Dark Future

by KC Klein

  “What the—?” He lay still, shaking his head, trying to clear the effects of my ninja move he’d shown me earlier.

  “I would ask you the same question.” I jumped up and threw an extra-long shirt on, not wanting to lose a minute of his stunned reaction. “I mean, what exactly did you think you were doing?”

  “Damn . . .” He rubbed his head. “I know it’s been awhile, but I didn’t think I was that out of practice.” He threw himself back on the bed and scrubbed his hands over his eyes.

  So the ruthless man did have a sense of humor after all. Unfortunately, I was in no mood to entertain it.

  “You know what I meant,” I said crossly, putting on my pants and fumbling with the drawstring.

  “Hey,” he said, rolling onto his side and popping his head on one hand. “You were the one who issued the invitation, not me.” With arched brows his face was a sham of innocence.

  My mouth flew open. “Issued a . . . I was asleep!”

  “Yes, but in my bed.” His half grin was in full force and showed a whisper of a dimple.

  I stared at him. Was that really his argument? “Since when did sleeping in that bed become an open invitation for molestation?”

  “Molestation!” he sputtered. “Damn, I really am out of practice.” He flipped onto his back with a heavy sigh. “How about helping a poor solider out, honey, and giving me a one-on-one coaching session?” His head tilted to one side, his fervid gaze cloaked behind deceptively long eyelashes.

  My rolling eyes must’ve said it all as far as his coaching session went. In his dreams.

  ConRad sat up in bed and with a guileless expression on his face. “Woman, if you’re in my bed during my hours of use, then that’s an open invitation as far as I am concerned.”

  Annoyance didn’t begin to touch what I was feeling. Considering I was maneuvered into bed by him and had a sleepless night due to hishas t> previous ministrations.

  “Let me tell you something, Commander. If I ever issue an invitation for sex with you, you’ll know it. There’ll be no need to assume, because it will be so obvious that even someone of your intelligence could grasp the concept. And by the way, if there’s ever going to be a chance of that invitation being issued, then I suggest you never call me woman again.”

  I grabbed my boots and slammed out the door. I sulked down the hall and was sure I could be heard doors away, forsaking men and naps for a long time to come.

  I turned the corner and headed in the direction of the infirmary. Gnarled fingers reached out from a darkened doorway and clasped my wrist. For such a fragile hand, the strength it exerted was enough to stop me mid-stride. Startled, I glanced up and started to pull away, but instead was dragged into the shadows. A hand quickly covered my mouth.

  “Shh . . . don’t scream.” I recognized Aura’s voice. My eyes quickly adjusted, taking in her long gray hair and dingy old robes that hung from her shoulders as if from a wire hanger. I nodded my consent, and she lowered her palm. “I’ve heard you want to make your way back to your time. If you still do, then meet me at the command center at midnight tonight.”

  “But . . .”

  Aura shook her head. “No time. Just know the journey will be dangerous. I cannot guarantee your safety, but I can get you through the tunnel and will escort you to where you came through to Dark Planet. After that you are on your own.” She glanced in the dark behind her. “My guards will be frantic; I must go.” She turned to leave down a poorly lit side tunnel, one I’d missed previously.

  I couldn’t leave well enough alone. “But . . . why?”

  She paused, her hand resting on the ragged rock. Her head bowed to the floor, then rose slightly. “You gave my daughter a fighting chance at life. For that I am grateful.”

  “Who? What . . . you mean Sari? But you’re a goddess. I thought relationships were forbidden?”

  Her profile caught the light as she glanced toward me. A glimmer of a smile hovered around her mouth. “You’re not the only one who breaks rules.” With a swish of robe she disappeared into the mountain.

  By the time I made it to the infirmary my palms were sweaty, and the pile of snakes that w snjusas my stomach was awake and snapping. This was what I wanted, right? My chance to leave. Then why did I suddenly feel ill at the thought of going back to my quaint patio-home and Sleep Number bed?

  My conscience couldn’t have picked a worse time to rear its ugly head. I pushed through the doors of the infirmary, and with one look at Quinn’s face, I knew the snowball of my life had just picked up speed, going downhill.

