws.
“Men say that at first, but they change their mind,” Ingrid reassures me.
I shudder. I’m not sure that I want Tucker to change his mind. Now that I know how he really thinks and feels about me, his desire for me could be worse than his utter disinterest.
“I’m not sure. You know how Tucker can get,” I offer.
I don’t mean anything in particular, because Tucker can “get” any number of ways about any number of things. He’s mercurial.
“Yes, he’s a difficult man,” Ingrid agrees, “He wasn’t raised with me you know. But I love him. I’ve always loved my son, even now. I know he’s a monster, but if he can get a girl like you to fall in love with him, perhaps there’s hope.”
I grimace. She thinks I love Tucker. There isn’t a lovable bone left in that man’s body, assuming there was one in the first place. He’s exactly as cold and cruel as she thinks, without the redeeming qualities she imagines.
The ground rumbles as we leave the shop. Our guards are unperturbed.
“Was that an earthquake?” I ask the half-alien one.
He nods and I notice his eyes are yellow, and his pupils a long slit running vertically across his irises. Spooky.
“Are there usually earthquakes here?”
“We defend the planet from disasters of all kinds. The Corporation takes the safety of its citizens and workers seriously.”
He speaks like he’s reading from a script. Ingrid’s brow knits with worry. I share her discomfort with the soldier’s response, but I thank him anyway and we continue along the High Street. She links her arm with mine and leans over to whisper, “I don’t like the way he answered you.”
“I know. Do you think there’s something Tucker isn’t telling us?”
She chuckles.
“There are many things Tucker isn’t telling us.”
I make a note to ask him in the evening. We visit three more shops and Ingrid encourages me to buy a new jumpsuit, a black one with metallic detailing and then a pair of knee-high black combat boots. She takes me to get my unruly curls pinned up.
“If you weren’t so brown, I’d suggest a tan!” She says while admiring her handiwork. I note sadly that she dotes on me more than my own mother.
Marrying Tucker might be horrible, but if I show him that I’ll take care of his mother and keep her out of his hair, maybe he won’t drag me back to Earth the second I piss him off. Maybe sex was the wrong way to go about this. He obviously cares for the woman, in his weird fucked-up way. I decide to spoil Ingrid so she reports good things back to him and we start towards a frozen yogurt shop.
The ground beneath us rumbles again. I hear three distinct explosions, like the sound of a motorcycle backfiring a couple of miles off, coming from the sky. Ingrid points up and in the direction of this planet’s small sun, there were three pinpoints of light in the distance that flash and disappear.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” The half-alien soldier responds.
I can tell he’s lying to us and he doesn’t want us to worry. He saw what we saw, but he doesn’t want to tell us what exactly the lights are.
Chapter 6
I Might Be In Serious Danger
We arrive home and Tucker doesn’t show up for hours. He has a chef, which neither of us knows about until we see her standing in the kitchen, preparing a curry for us to eat for dinner. She’s pretty, with long black hair like mine, except straight and silky instead of wild, long and curly. She has large brown eyes and deep smile lines where her round cheeks force wrinkles into her face.
Ingrid is tired, so she returns to her bedroom and leaves me to chat with the chef, Chandi Noel. She tells me about her life back on Earth and how grateful she is to the Corporation for allowing her to come to the colony. I steer the conversation in a direction that isn’t pure Corporation-worship.
“Have you noticed anything weird since you’ve been here?”
“You mean the earthquakes?”
“Sure.”
“They get stronger sometimes. I hear it’s because the Corporation is drilling for geothermal energy, but that’s not what my husband thinks.”
I am awash with relief when I learn Chandi has a husband. I wouldn’t be jealous if Tucker wants to sleep with her, but I would feel cheated. If he gets to sleep around, then so should I. If I obey his stupid contract, I’m going to spend the rest of my life without sex. Tucker will cave first, I tell myself. If I sleep with Tucker, I’m going to have to kill him so I don’t end up having to live with the fact that I’ve slept with him. Maybe our vow of chastity is for the best.
Chandi explains her husband’s theory.
“There’s a kill switch for the planet they’re installing past the forest, in case of an alien invasion. The corporation wants to protect its assets.”
“What do you mean a kill switch?”
I love conspiracy theories, especially ridiculous ones like this one which is not based on anything remotely real. Chandi shrugs.
“My husband doesn’t know, but he thinks it will flood the atmosphere with Hydrogen gas and then poof.”
She snaps her finger, an odd mixture of terror and glee crossing her face.
“We’ll all die in an instant.”
“How would that protect their assets?”
Conspiracy theories never make any sense.
“They’re going to open up other colonies on other planets and expand. A spot on a colony like this could sell for twenty to fifty million credits.”
