by V. K. Ludwig
“I’ll talk to them,” I said with a wink and strolled across the room.
I found Betsy in her favorite flower-print armchair playing her usual game of chess with her companion droid. Her color-drained hair stood cropped close to her scalp, the specks of age shining through from underneath.
“How are you feeling today, Betsy?” I asked.
She gazed up from brown eyes that had seen a lifetime, magnified by those glasses she wore. “Well, fine, thank you for asking. Do I know you, young man?”
I dismissed her droid with a flick of my eyes and lowered myself into the armchair across. “It’s me, Balgiz. Remember?”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, a slow, hesitant nod bringing a smile onto her pale lips. “Oh, yes, of course. What was I thinking? How was work, Balgiz?”
“We’re making progress,” I said and leaned over, taking her hands into mine. “Are they treating you well? How’s the food?”
“Oh, the food’s just fine, but the music is so loud at night. How is anybody able to sleep like that?”
“Music?”
“Yes, yes. Those young people just go blasting their music. I might be old, but I’m not deaf.”
I gave a nod in agreement, knowing full well there was neither music nor young people around here. Aside from me. “I’ll talk to them. Music too loud. Biscuits not buttery enough. Want me to finish that game of chess with you?”
She slowly pulled her hands back and glanced down at the checkered board as if she’d forgotten it was there. And she most likely had. But whatever memory her Alzheimers blocked, how to win a game of chess wasn’t one of them.
Granted, I was a beginner. A human male from my unit had explained it to me since it was Betsy’s favorite. But the moment she picked up her queen, I knew I’d be on the losing side once more.
“Where’s Dan?” she asked, glancing around for her husband.
Male pride had my fist clench around the game piece, and I let out a deep sigh. Telling her that Dan never mattered because I was her fated one wasn’t an option. It only confused her. Tried it once. Didn’t go well.
“Dan died fifteen Earth years ago of colon cancer, Betsy.”
“Oh.”
That was all she said, her shoulders slumping before she picked up another game piece, the loss of her husband already forgotten again. At least in that regard, her disease might have been a blessing.
“Did he eat the string beans?” she asked. “Because he doesn’t like string beans. I told them he doesn’t like them, but the people here keep serving them anyway.” Her shaky hand tossed the knight onto the board. “I’m tired. I want to go upstairs.”
“Alright.” I pushed myself up from the chair and offered her my arm in support. “I’ll bring you upstairs, and the care droids can take over from there.”
Wrinkled hands grabbed for my arm, their strength fading with each visit. At ninety-three, Betsy had gone beyond the average life expectancy for a human female. How much longer would I make this drive to Oak Valley? The thought of losing the female I’d been fated to be with ran cold up my spine, no matter how faint that connection we shared.
The lift brought us to the third floor, where I guided her toward her room with slow steps. Ceiling lights illuminated everything the moment we stepped inside, and her body-conforming bed immediately adjusted its height for easy access.
As much as I tried to guide her toward it, Betsy drifted left to her nightstand. She grabbed for the framed picture there, colors faded red and cream, showing a young Dan in uniform.
She swatted me away and sat down on her bed, the wrinkles around her eyes scrunching together. “Isn’t he handsome? He gave me this photograph before he left for Germany. He was only twenty-one back then.”
“I’m sure he was a fearless male.”
“I was so smitten with him,” she said, the single tear rolling down her cheek proof that those never ran dry, no matter our age. “He said he’d come back to me, and he did. We had no money back then, so he built our house together with his brother. Every day after work, he laid bricks. Even built me a porch.”
I lifted her legs onto the bed and slipped the shoes off her feet. “Let me call the care droid for you.”
Betsy pressed Dan’s picture against her heart, a place so full with another male; there was no room for me. Fifteen years dead. That guy in the image? It should have been me. How could she have loved him so much when he’d never been her fate?
“You’ve been together for a very long time,” I said.
The moment I leaned over to activate zero gravity on her bed, she took my hand. “What was your name?”
That twitching in my eye again. “Balgiz.”
“Balgiz, yes.” Her gaze locked with mine as if something deep within her irises recognized what we could have been… some sixty Earth years ago. “Dan and I have our troubles, but we refuse to give up. Young people like you don’t understand that.”
Oh, I understood.
I took care of a dying Earth woman who could never give me what the Gaia link had promised. Somehow, she’d found the love of her life in someone other than me, all thanks to that split gene pool.
Granted, when I’d signed up for Garrison Earth, I didn’t expect my match to be a ninety-three-year-old elder. Back then, I had all those ridiculously detailed images of what she might look like.
Now I just wished she would have more… life?
Chapter 3
Rosie
“Chug! Chug! Chug!” everyone blasted around me as the shot set my esophagus on fire.
I placed the empty glass onto the table with a clink and threw my hands up with a cough. “Gaia link, bitches!”
“Whohoo!”
The group of bridesmaids cheered, the way they hammered their shot glasses on the table, blasting my eardrums. I sat sprawled out on the white couch at the Toroxian tailor, toasting to men, the Empire, and the crap they’d promised.