  From habit my eyes scanned Zimm, his face expressionless and void, but otherwise healthy. I took a breath for courage and turned to Sari. I could tell from where I stood she was already dead.

  I dragged my feet to her bedside and gazed down at her peaceful features. Death had a way of easing away years, erasing pain and stress, even from one so young. I stroked her forehead—cold and smooth. Just a body, a vessel, her life force already gone. She was so young, but I’d realized long ago that death had no prejudice, being an equal opportunity employer.

  “ConRad needs to be told,” Quinn whispered from across the room. I nodded. The knowledge of the conversation I needed to have with ConRad came with a pitted feeling in my belly. Losing a patient was always piggybacked with a sense of failure, but I felt more than personal guilt. I wasn’t sure what the consequences of losing a goddess were, but I didn’t want to find out.

  Quinn sat next to Zimm, she cupped his hands in hers and slowly raised them both to cover her face and wept. Zimm’s eyes shuttered and looked away as if the display of grief was too much. Even mourning in this place seemed subdued. No loud screaming, no wailing, just stoic acceptance.

  I sighed, heavy and long. I’d never had to tell a family about a loved one’s death. An intern wouldn’t be trusted with such a task, but this time there was no one else. Fear constricted in my heart and then dropped lower. I’m sure the duty was one doctors never relished, but then again, they had never been told their life could be sacrificed in return.

  Sure, the threat to my life was nerve wracking, but deep in my heart I knew ConRad wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Who was stronger than the Commander in Chief of the compound? No crusty old Elders could get past him. There was something else though, something I was missing. I let my mind drift over the previous events when Zimm was brought to me. What had ConRad said? “Zimmion’s life doesn’t matter anyways.” If his life didn’t matter, then why bring him in to get medical attention in the first place? Why not let him die on the front lines? Or did his life only matter if the goddess survived?

  I pulled the sheet over Sari’s face, but stopped mid-motion. No, that was ridiculous, simply barbaric.

  I had to think. What was Zimm’s role before he was injured? What was his position in connection with the goddess?

  Oh my God. My stomach cramped. I doubled over and shot a glance at Zimm. His face was a complete mask of acceptance. He knew. Of course, he knew. Everyone did except me, the only idiot who didn’t put it together. Zimm was the defender of the goddess Sari. He’d sworn to protect her with his life.

  My vision blurred. The only sound was the quiet whimpering of Quinn. Her tears weren’t for Sari; this place was too cold for weeping over a mere acquaintance. It was for Zimm that her heart broke.

  I won’t believe it. I won’t believe it. My mantra broke my frozen stance. I pushed the swinging doors open and ran down the hall. Tears streamed from my face. I won’t believe it. Even if you pushed aside all human decency, putting to death a healthy and trained solider was a complete waste of resources. There had to be a place for logic in this society, if not for compassion.

  I halted in front of ConRad’s quarters. My breath came in short gasps—palms slick with sweat. I stood motionless, unable to bring myself to open the door. The simple act of turning the knob would start a domino effect of events spiraling out of my control.

  I planted my hands on either side of the door jam
and leaned my forehead on the metal door. What had I done? Did I just produce a healthy human sacrifice to satisfy the bloodlust of this society? A wave of nausea swept over me. I turned and threw up.

  My retching did what I lacked the courage to do. The door was thrown open.

  ConRad stood in full commander mode—stoic and deadpanned. We froze and stared at each other—me doubled over and gasping, him with hardened resolve. I saw his emotions flash in his eyes before I could even speak. It was all there; the decision was made.

  I whipped my head back and forth, eyes pleading. He said nothing, just pushed me aside and headed toward the infirmary.

  I stumbled after him, wiping away the tears and snot with the back of my arm.

  “ConRad please.” I begged. I begged.

  His strides were long, his legs eating up the distance. ConRad slammed open the infirmary door and stood stock-still, assessing. ConRadessro" had seen the face of death a million times, so I couldn’t understand his sudden hesitation. I peered around his massive frame. Then I saw it myself. Hope along with blood drained from my body. I grasped the door frame as my knees weakened, and I slowly folded to the floor.

