Bound by Her Promise

by Jaye Peaches

  “I’ve another surprise for you.” He crossed to the kitchen and came back with his present. He rested it on his palm.

  “Is that a hardboiled egg?” She gaped at the white yolk formed into a perfect oval.

  “Yep. No powdered eggs up here.”

  “How in the blazes do you have these?” She accepted his offering with a broad smile. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll show you soon, don’t worry.”

  He returned to sitting next to her and waited for her to finish eating. When she brushed the crumbs off her legs, he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. His pulse raced. It was time to find out the truth about his bride.

  “Lysa. I know we’ve only been together for a brief while, but to me it doesn’t matter. You’ve more than proved yourself to be a wonderfully sexy lady. I fucked you hard and you took it, gave back with genuine pleasure. What more could a husband ask for?”

  She put down her plate and turned a shade of crimson.

  “I would like you to marry me and even if we end our time together in divorce, I hope we will always be friends.” He straightened up and caught sight of her watery eyes. “However, before I take you to the adjudicator and sign the contract, I want you to be honest with me. I know you’re not typical of Corporate wives. There’s something about you that I can’t… reconcile. Tell me what it is you’re hiding. If we’re to marry, be friends, there are to be no secrets between us.”

  Lysa sprung up and paced the room, wringing her hands. Several times she halted, opened her mouth to speak, before changing her mind and returning to stalk the length of the pod.

  She came to stand before him, palms pressed together as if in prayer. “Can I tell you a story? I don’t want to lie to you or hide things from you. You’re right. We need to be friends to survive this Godforsaken place. I appreciate you’re honesty.”

  “Tell me.” He settled back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest. Her demeanour worried him. She’d lost her confidence and struggled to hide her nerves.

  She took a deep breath. “I want to tell you about a couple who loved each other deeply. They married young and hoped for a great future together. He was a miner, she a schoolteacher. They had a child, a girl, unplanned but welcomed. However, the miner had already accepted a job on a colony and as you know, children are forbidden on the Outer Rim. They left their daughter behind with a loving grandmother. She was two years old. They went to Europa.”

  “There aren’t mines on Europa,” interrupted Blake. Where was this tale going?

  “I know, but there were twenty years ago. Europa was not as stable as this one. A year after they arrived, there was a massive explosion, destroying the colony and all its… inhabitants.” Her voice broke and she covered her mouth with a hand. “Sorry, this is so hard.”

  “Go on, Lysa.” The tale started to make sense. Before him stood the grown up daughter.

  “The little girl never knew her parents and she was grateful for her doting grandmother, who brought her up. She desperately wanted to know why her mother and father died, but nobody could explain the circumstances. The Corporation abandoned Europa and Callisto was chosen to be the main source of minerals. She read everything about mines and grew fascinated by them. She studied what she could and it kindled a dream in her heart.”

  “What is that dream, Lysa?” he asked, leaning forward.

  “To be a mining engineer.”

  He shook his head. A doomed ambition. “Women can’t be engineers. It is prohibited. Punishable by imprisonment for inciting dissent. So why are you here if you can’t work as an engineer?”

  She crept forward. “I reached so far with my studies and took some exams—”

  “How?” he queried.

  “You can do it all remotely, online studying. I set up a bogus male identity and took the exams… I passed with distinction.”

  Blake stood up. “Lysa. You’ve committed fraud.”

  She cringed. “That isn’t the end of it.”

  Blake stared up at the ceiling, hands on his hips. “Go on,” he muttered before sitting back down.

  “I couldn’t complete the course. The Corporation doesn’t give the general public access to their systems. I got stuck, unable to learn any more. But up here.” She walked over to the Comms system, where the colony computer could be accessed and touched the screen. “Here I can complete my studies. You have access—”

  Blake leapt up again, anger bubbling over and it was his turn to pace the room, fuming at her deceit. “You’ve no interest in being my wife. You just used me to complete your studies.”

  “No.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I mean, yes that was the plan. All the way here, on the shuttle, I’d convinced myself I just had to be a wife and gain access to the system, see all the schematics, the protocols, all things I couldn’t access on Earth and then I’d return home and take the final exams. I can see how it might appear to you—mercenary, calculating, manipulative, all those things—but Blake,” she sniffed, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye. “I do want to be your wife because you’re right, I need a friend. I can’t lie to you any longer, pretend I’m something I’m not. I don’t want to do this on my own, but I won’t… won’t give up. I owe my parents a promise.”

  “Promise?” He growled, appalled at her duplicity.

  “To make mines a safer place. You should know, the Corporation cuts corners, covers up mistakes. They might have pulled out of Europa, but are things any safer here?”

  Blake knew things were tough below ground and there were plenty of near misses. However, he couldn’t condone her behaviour. “I can’t marry you if you begrudge being my wife. I knew you were different when I saw you for the first time, uncomfortable with your nudity. So different from the others. I chose you because I believed we could be more than bedfellows. As much as I need the sex, I want a companion.”

