Sold To The Babymaker (Kyrzon Breeding Auction Book 1)

by Luna Voss

  Sold to the Babymaker

  Luna Voss

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Author’s Note

  Also by Luna Voss

  Chapter One

  I can’t help but feel a little bit emotional as I pilot the hover-cart through the human settlement of New Sutter. I’ve lived here my entire life. But 24 hours from now, I’ll be leaving, likely never to return.

  Tomorrow is my Auction Day.

  “Easy there, Cleopatra,” says Thomas, sitting next to me in the passenger seat. “We’ll spill our payload if we take the corners too fast.”

  I slow down, but I’m still distracted. I’m thinking about how my life is about to change.

  Tomorrow, I will present myself at the auction house, where I will be sold to whichever Kyrzon warrior bids the highest price for me.

  I’ve known I was destined to be a Kyrzon Bride ever since my name came out of the lottery when I was 13. And as crazy as it might seem by Earth standards, this is a normal part of life for humans living on the Planet Kyrzon. It’s the price we pay for our safety.

  Life on Kyrzon is treacherous. Although similar to Earth in the important ways necessary to support human life, the environment is brutally hostile. All the other creatures here, from the terrifying, predatory wildlife, to the savage tribes of native Kyrzon warriors, seem to be stronger and far better equipped for life on this planet than we are.

  Our arrangement with the Kyrzon tribes goes back hundreds of years, to the beginning of the first human settlement. The Kyrzons are a fierce warrior race, similar to human males, only taller, stronger, and far more muscular. It is said that there are Kyrzon females, but they are uncommon, and no human I know has ever seen one. It is this shortage of Kyrzon women that led the first generations of humans to make a deal with the Kyrzons: one in every ten human females would be designated a Kyrzon Bride, to be sold at auction when she comes of age. In exchange, the Kyrzons guaranteed our safety. This arrangement has proved mutually beneficial, allowing them to maintain their species, and us humans to, well, survive, and form a society on this terrifying planet we now call home.

  That doesn’t mean life is easy. Here in New Sutter, continuing our existence as our population expands means constant work. Everyone has a job to do.

  Which is why I’m driving a hover-cart filled with grain to deposit in one of our silos, even though it’s the afternoon before my Auction Day.

  Even Kyrzon Brides have to chip in.

  I pull up next to the silo, and Thomas and I exit the vehicle.

  “Thanks,” says one of the silo workers. “We’ll take it from here.” The workers go about loading grain from the hover-cart into the silo.

  Thomas turns to me. “I was thinking you could help me with a test of the weapons system, and then after that we can call it a day. How does that sound?”

  I force a smile. “Sounds great.”

  Thomas is in his late fifties, with graying hair and kindly eyes. He took me under his wing after my parents were killed in a raptor attack, and he’s been teaching me since I was little how to operate the various forms of technology we have here in New Sutter. Testing the weapons system is usually my favorite job, and I know that’s why he suggested it. Today, though, it’s hard to muster my usual excitement.

  We walk together toward the large structure in the middle of the settlement, officially known as Fort Sutter. Usually, though, we just call it “the Ship”. That’s because it literally is a ship: an absolutely enormous spaceship, to be specific. The same one our ancestors used to travel here hundreds of years ago. The Ship was badly damaged in the crash-landing, and supposedly, it took over 100 years before we were even able to get the power back on. Now it acts as something of a community hub. We’ve been able to get some of the Ship’s systems back online, including utilities that allow us to generate power, as well as fabricate necessities such as clothing and tools.

  We’ve also been able to access the Ship’s laser cannon, the most powerful form of protection Fort Sutter has against external threats. It’s been decades since we’ve had to fire it in an emergency, but we still run a test every two weeks to make sure that it’s in working order. If anything dangerous ever makes it to the city center, it’s our last hope for survival.

  Thomas and I make our way through the Ship to the room that houses the weapons console, neither of us speaking. We both know this is our last time working together, and so far today, neither of us has addressed the subject. We both know it’s going to be a painful goodbye.

  “Booting up the cannon,” I tell him, taking my place in front of the weapons console.

  The computer screen comes to life and the interface begins to load. I watch it, waiting. Seconds pass.

  “Does it usually take this long to boot up?” I ask Thomas, frowning.

