by Lili Zander
“I’m not sure.” Yas starts to massage my breasts, and I hum in pleasure. So good. “Keep doing that.”
“Okay,” he says agreeably. He rolls my nipples between his fingers, and I throw my head back and grind against him. “How was the party?”
I can’t be expected to concentrate on what he’s saying when his fingers are doing magic, magic things. “It’s not a party. Just happy hour.” I turn around and slide my hand into his waistband, wrapping my fingers around his erection. “There’s going to be a party though. Next week. We’re doing Secret Santa.”
“Rezzix told me about Santa. Some guy breaks into your house every year?”
Yeah, Paige did not do a good job explaining Santa Claus. “With presents. That’s the important thing.” I slide to my knees, tugging off Yas’ pants.
“You don’t want to wait for Thes?”
I grin up at Yas. His cock is throbbing in my hand, and he’s thinking of Thesix? “I’m too impatient. He’ll catch up when he gets back.”
Much later, the three of us are in bed. I’m wedged between Thes and Yas. “I told the other women,” I tell them, my voice quiet. “That I couldn’t have babies.”
Thesix traces a circle on my arm. “How did it feel?”
“Freeing.” I think about it. “I always thought I was okay with the hysterectomy. After all, the doctors saved my life. But then I kept the fact that I couldn’t have kids a secret. As if it was something I was ashamed of.”
Yas laces his fingers in mine. “Hurux said we can leave next week.”
“We can?” I sit up and stare at Yas. “That soon?”
We’ve made plans, of course. We’re going to live in the Uncharted Reaches, a collection of planets that sit outside the High Empire’s reach. The rebellion is in the same quadrant of space, but we’re not joining them. We have children to raise. We’re settling instead on the sleepy planet of Primus V. We could have returned here, but Yas and Thes didn’t really want to. I can’t blame them. They’ve been imprisoned here for sixty-five years. They don’t have good memories of this planet.
“The papers are arranged? The orphanage won’t change its mind?”
“They’re two Lowborn children in the High Empire,” Thesix replies. “Nobody wants them.”
A fist clenches around my heart. I can’t think of them being unwanted without bursting into tears. The three of us will give them a home. Warmth. Happiness. “Except us. We want them.”
“We do.” Thesix smiles at me, but his eyes stay bleak. “We can’t cure all of the High Empire’s ills, May. But we can make a difference in the lives of these younglings.”
The earlier talk of home and the holidays have brought back my memories of Christmas. We weren’t rich, but my cousins were. Every Christmas morning, Sally and Jess had a dozen presents under the tree—fancy electronics, bikes, the latest American Girl doll—while I had cheap knock-offs. It sucked, but I learned soon enough about money. What we could afford. What we couldn’t. I never asked my parents for anything; I didn’t want them to feel bad.
This Christmas, I’m going to ask for a miracle. I want those children. I want to ease the sadness from their eyes, and I want to shower them with love. So much love.
“Can we leave the morning after the holiday party?”
Yasix reaches up and pulls me back to bed. “We’ll leave at dawn,” he promises. “First stop, the orphanage, and then, Primus V. Now go to sleep, love.”
I remember the evening of Bryce’s baby shower. Not too long ago, though so much has happened since then that that night feels like the distant past.
My mates had promised me that night that there was hope. They promised that we would leave the prison planet one day. That we would adopt. They promised me that if I wanted children, I would have them.
They’ve kept their promise.
I snuggle up between them, content and grateful, and fall asleep.
6
Paige
Everyone knows whether they’re staying or leaving. Me? I’m undecided.
It shouldn’t be so complicated, really. It turns out that Rezzix and Magnux are really wealthy. Like billionaire-rich. Obviously, when they were stuck in the prison planet, without any way to communicate with the outside world or even leave, their wealth didn’t matter.
But it matters now. Rezzix’s brother has been running his empire and is quite happy to step aside and let Rez take over again. Rez would need a figurehead—he’s still supposed to be in exile, after all—but he could conceivably return home.