  She clasped her hands back into a prayer shape, tears streaming down her face. “So do I. Please believe me. This one day together has changed me. I promise I will keep you happy. I will cook, keep house, kiss you when you come home from work, massage your tired body, make love to you. All I ask is you say nothing of my ambition to be an engineer. If I can pass the exams back on Earth, I can come out and demand to be taken seriously. All women should have this chance to prove themselves. I despise how authorities treat women as second-class citizens with no prospects of being anything but schoolteachers or nurses. We’ve so much more to offer society. Centuries ago women had equal rights.”

  He frowned, unconvinced by her lecture on women’s rights. Instead, he refocused his thoughts and recalled her reaction to a comment Dr Lamont made during her examination. “When the doc mentioned women bribing their way on to the marriage list, you went white. Why?”

  He could guess, but he had to hear her say it. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably. Lying to gain access to a computer system was one thing, but bribery was a serious crime. “I had to get in the catalogue. I found out a few officials could be bribed.”

  “But not with money?”

  Tears gathered a pace again, dripping off her chin. “I slept with two executives and they got me on the list.”

  “How many times did they fuck you?” he snarled.

  “Many. I hated it. It was nothing like us, I took no pleasure from it. I sold my virginity.”

  “Dear God,” Blake buried his face in his hands. “For how long?”

  “Several months. I grew used to it. Numb almost. But it got me here.”

  “And now you intend to bribe me with fucks.” How could she not see how it hurt him?

  “No!” She went white, swaying on her feet. “I always planned to tell you and have you agree to help me. I tried several times, but I was so tired. I need your cooperation, that’s all.” She knelt at his feet, gazing up and begged with her teary eyes. “Please, Blake. I will be a dutiful wife. All that you expected when you picked me. Don’t turn me away and send m
e back to Earth a failure. Let me prove it to you.”

  Blake groaned in frustration. “I don’t know, Lysa…”

  He shut his eyes, hiding her supplication, then opened them and looked at the computer screen. Striding past the kneeling Lysa, he stabbed his finger at the screen, activating it. Lysa sprung up, racing over to him. “Please, please, don’t turn me in.” She tugged at his arm and he shook her off.

  Lysa sobbed.

  “Enough!” He typed his request on the screen, cursing himself for being weak. “It will take a few hours to set up.”

  She sniffed. “Set up? I don’t understand.”

  “Our wedding.” He stared at the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. He might be making the biggest mistake of his life, but he couldn’t bear to see her in prison, probably undergoing a forced rehabilitation. She’d awoken something deep inside him and he wondered if the feeling was mutual. It was worth the risk.

  “You… you’re going to marry me?” she stuttered.

  He faced her, bringing her chin up and wiping away her tears with a thumb. “Yes. You will keep your promise to me, Lysa. I will take precedence to your studies. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Say it!”

  She knelt again, pressing her face into his thighs. “I promise, sir.”

  He drew her up, embraced her tight to his chest, then lowered his lips onto hers, tasting the salty residue of tears. Moving about her face, he kissed them all away—her cheeks, eyes and nose—all treated to his tender kisses. The computer bleeped behind him and he broke off.

  “Well?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.

  “The adjudicator will marry us in four hours.”

  “Oh thank you, thank you,” she jiggled about on the spot, clapping her hands.

  Her happiness was infectious and he swept her up into his arms. She pursed her lips.

  “What?” he asked.

  “What are we going to do for four hours?”

  “You’re my sex fiend now, however, my batteries are still recharging.” He grinned. “Let me show you where those tomatoes and eggs come from.”

  Chapter Four

  Unlike the previous day, when he gripped her by the elbow, they walked hand in hand. Lysa swung her arm, unable to hide her glee. An hour earlier, she’d faced near disaster and the horror of returning to Earth and potential criminal charges. Now, she strolled next to Blake, listening to him hum under his breath and she couldn’t believe her fortune. She might have misjudged him, worried that his vigorous style of fucking painted him as a demanding, uncaring man.

  Life was looking good again. She could relax and enjoy her stay on the Outer Rim.

  They ambled past the central atrium of the colony complex and he showed her the social facilities. The bar, where customers consumed non-alcoholic beverages and the occasional party was held. The gym, with its separate facilities for men and women.

  “No swimming pool. Sorry,” he added. He pointed in another direction. “This way to the shopping mall.”

  A mall was hardly an adequate description. She counted four shops covering basic supplies, a drug store and a beautician’s salon.

  “Run by the wives, for the wives,” explained Blake. “As for clothes, anything not stocked can be ordered in, although obviously it takes time to arrive. I’m issued with credits, more when we’re married and I can use these to order extra things. There is a quota though, but I’m happy for you to order in some dresses.”

  “Thank you,” she made a point of saying, squeezing his hand.

  They passed other couples, not all quite as amorous as Blake and her, a few men greeted Blake by name and grinned. “When?” asked one man with a scar down one cheek.

  “A few hours,” replied Blake.

  “Good for you, Blake. Bring her over to our pod sometime, introduce her to Sym.”

  “Thanks, Craig.” Blake led Lysa away down another long tunnel. They paused by a portal. Lysa could see lights in the distance—another huge complex.

  “The processing plant?” she asked.