  “No, not usually. Let’s give it a few more seconds.”

  We keep waiting.

  “I think it’s frozen,” I say.

  “Okay,” he says. “Do you remember how to run a soft reset on the system?”

  “I think so. Give me a sec.”

  I try to recall the specific combination of inputs that resets the cannon.

  Thomas chimes in. “You hold down the safety, and then you press—”

  “The safety, the power, and the auto-target, right,” I remember, holding down the correct buttons and pedals.

  The computer screen goes black, and then starts to reboot. A minute later, the gun is back online.

  “Great,” says Thomas. He speaks into the radio communicator from his belt: “John Paul, this is Thomas in the weapons room. Prepare for a test firing.”

  “Roger that,” a grainy voice comes back. “Triggering the warning announcement now.”

  About a minute later, the voice returns: “Thomas, you’re good to go on the test firing.”

  “Confirmed,” says Thomas. “Firing now.”

  He nods at me. I enter targeting mode and aim the cannon directly upwards.

  “Firing,” I announce. I arm the cannon and shoot a red pulse of energy up into the sky.

  I step away from the console and face Thomas. “Well, it seemed like it fired correctly. Should we be worried about the error?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t think so. It’s done this before, and we’ve always been able to get it back online with a reset.”

  We both go quiet, and the silence is thick with the understanding that this is our goodbye. I look at his face, and see that his eyes are shiny with tears.

  “Promise me you’ll get in touch if you ever have the chance,” he grunts, barely looking at me.

  “I promise,” I say, my voice breaking.

  We hug.

  We’re both crying as we break apart. I turn to leave, but he puts his hand on my shoulder, this time looking me in the eyes.

/>   “Cleo, stay safe out there.”

  Chapter Two

  After my shift, I head down to the saloon to meet Julia, my best friend. At 19, she’s a year younger than me, which means her Auction Day isn’t for almost another year. We’ve been friends since we were kids in school together, bonding over the fact that both of us were Kyrzon Brides, and both of us were orphans.

  I see her standing outside the saloon as I approach. I understand why she doesn’t want to go in without me. The night before an Auction Day, it tends to fill up with visiting Kyrzons, which can be intimidating even for the bravest of humans.

  We hug. “How was your last day?” asks Julia.

  “Fine,” I say. “How’s work at the solar plant going?” I lose the conviction from my words even as I say them. This isn’t a day for small talk.

  Julia doesn’t bother to answer. She gives me a compassionate look, then takes my hand and leads me inside.

  “Come on,” she says, “we’ll take our drinks to go.”

  As expected, most of the customers in the saloon are Kyrzons. Their boisterous yelling and laughter fades slightly as we enter, and I can feel several sets of eyes following me. Julia and I do our best to ignore their predatory looks, walking with practiced determination to the bar, our eyes down, not making eye contact with anyone.

  “Hey, Cleo, Julia,” comes a familiar voice.

  It’s Ernie, the barman. “You both want the usual?”

  We both nod, and then watch as he goes about mixing pure alcohol distilled from Kyrzon sugarfruit with water and each of our preferred flavorings.

  “They sure are riled up tonight,” Ernie says to us, shaking his head as he hands us our drinks. “I hope it isn’t either of your Auction Days tomorrow.”

  Julia shoots him a glare. He immediately looks mortified. “Oh, fuck, is it really? I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m a big girl. Any word on what they’re so excited about?”

  “Well,” says Ernie, lowering his voice, “most of the warriors here are from Clan Broga. They’re the ones with blue paint on their faces. They’ve been at war with Clan Drokal for a long time. From what I’ve been able to piece together, it sounds like a tribe they’re allied with just did some kind of surprise attack. They’re saying that Chief Drokal is dead.”

  Julia and I look at each other, stunned. Chief Drokal has a reputation as one of the fiercest and most powerful of the Kyrzon chiefs. Taking him out of action would be an impressive feat, not to mention a huge change to the balance of Kyrzon power politics.

  “Have you been able to hear how they did it? How they killed him, I mean?” I ask, still struck by the news.

  “No,” says Ernie. “Hey, silver lining, at least you know Chief Drokal isn’t going to buy you.”

  Julia throws Ernie another glare.

