by Tracy Lauren
“Merkeem, this is V—my traveling companion,” Dax introduces. I’m pleased he actually remembered to introduce me this time. “V, this is Merkeem. An old friend of mine from my time in the UPC.”
“You make our friendship sound so ordinary,” Merkeem goads Dax mischievously. “I distinctly recall the day we met. I found you wandering the deserts of Veil with nothing but an expended parachute.”
“That may be true, but I do believe we were both enlisted at the time, were we not?” Dax says, trying to divert the direction of the conversation.
“Yes, but the full story is much more interesting than just that,” Merkeem insists.
“It may be, but it does not necessarily present me in a very favorable light,” Dax says pointedly, inclining his head in my direction.
“I see. You do not wish to be embarrassed in front of—” Merkeem doesn’t finish, but continues to study me with his eyes.
“V,” Dax reminds him.
Merkeem lowers his voice and crowds near Dax, “This must be some game or a ruse? All of Quar is talking about the goddess you travel with. Surely this female is not truly what they say she is?”
All eyes are on me. The tension in the room suddenly makes the silence feel that much more intense. No one speaks, and all I can hear is the distant whirr of engines and the sound of an old chain hanging from the ceiling, slowly creaking in the breeze.
“You will have to judge for yourself, Merkeem,” Dax tells him. “I know I already have. Now my brother. Where is my ship?”
Merkeem hesitates for a second, eyes darting to me, before slapping Dax on the shoulder and turning to lead him to the rear of the hangar. I follow behind and keep my pace quick, feeling a little nervous with all the alien eyes on me. At the back of the room Merkeem grabs the edge of a large sheet draped over a ship and yanks it, exposing the metallic beauty beneath.
“You have outdone yourself, Merkeem, she looks immaculate. You have taken good care of her,” Dax commends his friend.
“How many ships do you have?” I ask Dax, approaching the machine to run my hand along the smooth hull. It is much smaller than the ship we stole from the impound lot on Lock VI, probably only large enough for two passengers. Clearly, based on the aerodynamics of the thing, it was built for speed.
“Only about half a dozen or so,” Dax replies. “But this is one of my best,” he says with twinkling eyes and a bright smile. “Would you like to take her for a test run?”
A slow smile spreads across my lips, the answer is definitely yes. Just then the hum of distant engines transforms into a roar and the dust flying through the air intensifies. Outside the hangar door, three small ships pull in and their doors decompress, popping open. The pilots emerge. One of them catches my attention before she even has the chance to fully disembark. Zair.
When her eyes gaze across the hangar I immediately see when she spots Dax. Her whole demeanor changes and she wastes no time in stalking him like she’s the predator and he’s the prey. She cuts past the alien men still crowding the entrance of the hangar, making a beeline for my man…or, I mean, my traveling companion.
“Dax!” she coos, reaching for him, but Dax pulls me closer to him at the last second, blocking her hug.
“Zair, nice to see you again,” he tells her politely. “You remember V,” he says, indicating me.
“No. I don’t,” she replies flatly. “Are you getting ready to take your ship out? I’d love to go for a ride.”
“I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want, Zair,” Merkeem tells her.
“Shut it, Merk. I was not asking you,” she says coarsely before changing her tone back to the soft coo she was directing at Dax a moment ago. “I was asking Dax. Or I can take you out in my ship, Dax. I know how you love to see a female at the helm.”
Now, I’ve never been in a fight before, but I feel pretty damn close to swinging on this tramp right about now.
“I am not interested, Zair. V is actually going to take me out on a run,” he informs her, and Zair breaks into peals of laughter.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought that was a joke!” she says after no one else joins her laughter.
This alien bitch…she has her mean girl meter turned up high. Another day, another time, I wouldn’t have let her get under my skin. But these days, I’m just looking for something to take my aggression out on. And I’m schooled in this kind of shit. Growing up, I’ve had years of this kind of treatment. I have 10,000 perfect comebacks filed away in my back pocket. I could slap one so hard at Zair right now, she wouldn’t know what hit her. Or…I could just slap her.
Dax steps protectively in front of me and addresses Zair. “V is a natural pilot. I have brought her to Quar to help her refine those skills,” Dax says firmly.
“Ah, that makes more sense. She is paying you to teach her to fly! We get that sometimes here, a rich girl with fantasies of being a pilot.”
Dax’s shoulders roll back and his tail flicks in agitation like a cat’s. “I think we are done talking, Zair,” he tells her curtly.
“Oh, Dax! I am only teasing, where has your sense of humor gone?” she purrs, reaching for him again.
Finally, something inside me snaps. My grandma always taught me to take the high road, to not engage with bullies (and I’ve crossed paths with many in my time). I always followed that advice, but not today. I’m sorry, but I’ve been abducted by aliens, lost everything familiar to me that I hold dear, I live under the constant fear that death is waiting around every corner to claim my sorry ass, and now some bitch wants to stroll up talking shit like I’m not standing right here listening—blatantly flirting with my…my…Dax.