Magnux isn’t from the homeworld; he’s from Maarish, which isn’t even in the High Empire. His family emigrated there five generations ago. He shouldn’t have been tested, but he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and boom. Sixty-five years of exile. It’s a shocker to me that he’s not bitter about it. His family, who believed that he’d been killed in the High Empire, were thrilled to hear from him.
So that should be easy, right? We go to either Maarish or to the Southern Reaches, and I’ll live a life of luxury as the mate of two billionaires.
Except I know me. I like being busy. I can’t be one of the idle rich; I’d go crazy in a month.
“It’s up to you, Paige,” Rezzix had said. “I can run my business from anywhere. Granox might tell me he’s ready to retire, but I know my brother, and he doesn’t like being idle either. He’ll grumble about staying on, but he’ll secretly be relieved.”
“I’m in no hurry to settle in Maarish either,” Magnux had added. “We can’t go to Earth, Paige. If we go to either the Southern Reaches or to Maarish, you’ll be the only human there. I don’t want you to be alone, away from all your friends. If you’d like to stay in Ashara, that’s what we’ll do.”
Magnux has a valid point. I’m a social person, and the women here have become my friends. I don’t really want to go live on a planet where I don’t know anyone.
Can I point out how awesome Rezzix and Magnux are? They haven’t seen their families in more than sixty years, and their first thought is still of my comfort. To paraphrase an old Indiana Jones movie, I chose… wisely.
Back on Earth, I used to be a computer programmer. As a kid, I loved to code. I was passionate about it. I was the nerd with pale skin that never saw the sun. I would stay up all night to work on an app and go into school half-asleep.
Then my passion met the real world. The world in which most coders were men, and they were united in the belief that women couldn’t code.
I persisted. I butted my head over and over again against that invisible ceiling. Over and over, I watched my male colleagues get sent to conferences. They got to work on the exciting stuff, and I was stuck doing maintenance on legacy systems. It sucked.
Matters had come to a head when my team lead—a smug, entitled jackass—had assigned me to testing. “Testing’s important, Paige,” he’d said. “Be a team player.”
Fuck that shit. Everyone else got to do what they wanted, and I—the only woman on the team—had to be a team player. I wasn’t blind. Despite Josh’s attempt to gaslight me, I could see the writing on the wall. Because I was a woman, I was always going to be stuck doing the work the guys didn’t want to do.
So I’d made the most impulsive decision of my life. I’d quit my job, and applied to go to Zoraht.
Gar, the Makpi in charge of our resettlement, had come by a couple of days ago. “What do you want to do?” he’d asked me. “What was your prior training?”
I’d told him I was in technology back on Earth, and his voice had turned animated. “Ah, excellent. We’re always looking for TechMages.”
“Aren’t all TechMages Adrashian?”
“The Adrashian Federation is protective of their technology,” he’d replied. “But here on Ashara, anyone with skill can apply.”
We’d chatted some more. I’d learned that TechMage was a bit of an umbrella term. Some people coded. Other people built planes and spaceships and all kinds of cool stuff. I wasn’t interested in beco
ming an engineer, but if I could code without rampant sexism getting in the way…
Well, that’s the dream, isn’t it?
Which brings me to this morning. Today’s my aptitude test, and I’m way more nervous than I should be. I ate breakfast, but the food’s not sitting well. Taking the test seemed like a good idea when Gar was talking about it, but now, in the cold, clear light of day, I’m rethinking my decision. Ashara has advanced technology, far more advanced than anything on Earth. What makes me think I can cut it here? It’s like asking a toddler to write War and Peace.
Rezzix and Magnux aren’t here, which is also my fault since I told them I wanted to be alone when I took the test. At the time, I thought that I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of my mates, but now, I’m rethinking that too. I could use a pep-talk.
Just do your best, Paige. Nobody’s expecting you to ace this thing.
