by Alyx X
I nodded, signed his screen, and told him where I wanted my new nanny sent.
When I arrived home, I stepped into the quiet of the front entryway and turned automatically to my office on the left. Even from here, I could see the giant portrait of Lyra above my desk, and as I walked toward it, my chest ached. I didn’t often let myself grieve for her—I had a planet to care for—but, this evening, pain threatened to open a crevice in my chest.
“Daddy?” A tiny, hesitant voice called my name, and I turned to the child behind me.
Vike stood in the doorway, and I crouched so he could run into my arms. When I stood he rested his head against my shoulder, his thumb in his mouth and his other hand playing with my shoulder-length hair.
I inhaled the scent of my sleepy, four-year-old son, and let the knowledge that I was ensuring his future soothe me. Vike shifted, making himself more comfortable, and I tightened my arms as I looked at his smooth cheek. It had been a few days since I saw my children last. Business had kept me out of our home, but buying a nanny would offer them greater stability. They needed that. They deserved that.
2
Tessa
My new ident flashed where it rested in my wrist, the signal for me to proceed to the transition room. I’d been there several times to receive instructions on the flight to Hydronia, but this time anxiety buzzed in my chest. This was it. They weren’t just issuing fresh instructions on a new cleansing ritual anymore. I was about to begin my new life. All for you, Mama.
I walked through the familiar corridors of the ship, my ident flashing increasingly fast. I glanced at it. It was my third ident band in my life so far. I’d had the one Dad gifted me from birth, the one Mom and I bought from smugglers to replace Dad’s gift when we had to sell it, and now this utilitarian looking piece of Terran technology. Nothing made me feel more like a possession than wearing their handcuff.
I knocked on the door to the transition room before I entered. An older woman looked at me. She reminded me a little of the nurse from the hospital, and I shuddered. The woman smiled, but I didn’t return the greeting.
She glanced at some information on the screen she was holding. “Tessa Banks, Earthling 7674TES8?”
I nodded. I hated being a number.
“We’re going to get you ready for transport in the morning. Day one of repaying your debt starts tomorrow. Take a seat for me.” She indicated the white, shiny, two seat sofa.
The cushions remained full and plump as I sat on them, and I slid to my right a little.
“I’m going to implant your Translink Adaptor now, and we’ll activate it before you leave in the morning. It sits just underneath your ident, so please move that aside for me.”
I did as I was told, pushing the band farther up my arm, and the woman approached me, a small medical-looking dish in one of her hands. She perched next to me and set the dish on a small table in front of us.
“Hmm…” She screwed up her face. “I’ve never had to remove old tech first before. Were you already indentured?”
“In a manner of speaking.” But I didn’t elaborate. She didn’t really want to know about my life as a tracked employee, anyway.
She gestured to the instruments in her dish. “It looks worse than it is,” she explained. She lifted one instrument out. “This makes a small incision and injects the chip at the same time, which is better than the old method.”
I nodded, uncertain how making an incision in someone could be considered the upgrade.
“You might not want to look. Sharp scratch, and you might feel some additional discomfort as I scrape your old tracker away” she murmured, and I turned my head away as the top of my wrist burned.
We were in a windowless room somewhere in the middle of the ship. The only sound was the whoosh of filtered air and the background hum of the engines. My mind drifted to imagining my new life with the ice dragons, as it often had on the way here.
“There. All done.” She patted my wrist with a piece of fabric, and I noted a smudge of blood as she pulled it away.
Then I looked at my wrist. A shiny electronic face looked back at me as I changed the angle. I pushed my ident back over it, uncomfortable with being watched all the time.
“And now for the details of your contract.” She produced a scanner from a pocket in her white coat. “Wrist.”
She scanned my ident and the word caregiver formed across the surface. I held in my sigh of relief, I didn’t dare give in to that emotion. The job title sounded innocuous, but I couldn’t be sure.
Fear from the auction still lingered, and I thought of all the invasive and intrusive questions. Some of the girls had been required to strip down so their bodies could be inspected by men we could only hear. And some of them had been very clear they were buying a slave—for all kinds of services. I blinked back tears at the memory. Now wasn’t the time.
And I’d signed on for this? I was no stranger to hard work, but I didn’t want to be a stranger’s plaything. Someone had purchased me, and apparently was going to use me as a caregiver.
My ident buzzed with an incoming comm, and I looked at the woman. “Who’d contact me here?”
“It’s just the Terran Program sending details of your contract. Go ahead and answer it.” She began to clear away her little dish, and I passed my hand over my ident.
An image shimmered from my wrist. It was a family portrait of three cute children, their smiling faces revealing red eyes and blue-tinted skin with a hint of scales. I swallowed my surprise; I was on a dragon planet, after all. They didn’t look very old, and the youngest was certainly a baby.
“You can scroll through the pictures and information.”
I jumped at the woman’s voice. It had been so long since I’d had a properly working ident, I’d almost forgotten how they operated, but I gestured with my fingers, moving the pictures through the slideshow. I drew written files toward me with another gesture. The children were called Jari, Vike, and Luka. I liked the look of Jari—she was eleven—but her eyes seemed sad. The boys just looked like little bundles of mischief. At four years old and seven months old, they probably were.