  Zimm and Quinn were locked in a passionate, sorrowful embrace. Their mouths open and consuming, hands clutching and grasping as if trying to burn a brand that stayed even after death. Completely in their own world, they were oblivious to us, oblivious to the fact that they were committing the ultimate sin. A relationship of any kind with a goddess was against the rules. But kissing one went beyond comprehension.

  Doing my ER rotation in some of the most debased places leaves you privy to the whole range of human emotions. A mother’s deep sorrow for the loss of her child. A father’s rage at a drunk driver. A gangbanger’s thirst for vengeance after a “duty kill.” But as I glanced toward ConRad, I’d never seen a rage so powerful, yet calm and terrifying in its ability. Shards of ice coursed through my veins, chilling my blood. I saw death in ConRad’s eyes.

  I would witness a murder.

  ConRad roared. The sound vibrated in my bones. He charged toward Zimm and Quinn. Cots and chairs flew out of his way. Zimm pushed Quinn behind him, barely having enough time to raise his arm in defense. ConRad descended on him like the Archangel armed with God’s vengeance. He grabbed Zimm by his shirt and threw him. Zimm crashed into the cabinet across the room, and fell to the floor with a thud. The cabinet door hung precariously. Then ConRad was on him like he’d never left. He picked him up and threw him against the corner wall.

  Crazy burned in ConRad’s eyes. The violence and lack of control terrified me. When ConRad’s hands went around Zimm’s throat, I knew Zimm had drawn his last breath.

  Thoughts of self-preservation flooded my mind. I saw myself turning and walking right out the door. I’d hide until midnight and crawl my way back home through the hole in the mountain. I would take my chances with Aura and the aliens.

  God had forsaken this place and so could I. Instead, I pushed myself to my feet and walked straight into the turbulent storm.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My fingers trembled as I placed a restraining hand on ConRad’s forearm. “Please ConRad, stop.” My voice broke. I didn’t know if it was enough. If I was enough.

  Time was measured in heartbeats. Then ConRad came back. The crazed anger retreated like a low tide leaving clean sand in its wake. ConRad was himself again—strong, emotionless, detached ConRad, and I’d never been so grateful.

  His fingers pried loose from Zimm’s throat. Zimm buckled to the floor gasping and choking, his face beet red.

  I stayed glued to ConRad’s side, infusing sanity through my touch. He blinked and took in his surroundings. If he was surprised that the infirmary was filled with soldiers who’d come in to investigate the commotion, he didn’t show it.

  His gaze found Zimm’s. “Was it not enough that your own life is forfeit? Did you have to take Quinn along with you?” ConRad said.

  The blood trickling from the corner of Zimm’s eyes showed an eerie orange in the copper lighting. He shook his head and tried to massage away the marks left behind by ConRad’s fingers. “Her goddess status will protect her.”

  “Are you sure about that? Hard to keep an eye on her from the grave. Take him away,” ConRad said. “Throw him in the cell to await the penalty.”

  Zimm was pulled up by his arms, hands tied behind his back. His head hung low as if resigned to his fate as two burly men dragged him out the door.

  “Same with her.” He looked directly at Quinn. “She broke the goddess code. She will suffer the same.”

  Panic sliced though me. “ConRad no, please, she’s just a child.” Though in that moment she seemed to have catapulted into adulthood.

  His gaze whipped around and pinned me as effectively as his hand that found itself clamped around my arm.

  “Enough,” he growled, and pulled me aside as they took Quinn away. Within minutes we were alone, and within a second of that he pushed me against the wall. He placed his mouth hard against my ear, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve done. It didn’t escape my notice that Zimmion was quite active and vital, when just a few days ago he was on death’s door. I know you gave him the microbiotics, and I hold you partially responsible for this relationship. You saw what was going on and did nothing to stop the crime.”

  A tremble went through me at his words. How many transgressions were to be piled upon my head?

  ad?siz

  ConRad slid his forehead to mine, his breathing harsh. “You have no idea what you’ve done. The Elders will be notified. There’ll be an investigation and people will be put to death. I just don’t know if you’ll be one of them.”