Most people on Earth will never earn one million credits in their lifetime. I clutch the necklace I just bought and feel guilty about the indulgence, even if I did it to please Ingrid. I am too quick to forget that other people on Earth are suffering.
“Interesting,” I say to Chandi, “You don’t think it's possible the Corporation would harm people to protect their assets?”
“Let’s hope we never find out. The planet is 100% secure from alien life. I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Try a samosa?”
I can’t turn down samosas, so I accept her offer and try not to think about my disbelief in the planet’s genuine safety. I wish I could be like the other citizens of my planet and learn not to question the Corporation. Instead, I’m plagued with worry.
Tucker comes home in time for dinner. I’m already full of samosas by the time he comes back, but he insists we eat together. He has his mother take her dinner alone in her room. He sits
across from me and doesn’t acknowledge me for a few minutes.
“You spent money today?”
“Yup.”
“Good. I like the idea of you cleaning up a bit. It makes our whole marriage more believable.”
“Tucker, can we at least be friends? I don’t want to hate you.”
I’m lying, but he doesn’t need to know that. He smiles.
“You won’t ever stop hating me, I know that. You know your problem, Coco?”
I don’t respond because I know he’s all too eager to tell me what he thinks is wrong with me.
“You don’t ever play the game.”
“What game?”
“Exactly. Everything in this life is a game. There are winners and there are losers. You have what it takes to be a winner, but you insist on sticking with the underdogs. It would be endearing, but you won’t survive that way, not without someone to take care of you.”
He can’t genuinely believe that he’s doing this to take care of me so I ignore him and shove another forkful of curry into my mouth. I hope he finds me gross as curry sauce dribbles down my chin.
Tucker continues, “You never take the easy road, Cosima. You never accept that life isn’t going to be a fairytale. Earth is doomed, the Corporation will never be dissolved and you are stuck here on this planet with me in a loveless marriage. We don’t need to love each other for this to work.”
“I don’t know what I did for you to hate me this badly,” I mumble.
“You didn’t do anything. I hate you because you’re what I used to be before I got this job. You remind me of how stupid and naïve people can get.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies shiftily.
“What’s with the earthquakes, Tuck?”
“Hm.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice them.”
“They’re earthquakes…”
“Still.”
“What about the lights in the sky today? Be honest, Tucker, are we safe on this planet at all?”
“The Corporation would never do anything to endanger the lives of its citizens.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
Tucker nods.
“Fine. I should know better than to think you’ll let it go.”
“Answer me. Now.”
“You want to know if we’re safe? You’re asking the wrong question. We aren’t safe. Nothing about this colony is safe. What you need to ask is whether you’ll be able to get out of here alive if anything happens to me when shit hits the fan.”
Chapter 7
I Need Sex… Now
I manage alright for the first week, although the consistent earthquakes never stop worrying me. Tucker and I continue to sleep in the same bed, and I continue to spend most of my days with Ingrid. I see why Tucker doesn’t like her. I like her just fine, but I get why Tucker doesn’t. She sees the world through a naïve lens, even as we stand on alien soil that may sour at any minute.
She believes, like most people do, that the corporation is ultimately good and they will lead us all into salvation.
She is impervious to my evidence to the contrary. She doesn’t care about how many million tons of nuclear waste they’ve dumped into the ocean, or the evidence of their human rights abuses at their warehouses across Earth. She’s been spoonfed media and believes that there is no other way. She hardly believes that Earth was once on a path of healing the wounds humanity caused. Tucker knows the Corporation doesn’t represent the ultimate good, but he doesn’t care.
I wake up on a “Thursday”. We keep Earth time, despite the new planet’s 24.5 hour day and the late sunsets which to me, render keeping time pointless. I suppose we need something to ground us, so we can pretend this alien land isn’t terrifying, unmapped and vulnerable.
On Thursdays, Tucker demands I make him oatmeal rations with a side of bacon. Because of his position, we are one of the few households permitted real meat. Chandi doesn't come in until later, so I make him breakfast. I’m grateful for the real meat at least. I get to work cooking, enjoying for once the fact that Ingrid isn’t awake early because for the first time since landing on the planet — I’m horny.
Yeah, I know, I probably shouldn’t be thinking about sex at all when there are still zoos and botanical gardens designed to entertain that should catch my interest. Still, I’m married, and the weight of Tucker’s disdain for me is settling. No more sex — ever — as long as I’m married to him. He can’t be so selfish, right? He must have his own needs, right?