I cut around Dax, and something about my expression must convey my seething rage because her eyes go wide. “Look, bitch, I’m not interested in hearing your condescending catty diatribe, but if you’re going to keep talking, you better be brave enough to say that shit to me and not to my man.”
She blinks for a second, taking in my words before she scoffs. “And just what are you going to do about it?”
“Do you really want me to show you?” I ask her, and when I say I snapped I really mean that something inside me snapped, because I don’t just want to verbally tear this woman apart. I want to physically tear her apart. I scan the nearby work tables for something harder than my fist that I can hit her with. I have so much rage inside me right now just begging to come out. All I need is a reason. I feel Dax’s hand find my arm, holding me in my place.
“That sounds like a challenge,” comes a familiar voice. Everyone’s eyes cut to the entrance of the hangar, and there stands The Oscillion and his guards. He looks oddly out of place here in the daylight, about as natural as any vampire would look in the desert. The men at the front of the hangar all murmur and nod their approval.
“What sort of challenge are you talking about? Don’t get me wrong, Oscillion, I love to win, but I can’t think of anything that would be a fair match,” Zair calls to him.
“It is lucky that V does not fight fair then,” Dax puts in. “Let’s keep it simple. A race in the canyons, first one out wins.”
“I know these canyons like the back of my hand, Dax, but if you want me to rake your female across the coals I’ll be more than happy to,” Zair says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” I tell her.
“I suppose I should begin collecting bets,” The Oscillion says with a clap of his hands.
“One condition!” Dax demands. “I will ride with V.”
“Are you sure you do not plan to fly for her?” Zair questions skeptically.
“She does not need me to fly for her. But she has never been in a ship like this, she will need training.”
“I’ll consider it a fair handicap considering our Zair is so familiar with the courses,” The Oscillion chimes in, agreeing to Dax’s terms.
“Fine,” Zair says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get this over. Like I need to prove I’m a better pilo
t than this sad creature,” she scoffs under her breath.
“Fire up the ship, Merkeem,” Dax tells his friend.
I watch Zair turn and stride to her own ship. I want to chase after the cocky alien woman, tackle her and rub her face in the sand until she cries out for mercy, but instead I climb in Dax’s ship and try to think about flying. For some reason I’m not worried about losing. I figure if I do lose I can still tackle her and rub her face in the sand.
Dax jumps into the tiny cockpit behind me. It is such a small space with the two of us in here, I have to squeeze between his legs. We sit so close that I can practically feel the excitement radiating off of him. It helps melt away some of my rage.
“This is exhilarating! Is it not?” he asks, giving me a playful headbutt to the back of my head. I rub the spot he collided with, grateful he isn’t giving me a ‘it isn’t about winning or losing’ speech, because we all know the point of those are to prepare people for losing.
As Merkeem brings the hatch down I catch a glimpse of The Oscillion watching me with a smile spread across his alien lips. It’s one of those challenging looks I remember so clearly from last night. A look that makes me feel like he’s judging me. He’s certainly taking bets against me right now and likely making bets against me. My jaw tightens and I steel my resolve. I’m going to beat this bitch one way or another. I’m going to show her she can’t step on my toes and prove to The Oscillion that he doesn’t know me. That when it comes to me, he’s wrong. They all are.
Dax reaches around to point at the controls, but does not attempt to touch anything. “This one is acceleration, here to decelerate, the steering mechanism,” he points. “It is all very similar to what you have flown before, but this ship is smaller, faster, and responds to the lightest of touches. Try not to hug the canyon walls, always look at the path ahead of you. Be aware, there are obstacles, some natural, some made for the course. Those that were made for the course are derelict and dangerous. Stay clear of them. Is everything clear?”
I nod, not allowing myself to speak. I’m this weird flurry of emotions: jealousy, rage, excitement. My desire to take all these emotions out on Zair feels a little wrong, a little out of character and misplaced, but actually opening up those emotional floodgates is intoxicating. I want them to open and I don’t give a damn who gets washed away in the process. That probably makes me a bad person, but I think I’ve already come to terms with that reality. I am bad, so I might as well just let it flow.
“Woman,” Dax says, garnering my attention. I lean back against his chest and look up at him. “How do you feel?” he asks, true concern lacing his voice. He’s such an angel, I think to myself…an angel in all this hell, stuck with a devil like me.
I search his face and give him the only answer I feel comfortable sharing. It’s the truth, but only part of it. “Excited,” I say, looking into his eyes. I don’t know why, but my voice trembles when I speak. These feelings are just so unfamiliar to me. So overwhelming. One of those easy smiles lights up Dax’s features and he growls low in his throat. It’s so sexy, so animalistic…it really resonates with me in this moment. I feel something primal waking inside of me. My breath hitches, but our connection breaks when Zair’s ship roars to life and she does a few donuts in front of the hanger to show off.
“Which way?” I ask, eager to get this started.