As I worked through the files, I searched for a catch. This seemed too easy after some of the questions I’d received at the auction—childcare for three children. I quashed the relief starting to move through me again, but I couldn’t help feeling a little bit of excitement as I hoped this job was exactly how it appeared.
The pictures of the children also gave me tiny clues about the planet. I looked at the water in the images, so different even from the ocean bordering The Glass City at home. As I read farther, I smiled. The children’s personalities really shone through, and Jari was apparently a high academic achiever. I scrolled through information ranging from favorite colors to medical history and eventually arrived at a picture of a man.
I paused. His red eyes seemed alive somehow, even in the image. He was gorgeous, with a strong jaw and black hair. My heartrate kicked up a notch. I looked for further information on him but found only his age and a profession working in politics. There was no other useful information on his profile—after all, I could see for myself that his hair color was black, and his eyes were red. I tried to swipe to call up anything I’d missed, but I’d reached the end of the information packet, and I was helpfully sent back to the start and the picture of the three children. They really were beautiful.
“Why is there so little information on my employer? Is it always this way?” The idea of working for a total stranger unnerved me.
The woman looked up from the device she held in her hand. “He’s a special client. We’ve been asked to keep all information on him confidential.” Then she looked back down, dismissing any further questions.
The following morning my ident vibrated, waking me. I’d grown used to the noises onboard the ship and had learned to sleep here. I’d been given fresh clothes to wear to meet my employer. They looked almost like a uniform, firmly marking me as property of the Terran Prog
ram. After I washed, dressed, and ate a light breakfast, my ident glowed with the summons to the transition room. My gut gnarled into knots. This was it. They were about to activate my new adaptor and send me to my new employer. I huffed. Owner, more like. I was under no illusions over the fact that he’d essentially bought the rights to me.
My chest hollowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any of this anymore. It was okay to consider the prospect of taking this kind of work from the safety of an anonymous room on a ship flying through endless space, but shit had just gotten real. All for you, Mama.
In the transition room, the same woman from the day before met me. “Wrist.”
I moved my ident out of the way, and she held her scanner above the little, watchful face. It flickered briefly.
“Day one,” she said, and I swallowed. “Please follow signs to the exit for transportation off the ship.”
And that was it. She didn’t wish me luck or say goodbye, and I had no real possessions to take with me, so I just walked away, following the red lights along the white hallways. It was noisier down here, the clanking and grinding of metal more apparent.
The air grew damper as I moved forward, and the tang of salt prickled my nose. I breathed it deep into my lungs, surprised by the light floral scent accompanying it. Sunshine streamed through an open door in front of me, and for a moment it almost seemed that I could just run away. Run away and hide myself somewhere on this unfamiliar planet.
Then a black-clad man stepped from the shadows. “Wrist.”
With obedience long learned, I held my hand out without question.
He moved my ident aside and scanned me. “Earthling 7674TES8, a boat is waiting to transport you to your destination.” That was all he said as he waved me through the door. No goodbye or good luck from this one, either. No reference to a new home or a new job. I was simply cargo he was moving. A shipment.
I sucked in a breath, finding my courage in the fact I’d travelled so far. I had survived, and I was doing it for Mom. Because I was here, she’d live.
Before I left Earth, I’d sat by her bed reading all the research I could about Hydronia. Grainy images from my ident band beamed onto the white wall in her small room. Mom had slept the whole time, but I’d described as much as I could. I read aloud as much of the history as I could manage before my eyes burned like they might jump out of my head and run away if I made them look at the flickering text any longer.
But I’d returned many times to one image in particular because of the calm serenity of it. It was a giant seascape, with water stretching for miles. Islands were dotted across it, the land masses growing smaller as they stretched out into the distance.
It was so different from the heat baked deserts here on Earth. We only had one ocean left, and The Glass City claimed all the water for itself. It was built right along the edge of the remaining sea, obscuring the view of any desert dwellers who might even try to look upon the wondrous sight. It even used technology to funnel the cooler air between the buildings of The Glass City.
I’d never seen anything so natural and beautiful as a sea that covered most of a planet. It reversed everything I understood about existence. Maybe a world full of this much beauty wouldn’t be so bad.
I stepped from the Terran spaceship and onto a wooden staircase that led to a wooden dock, slowly bobbing up and down on the gently rolling water. A boat waited at one end of the dock and I held the rail as I started to walk down the steps. The combination of the fans from the ship and the wind of this plant blew my hair across my face and I had to push it out of my eyes as I walked.
I climbed aboard the small boat, and a man at the front started the engine. Soon we were skimming across the surface of the water, pushing aside large, blooming flowers as we sped along. I gripped the armrest to my left and flattened my palm on the seat at my right, bracing myself against the movement.
The driver didn’t speak, and neither did I. He scared me a little. He stood almost a foot taller than me, and his skin shimmered with green scales when he moved.