Wow, that’s a shitty pep-talk. The guys are way better at this.
The doorbell chimes. My examiner is here. This is it. The moment of truth.
Wiping my palms on my skirt, I open the door. There are two Adrashians there, both women. “Hello, Paige Watkins,” one of them says.
“Come on in.” There’s a bit of a tremor in my voice. Damn it. I’ve never freaked out about taking a test in my life. Since when did I become such a wuss?
They enter. “I don’t speak Adrashian,” I say nervously. “Gar said it wouldn’t be a problem, but…”
“It isn’t. The test is designed to be species-neutral.”
How? I want to ask, but I hold my tongue.
The aliens set a small square box on the table, and one of them waves her bracelet over it. “Shall we get started?”
Do I have time to throw up first? “Sure.”
The box emits a hum and then projects an image in the air. A three-dimensional image of three fish. Two of the fish look alike, both red and scary, and one is green.
There are no instructions.
Pattern recognition, maybe?
Should I pick the pair or the odd one out?
Some direction would really be nice.
I give my examiners a questioning glance, but they give me blank looks in reply. I guess I’m on my own.
Great.
I pick the odd one out.
The image flickers and disappears, and a maze appears.
Okay. Let’s do this thing.
An hour later, I’m wiped. Almost too tired to find out how I did. Almost. “How was I?”
The Adrashians beam at me. “You were very good,” the talkative one says. “In fact, I think you have the best non-Adrashian score in all of Ashara.”
Shock blankets me. “Really?”
The quieter of the two finally speaks. “Really. Of course, you are a woman.”
And there it is. “What do you mean, I’m a woman?”
The Adrashian blinks. “Well, you are, are you not? I was informed that you are a female of your species.”
Ah, the joys of intergalactic communication. “Yes, I am. But why did you say I’m a woman in this context?”
“Women of every species test better at pattern recognition,” she replies. “The majority of TechMages are women.”
Wait what?
“Your coders aren’t men?”
She looks surprised. “Men? Not often.”
Mostly women coders? I’m definitely not on Earth anymore.
Okay. In a perfect world, I’d be advocating for equality for everyone, but I’m not perfect. I’ve had to put up with Josh’s bullshit for too long.
“We’d be delighted to offer you a place in our training program,” Chatty-Adrashian says. “If you’re interested?”
Yes! I might look like I’m holding it together, but inside, I’m doing my best cheerleader imitation. “I have to talk to my mates,” I tell them. “But if they’re okay with it, then yes. I’d love to join your program.”
7
Olivia
My mates were asleep by the time I got back from Not-Really-Tuesday, and I didn’t have the heart to wake them. It took some restraint. Zunix and Liorax were in conference with Cax, Hurux, Arax, and Nyx the entire day, and I wanted to know what had happened.
But it’s morning now, and there’s syn-coffee. I fill my mug and fix them with a tell-me-everything look.
Predictably, Zunix laughs. “If you wanted to attend yesterday’s meeting, why didn’t you?”
“Me?” I bat my eyelashes at him. “I’m just a harmless human woman. I like clothes and shiny things, not affairs of state.”
Liorax groans. “For Caeron’s sake, are we doing that again?”
“I’m giving it a shot. Chances are, it won’t last. There were forty-five people in the Dsar Cliffs camp, and at least half of them knew I wasn’t a complete airhead. That’s not a really effective cover, but it’s good practice for the rebellion. People let things slip when they think they’re talking to a stupid person. And who could be stupider than a big-boobed woman from a technologically backward planet?”
Zunix shakes his head wryly. “Always plotting.”
“And you love me for it.”
He smiles. “I do.” He spoons some sludgy-homeworld food into his mouth. I’d tried it once. Gack. I’ll stick to coffee. “The prisoner transfer is complete. Hurux’s soldiers have been returned to the High Empire. As a gesture of goodwill, the Senate also authorized the return of the three Adrashian cloakships that the Zoraken used to get past the asteroid belt.”