When I thud-thud-thudded the glass against the table, the tailor’s assistant immediately set short Toroxian legs into motion. An increasingly common sight now that the Wardens had partially lifted the interstellar travel ban. A carafe poured more of that blue booze, filling the shot glasses to the brim.
“¡Ay güey!” my sister Izzy snarled over the shoulder of her magnificent green wedding gown, her hair in an elegant updo. “It’s two pm for Christ’s sake. How about you go easy on the booze?”
“Why? It’s not like Endal can’t pay for it.” Slightly uncoordinated feet weaved through outstretched legs, and I tugged on the pearl-embellished bodice of her dress. “My sister got herself a hot Vetusian scholar who’s running around in a green dress all day.”
She slapped my hand away. “It’s not a dress, it’s a robe. And stop touching before this gets all dirty.”
“Dress. Robe. Whatever. Fact is, if he can pay for this fancy thing, then he can afford the blue stuff.”
She let out an annoyed huff, lifted the train of her gown, and spun by a few degrees. “You’re here to help me make this dress perfect. Not to get wasted.”
I shrugged, making black curls fall off my shoulders. “I can do both.”
Two feet below, the Toroxian tailor gave a bump against my kneecap. “Excuse me. If you would step aside so I could note the changes to be made…”
I did as asked and gave the little man room to work. Perfect a dress that sat against my sister without a flaw, matching that impeccable life she lived. Foolproof in all things love, allowing her to skip heartbreak and go straight to Mr. Right.
Kay got up from the couch and walked over, sidestepping around the pedestal with an assessing stare. “I think we’re getting there.”
A snort pushed some of that leftover burn from the shot up my brain. “Can’t believe it only took us five alterations.”
“You only marry once,” Izzy said. “If this was your dress, you’d want it perfect too.”
My shoulders tensed at that. Wasn’t that Gaia link a glorious
thing? Until the department knocked on your door, telling you that your fated mate bled to death inside a restaurant during phase one. And who wanted to date a girl you weren’t fated to be with, left alone marry? Nobody.
Izzy jutted her chin, and I followed behind toward the dressing room, letting the train drag over the floor since she asked me not to smudge it and all. Five years younger and married before me, while I couldn’t even get a fucking date.
“Help me out of this thing,” she said, turning her back toward me. “You’re lucky mama didn’t make it since she had the appointment with the healer. If she’d see you drink like that, she’d probably smack you over the head with her purse.”
I wiped my hands down my jeans, which didn’t make me stand out as an unclaimed female at all. “I have to load up while I still can.”
She inhaled a breath and sucked in her cheeks, only to release it all in a weighted sigh. “Rosie, I really believe that this breeding contract is a terrible idea. You have a job at the programming department. What do you need that money for?”
“Who said I need the money? I never mentioned that I did it for the credits,” I blurted. “And what’s so wrong with it? A lot of women are doing it.”
“I don’t care what other women do. Maybe they have special circumstances, or they can’t get a job, or they always wanted a child —”
“Who says I don’t want a child?”
Another glance over her shoulder, this one accompanied by eyes flicking upward. “You didn’t finish your teaching degree because you said you figured out that you hate kids.”
“Wait a moment! That’s not what I said.”
“So, what did you say then?”
“I said,” — I flung my index finger up, holding it over her shoulder so she’d see it — “I said that I came to the realization that I don’t like other people’s children. That doesn’t mean I don’t want own children or wouldn’t like them.” I opened the bodice, the pearls heavier in my hands than they should have been, mumbling, “Alex and I talked about having kids.”
She said nothing to that, and we both knew it was for the best. Instead, she slipped back into her regular green dress, the neckline beautifully embroidered, giving away her mate’s status.
“What if the Vetusian they assigned to you is a perve?” she asked.
“Shit, I hope he is, considering how long it’s —”
“You’re so fucked up in the head,” she said with something between a grunt and a laugh. “Honestly. What if he’s weird? Or ugly?”
I draped her wedding gown over the hover bar. “Relax! It’s not like they allow every Vetusian into the program. They pre-screen them and make sure they’re psychologically sound and stuff. He’s some big wig warrior at some special unit. Complete eye candy, by the way.”
“So, you know what he looks like?”
“Uh-huh. They showed me his hologram.”
She slipped into her shoes, a smile tugging on her lips. “And?”
“Dark hair, beard, warrior-built. He’s handsome enough I’d let him fuck me even if he was weird.”
“You’re awful,” she said, letting me watch her smile diminish back into a look of doubt. “But still… a child is so much responsibility. I mean, is it worth it just for those forty-thousand ICs they give you? You’ll burn through that before that kid joins a stratum.”
“They give an additional twenty if it’s a girl, and a monthly amount from birth until the kid gets drafted.”
She swung her hands up in a what-the-fuck motion. “So it is about the credits.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Rosita.” She placed the entire weight of my name onto my shoulders right along with her arms. “I’m your sister, and I don’t want you to do something so life-changing for the wrong reasons.”