I watched over the side of the boat as islands dense with lush vegetation passed by. I could make out houses on some of them, and other buildings, but I didn’t know what any of them were called. From time to time, I glanced down, noting the shapes swimming beneath us, and I shuddered. It seemed bottomless, and I didn’t want to fall in. I’d either drown or become a meal for one of the moving shapes.
Idly I wondered where The King lived. One section of my research had mentioned that each island functioned pretty much independently, but the whole planet was ruled over by one man. The King. The whole thing seemed rather primitive to me, but then again I didn’t come from anywhere better.
The boat began a wide, arcing curve and I clung on tighter. Then the motor quieted, and we slowed until we chugged to another dock. This one was made of stone, the rocks surrounding it looking as if they’d been on the planet even before the ocean. I touched one of the weather-worn surfaces as I climbed from the boat, and it warmed my palm.
A wheeled vehicle waited at the end of the jetty, and I looked about for a person or a sign for what to do. The boat driver didn’t say anything as he fastened the boat to the dock, and the driver of the vehicle remained inside, his face only in profile. I approached the vehicle slowly and opened the back door. The fresh smell of leather rushed from the interior and I slid inside.
I watched through the windows as we rolled down winding roads. So much blue and green! The lush foliage really provided a stark comparison to the sand and dry dust of Earth.
We passed between a pair of stone pillars, and I looked ahead. A huge house stood in front of us, and I blinked. It was bigger than any of the homes I’d cleaned in The Glass City—even for my wealthiest clients. For a moment, a pang of homesickness for the familiar world I’d left behind gripped me.
Large steps led up to a raised landing outside the house, and the vehicle drew to a stop at the bottom of the staircase. A man and two children stood at the top of the steps, and I looked away, sucking in a breath. This was really the final step. Once I left this vehicle I began my ten years of servitude. All for you, Mama.
My hands shook and my nerves jangled. I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to speak. The house itself was massive. Made of this planet’s version of red brick and stretching at least three stories. Peaks and turrets marked the roofline, reminding me of gothic castles Mom had told me long-forgotten stories about. They always seemed to feature a princess, magic, and animals that talked, and everyone in them lived happily ever after, whether they were rich or poor. Taking one final breath, I opened the door and stepped out.
I took a tentative step forward before somehow carrying myself smoothly up the remainder of the stairs. When I reached the top where my new family stood, I stopped.
My ident hadn’t provided any indication of my employer’s height, and holy shit, he was huge. He towered at least a foot over me, and he was incredible to look at—like the gods themselves had crafted him, collaborating to create the work of art before me. Power radiated from him. He didn’t smile or lift a hand in greeting, and his red eyes burned cold, chilling me.
Not wanting to light the spark in his eyes, I moved my eyes to the two children. Jari and Vike, obviously. Their eyes shone with curiosity.
Then I looked at their father again, and I opened my mouth to say something, only no sound came out.
“I’m Izon Hurric, King of Hydronia,” he stated simply, his voice deep and low. My mouth snapped shut. I’d been purchased by The King.
3
Izon
The ridiculously petite human watched me, her eyes widening, her cheeks pink. She hadn’t looked this small aboard the Terran Program ship somehow. Vike would need to be careful or he’d break her.
She stood completely still, looking like she was deciding whether to walk closer to us or run away. I wouldn’t have blamed her for the latter. She’d left her own planet, travelled through space into the unknown, and we were the first Hy
dronians she’d really seen.
I waited a moment for her color to return to what I thought might be more usual for her, and for her posture to relax. Then I spoke again.
“This is my firstborn, my daughter Jari. She’s eleven.” Then I lifted my other hand, indicating Vike. “And this is Vike. He’s my first son, and he’s four. Luka is seven months old, and he’s currently asleep in the house.” I looked at Jari expectantly.
She bobbed a greeting to their new nanny, and I smiled. The human should have curtsied to Jari, but I’d let her error pass.
“Pleased to meet you. We hope you had a good journey?” Jari made the inquiry like the seasoned diplomat she was fast becoming. Before the human could respond, “Hello!” Vike spoke a little too loudly, and I gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “We’re glad you could come here to be with us.”
The human colored again. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses…” She dropped into a low curtsey. The movement seemed unnatural for her, but the acknowledgement of my family’s station still sent a hot dart of pleasure through me.
Maybe she’d fit in quicker than I’d hoped. She smiled, and it lit her whole face. Her eyes—a curious color I believed the humans termed ‘hazel’—shone, and the heart I’d believed dead in my chest thrummed to life. The smile gave her small indentations in her cheeks, and I found myself cataloguing her differences to Lyra. Her shock of curly, sand-colored hair looked soft, and the sun sparkled through the strands.
She walked closer, focused only on my children, and I yearned for her to look at me. I tried to will it, even. Her smile widened, and I stifled a groan as my body reacted to her presence.
“My name’s Tessa,” she murmured, lowering herself to the children’s height. She didn’t have to move too far. “And I hope we can get to know each other a lot better.”