  Blake pointed. “On the left. The ore is processed before shipping out in a huge freighter. Then there is the geotherm plant for supplying energy and the small structure is a basic recycling plant. Once I’ve finished two years underground, I spend the last year working in the plants.”

  “Must be better than being down there,” she remarked peering at the other buildings.

  “Yeah, some reward.” He laced his voice with sarcasm. “It’s all hard work. This way.”

  Lysa turned and before following Blake, spotted a doorway. An imposing double door with a sign above displaying two bold letters ‘PB.’ “What’s this place?” She moved to open the door.

  “No. Stay out. I don’t want you to go there. With any luck, you’ll never have to go in there.” He grabbed her hand, yanking her away.

  “Why?”

  “Another time,” he muttered. “I don’t want to talk of that place, not today.”

  She huffed. His vague response wouldn’t fob her off. She would come back and investigate for herself.

  At the end of the tunnel, he opened a bare metal door and let Lysa pass in.

  She gawped, eyes wide open at the structure. “Wow,” she gasped. They entered what looked like a huge dome shaped plant house. The air smelt strange, not unpleasant, but ripe as if the aroma of silage had flooded the room. All about were plants of various shapes and sizes. She recognised some—sweet peas, runner beans, carrots and tomato plants. The air was warm, humid and a fine mist sprayed over some plants.

  “You like it?” asked Blake fingering a nearby leaf.

  “Yes, how, I mean, who created this?” She crouched down and ran her fingers through the soil. It felt real, like proper dirt.

  “Ridley is quite enlightened. He believes good sustenance is important for our health, rather than a constant diet of dried food. He insisted the Corporation provided a facility, the Green Dome, as this is known as, for growing fruit and vegetables. And a chicken coop too.”

  In the far corner was netting and she heard the cheeping of chicks. “A cockerel, too, I assume.”

  “The only offspring allowed. The eggs, as with most produce, are rationed. I’m allowed half a dozen eggs a week. That will rise to a dozen once we’re married.”

  “How is this place maintained?”

  Blake kicked the dirt at his feet. “Compost from leftover food. The lights above provide natural daylight…”

  “I mean labour?

  “Ah. I’ve brought you here because it will be in your contract. After a twelve-hour shift, nine days on, three off, us men are beat. So all wives are required to work in here six hours a week. It’s compulsory.” He indicated a small group of women huddled in a corner with spades. “Not a problem?”

  “Hell, no. I’d love to work in here. It reminds me of my grandmother’s garden.”

  “Great.” He clapped his hands together. “The consequences of not complying.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Let’s not go there.”

  “I bet it’s popular.” She strolled amongst the vines, examining the ripening pea pods.

  “Uh, not. There have been a few unfortunate incidents when wives have missed the quota.”

  “Really? I’d thought… who are they then?” She pointed at the women busy digging.

  “Lifers.”

  She raised her eyebrows in confusion.

  “Love wives. The ones who came with their husbands. They have some kind of gardening club. Enthusiasts. Unlike the Corp wives, who don’t like getting dirty, at least not that kind of dirty.” Blake smirked.

  Lysa stared at the other women. Love wives, just like her mother had been. Blake’s scornful expression unnerved her. He implied not all wives were the same or equal in status, and she was about to join the ranks of wives who did little but have sex. If he called these women lifers, did it imply Blake didn’t expect to be married beyond the end of his contract? He made them sound
like prisoners, not happily married women. What went on that she didn’t know about?

  “You should get to know the wives,” he added.

  Lysa waved at the women as they paused to drink from bottles. They didn’t respond in kind. So much for making friends.

  * * *

  Blake cleared his throat. “Right. This is the office of Adjudicator Harkess. You address him as sir. Around here, he’s the main man.”

  Lysa fidgeted with her skirt, straightening it out. “I thought Ridley was the big boss?”

  “He is. However, he’s busy running the mine. Harkess is responsible for law and order. He arbitrates disputes and his word his final. The mine boss rarely bothers himself with the day-to-day stuff. I’ve only met him a handful of times.” Each time, Ridley had congratulated him on his dedication and hard work, which warranted him a bonus. He stashed the extra money in his savings, dreaming of the farm that he’d buy when he returned to Earth.

  “Anything else I need to know?” she asked.

  “Don’t talk unless spoken to.”

  She rolled her eyes up.

  “Lysa,” he snapped. “And don’t do that either.” Blake straightened his shirt. He’d wore his smartest clothes, unlike his one-piece work suit. He pressed the buzzer and the door unlocked.

  “He can’t stop us,” she blurted. “Can he?”

  “Not if you don’t say anything inappropriate. He might spot you’re not typical and want to know why. Damn judiciary, they never let things lie.” He opened the door.

  Harkess sat behind his desk tapping his screen and didn’t glance in their direction. Blake straightened his shoulders, clasped his hands behind his back and waited. It seemed ages before Harkess finished reading all the records. Every second, minute dragged. Lysa rocked on her feet and Blake glared at her to keep still. She almost swung her eyes upward, but quickly dropped them down again.

  “Everything looks in order,” said Harkess. A gaunt man with a pale complexion.

  Blake hid a sigh of relief.