Why her words churned my guts like that, I couldn’t say. If anything was about to change my life, then it was me, because I refused to let that damn link ruin everything a second time.
“I’m almost ovulating,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll meet him for the first time this Thursday, and I won’t back out.”
Her chin dropped with a huff just as she stepped out of the dressing room. “Why won’t you just wait until you found someone to settle down with? What about that Vetusian you went out with last week?”
I followed behind her along the brightly lit hallway, photographs of elaborate gowns lining the wall. “Yeah, funny story. When we left the restaurant, he offered me a hundred credits if I’d sleep with him. Said he had a match and didn’t want to disappoint her when they first mated.”
She gave me a pitiful look. “Things will get better for women…”
“Who got put on the bench because they don’t have a match?” I finished what she probably didn’t even believe herself. “Let’s face it: I’m the leftover piece of cake nobody wants. You might only marry once, Izzy, but I’ll probably never marry. Or a bunch of times. Unfortunately, I can’t rely on the convenience of fate, so a breeding contract it is.”
The moment my sister stepped around the corner, a voice disabled my legs. “Izzy!”
I stood there, behind the wall, my breath flat and my limbs frozen numb. Crack after crack, the surface of my heart released a rage that threatened to suffocate my lungs. What the fuck was she doing here?
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The voice grated my nerves, so familiar, so fucking false. “We had some troubles at the cargo intake, and they made me stay longer. Can’t wait to see the dress!”
I flicked a glance over my shoulder.
No rear exit.
Panic swelled my chest.
The voice turned into a whisper. “Is, um, is she here?”
Oh, please…
Stupid bitch couldn’t have put more pity on a word that short.
With no escape, I pushed my tits out, sucked my stomach in, and smoothed my hair down. Then I stepped around the corner.
Only to deflate like a whoopee cushion.
Damn that new haircut looked good on her, bringing out all those cold shades of blonde that gave her that nordic European look.
She had the guts to smile at me. “Hey, Rosie.”
“Hey, Ellen.”
A quake started in my knee, but I told myself I wouldn’t let it buckle. When it did, I shifted my weight onto the other side and stood up straight. I wouldn’t let this get to me. My sister and I shared a friend. Had shared a friend. Not anymore.
Adrenaline flooded my system. For some, adrenaline helped them sharpen their senses. In my case, I just suddenly had the urge to pee before my bladder burst.
The air cooled around the tip of my nose, and everyone stared at us.
As if this was some sort of wild west movie, and everyone waited for us to draw our guns. Except that I’d been shot already, and I could have sworn a glance down my chest would have revealed oozing bullet wounds.
“I have to get back to work,” I said, forcing confidence into every single step toward the couch.
I reached for my purse but somehow clasped my fingers around another shot glass instead. The blue liquid seared down my throat, set that rage in my stomach on fire, the combustion making me swing around.
“Just to be clear,” I grumbled, gaze pinning down Izzy, finger stabbing toward Ellen. “You invite that bitch to your wedding, and you’ll have one sister less attending.”
Izzy furrowed her brows. “Please don’t make a scene.”
“Why is she even here? You are my sister, and you invited her to this?” I downed another shot, then grabbed my purse for good. “Next time, at least give me the courtesy of telling me, so I won’t have to take time off work for this bullshit.”
I elegantly swayed toward the door then stumbled over the threshold. Outside, I turned left and walked back to work, a jeans-wearing woman drowning in an ocean of colorful dresses.
But not much longer.
Chapter 4
Rosie
I grabbed the last nacho chip from the basket and dip
ped it into the bowl of red salsa. After waiting for over half an hour in that blue corner booth, my heart no longer flipped over whenever a warrior walked into the restaurant. Would they charge me for the chips and tap water if I got up and left?
The sorry smile on the waitress’s face made it clear someone with a functioning uterus who got stood up was a rare sight. “Can I bring you more water?”
I stared at the lonely ice cubes inside my glass. “I’m good.”
“How about more nacho chips?”
“They’re free, right?”
She raised a brow as if I didn’t have to earn my ICs. “Well, they’re complimentary with your order.”
Given my situation, I had to cling to every single credit, so I handed her the empty basket with a head shake. “Would you be so good and double-check with the hostess that she remembers my name? Rosie?”
“She has it written down, ma’am.”
I forced the embarrassment from my tone. “Would you check again?”
She nodded and walked off with her blonde ponytail bouncing against her shoulders, leaving me behind with melting ice cubes and crumbs clinging to my underarms.
Billows of steam followed sizzling frying pans as waiter droids carried them to tables, the onions and green peppers making my stomach roll over. At the very least, I would have liked to get a free meal out of this, but those times were apparently over.
“My boss said they’re on the house,” the waitress said as she stepped back up again, placing the pity-fuck of nacho chips onto the table. “And I spoke to the hostess. Nobody that came in asked for you.”
As much as my lips wanted to droop, I pulled them into a quick smile. “He probably got held up at work.”
“Probably.”
I threw my head back and stared at the sombrero dangling above the table, my stomach clenching. That guy had stood me up, which meant I had to get someone else assigned from the department. How long would that take?