“You’re talking about the ships that Hurux and his troops used to land here, right? Not the ships that Beirax’s friends left for him?”
“Correct.”
I’m still surprised at the Senate’s generosity. Adrashian cloakships are expensive, even for Ashara. “They gave them up?”
“It was a calculated move. If Lenox lost the ships, he would lose face in front of the Adrashian Federation. He’s already suffered a blow to his honor. His bondmate-to-be has left him, and your friends do not wish to return. The Senate argued—correctly—that there was no need to rub his nose in it.”
“A cornered animal lashes out.”
“Exactly. It would be foolish to bait Lenox right now. Instead, by returning the ships without demanding other concessions, Ashara appears magnanimous.”
Liorax watches the two of us with an amused smile. He’s perfectly capable of joining this conversation—he was a Highborn who would have ruled his house on his father’s death, and he’s been trained to rule—but political maneuvering doesn’t interest him as much as it does Zunix and me. Lio doesn’t care for shadowy games; he’s more… direct. “Cax doesn’t seem convinced that the peace will hold.”
“No. In the Senate yesterday, he argued that Ashara had six months before Lenox changed his mind and attacked. The Senate bickered and dithered about it, of course, but eventually, they agreed. They formally tasked Cax with finding a replacement home for Ashara.”
“Bryce will like that, I think.” I drain my mug of coffee and get up to refill it. “How does one go about finding a planet to live in? Aren’t most of them habited?”
“Most are. A few, like Trion VI, are sparsely populated. They could find one of those.”
“Or they could make contact with another hidden city like Ashara, and propose a merger,” Lio points out.
My mouth falls open. “They’re thinking of that?”
“Right now, all options are on the table.”
Wow. Never a dull moment around here.
“I also heard from Dariux,” Zunix adds.
“Of course you did.” I roll my eyes. I don’t hate Dariux. I don’t hate vipers either; I just don’t want to hold one in my hand. “What did he say?”
“Tarish is over-extended. He’s not set up to fight wars on multiple fronts. He’s trying to do too much, and he’s self-aware enough to realize it. Finding the Draekons imprisoned in Brunox’s secret labs isn’t going to be a priority for him.”
Brunox is the Head
of the Council of Scientists. For close to sixty years, he’s been setting up hidden laboratories in the corners of the Zorahn Empire, where his pet scientists experiment on Draekons that were marked for exile. Brunox is, as best as we can tell, trying to build a Draekon army of his own.
Raiht’vi, Brunox’s daughter, knew the locations of these labs. She’s just changed allegiances, and she’s joined the rebellion. Tarish gave her protection on the condition that she disclose all of her father’s secrets.
“Brunox will be moving them,” I say out loud. “He knows Raiht’vi will talk. He can’t let the labs be found.”
Zunix nods soberly. “That’s not the worst-case scenario,” he says. “There’s a slight risk that Brunox will destroy the labs and kill everyone in them to keep his secret.”
My skin grows cold. Zunix is right. Brunox can’t risk Lenox finding out that he was trying to create a private army of mighty dragons. Lenox would rightly see that as a threat to his rule.
“Ru’vi knows about the labs,” Zunix continues. “But Lenox doesn’t, and Ru’vi would like to keep it that way. It maintains the balance of power between Lenox, Ru’vi, and Brunox.”
In other words, Ru’vi, the evil Spymaster of the High Empire, is probably blackmailing Brunox.
“We’ve got to act before Brunox does.”
My mates nod. “Tarish is putting together a small strike force,” Zunix says. “But they can’t be everywhere at the same time.” His expression goes distant. He’s in Spymaster-mode. Weighing all the possibilities, evaluating everything he knows about the various players so that he can predict their next move. “Brunox will try to salvage as much of his operation as he can, but if we move openly, he’ll panic and burn everything to the ground.”
“We’ll need to be stealthy.”
“Yes.” He looks at me questioningly. “We don’t have to be involved.”
“Of course we do.”