Tucker stumbles out of our master bedroom, shaggy hair tussled and his robe parted slightly so I can see his chest hair and his broad, manly chest. If I can permit myself to forget that Tucker is one of the most detestable people I’ve ever had the misfortune of caring for, I can will myself to remember that he isn’t ugly. He’s quite attractive, an advantage he knows he has over most women — an advantage he once had over me and Clara.
“What are you staring at,” he grumbles.
I flip the bacon and keep staring at him across the kitchen island, hoping he takes the hint and just bends me over. I’m talking animal desires, okay? I have no desire to make love but it’s been so long that I just need to get passionately fucked. Hate fucking will do.
“Nothing,” I say. The bacon crackles and hot oil touches my forearm. I flinch. Tucker laughs.
“Don’t fuck up my bacon.”
He sits at the island with his pad and scrolls through the morning news reports from Earth. There are only two journalists on the new planet and they’re kept well out of sight at the Corporation’s behest.
“What’s the point in reading Corporation news. You know it’s all bullshit.”
Tucker raises a curious eyebrow.
“It’s my job to know what bullshit. I need to look out for my department.”
“A man of the people,” I say.
He detects my biting tone and smirks.
“What’s gotten into you this morning.”
“Nothing,” I insist.
“I know you, Coco. I know that look.”
I scowl.
“What look?”
“You. Want. Sex.”
I drop the spatula, covered in hot oil, directly onto my foot.
“SHIT! FUCK!”
I jump back as Tucker laughs. My pain is amusing to him. How lovely. I rinse the spatula off as I limp over to the sink.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Have I told you recently that I fucking hate you?”
“Recently, no. But you’ve definitely said it.”
“Good.”
He taunts me.
“Is that what you want, Cosima, a man to make love to you? A man to care about you?”
He says it like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
“I want to go back to a time where I’d never agreed to come here with you.”
“You must have known what this would be like,” he says unsympathetically, returning his gaze to the morning news.
How could I have known that he’d want me as his prisoner? Plenty of people have “arrangements” these days when they enter marriages of convenience. I think to tell him as much, diplomatically of course.
“I need to fuck someone and if it’s not going to be you, then it’ll be someone else.”
His eyes grow cold and he reaches across the kitchen island and grabs my wrist, holding it over the flat, hot stovetop.
“That isn’t part of the agreement.”
My arm trembles unconsciously as he holds me tight over the heat. I know it’s within his power to press my arm to the stove and hurt me if he wants. I know the only thing keeping me from getting burned is his will. Tucker releases his grip.
“I don’t find your threats of infidelity charming,” he grumbles.
“You’re a pig,” I snap.
“I know. A pig with a pretty hot wife. If you want to sleep with s
omeone else, maybe I’ll charge them,” he muses.
“You can’t pimp me out you sicko,” I grumble.
I pile his plate high with bacon and scoop him a hot bowl of oatmeal. It takes everything in my power not to tip it over onto his lap. Tucker dips his spoon in and takes a bite.
“Eating anything?”
“No,” I grumble.
I’m hungry, but I’m more stubborn than hungry and this fruitless conversation has me agitated in more than one way.
“Sleep with anyone else and I’ll kill you, Cosima,” he says calmly as if he’s reading the football scores, “Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Perfect. Now be a doll and wake my lazy mother. Today, you’re taking her to the zoo.”
Chapter 8
I Am Leaving Tucker
I take Ingrid to the zoo to see the local fauna and she links arms with me and chats about each animal we come across. Most of them are similar to Earth creatures with some demented difference. The dogs have two heads and are all Shih Tzus. The cats have four eyes and claws that look more like talons. The birds in the large aviary are colored like macaws and rainforest parrots. Most of them squawk and they’re quick at picking up English words. They’re friendly and they don’t know yet to be afraid of us, even if we have them imprisoned.
I barely pay attention to the animals or Ingrid’s prattling on. I am still thinking about my conversation with Tucker. He will never sleep with me and he’ll make sure I never have sex again. My thighs have been clenched for weeks and I need a release — soon. I’ve never been this horny and been unable to work it out. Tucker keeps me occupied with his mother all day and then I spend all night with him. I can’t even have a moment alone to rub one out and it’s immensely frustrating.
Unless I escape our little marriage contract, I won’t be able to ever have sex again. I’m way too horny to live like this for long.
Ingrid doesn’t notice my plotting. From what I see of the animals in the zoo, wildlife on this planet will be a piece of cake. I’ll have Tucker’s department of the Corporation hunting me down which will completely fuck me over because I’ve escaped the jurisdiction of one branch on Earth, but pissing off Tucker will mean hiding for a long time. I’ll have to fake my own death. I’ve never been too good at that. I tend to end up feeling guilty after a while — stupid conscience.