“Straight ahead, a fissure will open up leading down into the canyon. The race will start once everyone is on the canyon floor.”
“Let’s do this,” I say and pull back the controls to accelerate.
Zair and I lead the pack and everyone from the hangar jumps in one type of ship or another to go watch the action up close. I test the controls on the way over, getting a feel for their sensitivity. I swerve and speed up, but I don’t bother testing the deceleration. I don’t anticipate that being a skill I’ll need. Sooner than I think, I see the fissure Dax was talking about and one by one our ships all drop down inside. The canyon is so deep that the walls cast a shadow on the entire rift, as far as the eye can see.
“Line up there.” Dax points ahead of us where Zair’s ship hovers parallel to a massive boulder. I notice all the other ships continuing on.
“Where’s everyone going?” I ask.
“They are going to set up watch points. There is a shared monitoring system and this will allow everyone to see the entire race.”
I nod.
“Does that make you nervous?” Dax asks.
“Do I look nervous?” I question, peering over my shoulder at him.
“No…no, you do not,” he answers slowly, and his smile does nothing to hide the sharpness of his fangs. His fangs that a few weeks ago would have left me in terror at the mere sight of, but now I feel distinctly attracted to them…the viciousness they symbolize paired with the warmth of his smile. I want him to sink those teeth into me, I want him to devour me.
“These lights on the console here,” he says, focusing my attention on the task at hand. “We are linking to the monitoring system,” he explains. Three lights shine bright and then the one on the end starts blinking. Then the middle one.
“After the last one blinks they will all flash solid again, that is when you go.”
“Got it,” I say. My heart pounds. I look down at the lights and mentally open up those flood gates. I think of the others that I left behind, of the crazy screaming feral hamster women on the primitive planet Dax took me to. I think of slipping from Dax’s grip and floating wildly down that river, heading for a waterfall. I think of all the times I ran away because I was afraid to face the horrors of my new life, and I feel all the hatred I have for myself for being so afraid to begin with. I take in my new reality. I’m still terrified, but I’m angry too. I still feel like death is lurking around every corner, but I’m not going to let him take me. The lights become solid again. Let him take Zair instead, I think callously, and I gun it, swerving towards Zair’s ship as I do.
I cut her off and I can see from the corner of my eye that she falters for a split second before she recovers, but I’m already leaving her in the dust. I think about my first time flying, when Dax was lying unconscious on the floor and I wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive. I remember flying through that storm of comet debris and scrambling to do whatever I could to make it out alive and I speed up. Rocks zoom past us and the canyon walls look like a blur. I see Zair’s ship coming up next to mine and I swing towards her, but instead of slowing this time she dodges me. Vaguely I register the sound of Dax laughing and I feel his clawed hands slip around my waist. Goosebumps run up and down my arms. I see a curve in the canyon fast approaching and I lean into it, continuing to squeeze Zair out.
“Do not hug the walls!” Dax reminds me, but I’m too caught up in keeping Zair behind me.
We round a section of the arching wall and an outcropping grazes part of our ship. We bounce wildly in response, but I keep my grip firm on the controls. Zair takes the opportunity to steal the lead. I grit my teeth when I see the tail end of her ship. This is not the view I want. I speed up.
“The old UPC obstacles are coming up soon, V, keep clear of them,” Dax reminds me.
Just as he says it I see a looming metal hoop jutting out from the side of the canyon. Zair swoops down to avoid it and I swoop upwards. For a moment we are side by side again, before she darts forward. But I am close on her tail. We pass another hoop, this one fallen and sticking up at a weird angle from the canyon floor. A third hoop is quick to follow.
“How close are we to the end?” I ask Dax.
“Just more than halfway,” he tells me. I don’t like the sound of that. I want to mop the floor with this woman, so I really, really, really need to get in front of her now. I swerve at her again, pressing her close to the canyon wall. We round a corner and I can see another hoop approaching on Zair’s side. I pressure her into it. She tries to swerve back at me, but I hold my ground, calling her bluff. At what seems like the last second, she slows and tries to slingshot around
me, but I anticipate the move and lurch Dax’s ship toward her again, now on the opposite side of the canyon.
“V! Be careful!” Dax warns, and I see a hanging hoop coming up. Instead of swerving at Zair, I speed up, she hurries to match my speed and that’s when I strike. I swerve again at the last second and actually manage to hit her ship. Dax and I wobble, but Zair’s ship spins violently out of control and then vanishes from our view. I gun it again. The lights on the console blink again and I take it to mean I’ve crossed the finish line.
“V! You must be more careful, you struck Zair’s ship back there,” Dax tells me.
“That was the plan,” I tell him icily.
“Turn around. Go back. We have to see if she is alright.”
“Fine,” I groan, slowing to a stop and doing a 180 to head back to see what became of the lovely Zair.
We spot her quickly enough, already outside of her smoking ship that lies lifelessly at the bottom of the canyon. I look down at her and laugh.