  Fear chilled my blood. I knew he’d be angry, but I didn’t expect this.

  “But . . . but you promised you would protect me.” I’d held on to his promise the whole time during the committing of my crime. Somehow I believed ConRad would make it all right.

  “This . . . this is beyond me now. Even if I wanted to, Kris, I couldn’t. You knew the consequences and deliberately disobeyed me.” His hands wrapped around both of my arms and shook. Fury rolled off of him and crashed around me like waves. “You lied to me. What were you thinking? Even I can’t go against the Elders.”

  I blinked hard, pushing back the tears I knew shined in my eyes.

  A small crack broke through the ice-hardness of his face. “What do you expect me to do? To look the other way as Quinn and Zimm flaunt their relationship? If I break, if I become weak, then I lose the respect of my whole command. My duty is toward Earth. The human race couldn’t survive without us.”

  He released me and I stumbled, less from force and more from weakened knees. He headed for the door, but then turned and settled his deadeye stare on me. “I can’t afford to be weak. From now on Kris, for both our sakes, call me Commander.”

  The infirmary doors swung in his absence. A mocking wave goodbye to my broken life.

  Like burning arrows, his words found their mark and pierced my heart. I’d been hurled through time and deposited on a foreign planet. I’d been chased by aliens, imprisoned, and held at gunpoint. I’d been treated like a spy and forced into mind-retrieval, but through it all I’d never been so scared and alone as I was now. In the back of my mind I’d known ConRad was always there, despite everything. ConRad had made me believe he’d be willing to die to protect me.

  Self-delusion was a luxury I’d given up since my arrival. I knew his protection wasn’t because of some undying love he harbored for me. It was just his makeup. He took his claim on me seriously. He couldn’t live with himself if he did anything less. He was my protection in this hostile world, and I’d severed the tenuous ties. Now he was gone.

  I was alone in a world I didn’t understand. The threat to my life had crystallized into hard reality. Sinking to the floor, I drew my knees into my chest. What had I done? My self-confidence had shattered. I didn’t trust myself to make the right decisions. In fact, I�
�d made things worse. Zimm and Quinn would be sentenced to death, and I’d be right behind them.

  Why was I here? Why be sent to a place that was ruled by absolutism and then die by capital punishment? The rhythmic thudding of my head against the wall didn’t provide an answer. Was there something blatantly obvious I was missing? My head fell in defeat against my folded arms.

  Images flashed like a bad movie trailer. Her presence right after my interrogation, a coveted key to the microbiotics for my wound, her plea for Zimm before his battered and war-torn body showed up in my infirmary. Then I knew. Clarity crashed in like a drunk ex-lover—unwanted, but hard to ignore. My head popped up and my gaze took in nothing of the vacant, gray room. She had the answers. Curse her lying mouth, but she had the answers all along.

  A bitter taste of irony bit my tongue. I laughed. God’s grace worked even in this forsaken place. Those bars of steel that imprisoned Quinn were the same thing that kept her protected from me.

  Because I was going to rip the answers from her bare throat.

  My determination prevailed in my quest to access Quinn. The word was out that ConRad had withheld his protection from me. My status in the compound dropped like a supermodel who’d fallen off her diet. If previously I had too many takers to count, now I was a leper with a death sentence on my head. In the end I played Quinn’s goddess card and lied. I convinced the soldiers guarding her cell she needed medical attention, and if she died, it wouldn’t take much to load another round of bullets and use them both as target practice.

  Of course, there was absolutely no hope in seeing Zimm.

  My anger dissipated at my first sight of Quinn. She sat cross-legged on the floor, staring blankly into space. Her long blonde hair lacked shine, forming a dull curtain that obscured her eyes. Her skin had lost the rosiness of youth and lay flat, hollowing her cheeks. Quinn had never donned the traditional white robes, since she never declared herself a full goddess. But even her standard-issue military uniform was too large, swallowing up her petite frame. Uncertainty had me biting my lip. Maybe I’d mistaken her age after all. I’d originally thought she was around seventeen, but middle-age seemed to have crept up with a vengeance.