  He shakes his head, looking cowed. “Okay, I’ll shut up now,” he says, slinking back behind the bar. “Cleo, I’ll miss having you around. Take care of yourself.”

  “Don’t you want us to pay for our drinks?” I call back to him.

  He shakes his head again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

  * * *

  “I’m never going to get rid of these last few credits,” I say to Julia as I walk down the street with her, fiddling with my credit chip. “I still have 3 credits left.”

  “That’s not a bad problem to have,” she says.

  “It is if the reason you don’t need credits anymore is that you’re being auctioned off to an alien war chief,” I snap.

  Julia goes quiet.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Where do you want to drink?”

  “Let’s go to our old hangout spot,” she suggests.

  I allow myself to crack a smile. I know exactly where she means.

  We head to Fort Sutter as the light fades. The Ship is on low-power mode now, the lifts only accessible to the elderly or disabled. We head up the stairs, past the residential decks, where both of us live, and up to the highest floor, which is supposed to be for maintenance.

  “Man, it feels like we haven’t gone up here together in forever,” I remark as we approach the hatch that leads to the roof access.

  “I’m glad we’re doing it tonight,” says Julia.

  I use the manual override to bypass the lock on the hatch, and the two of us climb the ladder to the roof. Keeping our balance carefully, we walk up to the top of the Ship.

  We reach the platform at the top, and sit down in our usual spot. We’re very high up. From here, we have an incredible view of New Sutter sprawling out around us, as well as the wilderness beyond the city walls, the alien forest dangerous and filled with life. We sit in silence together, sipping our drinks, watching the sunset.

  “The city has gotten so much bigger since we used to come up here,” says Julia. She points. “Look, didn’t the city walls used to stop there?”

  I follow her finger. “Could be. It’s hard to remember.”

  My eyes land on the Kyrzon camps just outside the city. I can see the lights of their tents, their inhabitants preparing for the auction tomorrow. I shiver.

  Every one of them is here for a chance to purchase me.

  “I got you something,” says Julia, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  I turn to her. “Oh?”

  Julia reaches into her bag and pulls out a pair of radio communicators. She hands one of them to me.

  “I thought, maybe if whoever buys you happens to live in one of the territories close to here, or if you ever happen to be passing by,” she says to me. “Or maybe, after my Auction Day, our husbands will live near each other, and maybe we can stay in touch.”

  I can’t help but smile. I’d be lost without Julia’s relentless positivity. I’m going to miss that.

  “Thanks,” I say, hugging her.

  We both know there’s something about Planet Kyrzon that interferes with long-range communication, making it very unlikely this plan will work over the distance we’re likely to be separated. But it’s something that gives me hope, and I appreciate that.

  “Let me give you my credit chip,” I say to Julia. “It’s not like I’ll have any use for it.”

  She shakes her head. “You keep it.” She looks like she’s fighting tears. “In case you ever come back.”

  We watch the sky in silence as the sunset fades and the stars come out. I’ve always loved the stars. They’re peaceful.

  “Which one of them do you think is Earth?” Julie asks after a while.

  I don’t answer. It’s basically a rhetorical question. I ask myself that same thing every time I look at the stars, but neither of us has any way of knowing. Almost all of the information that had been stored on the Ship was destroyed during the crash. Most of what we know of Earth comes from the “Earth Media Collection, Years 1500-2000,”, an archive of film, literature, and music from the planet our species used to call home. From that information, we’ve been able to determine that Earth had an atmosphere very similar to Kyrzon’s, with similar temperatures and the same length of days. We know that Earth had a very different set of plants and animals, and that the planet had a very long and complicated political history.

  We don’t know why we were sent here, or even how long it took to get here. Our ancestors who had contact with Earth are long dead, likely before the Ship even arrived. What we do know is that we were sent with dogs and farm animals preserved in stasis, with tools for farming and building structures, and with the technology to process raw materials and purify our own water. We were clearly intended to start a new life.

  We were given everything except the means to defend ourselves from this hostile world.

  “I think Earth is that one,” I say to Julia, pointing up at the sky.

  She laughs. “What, that one up there?”

  “Yep,” I say. “You know, the twinkly one.”

  “You sure it’s not that one?” she suggests, pointing somewhere
else. “That one looks a little bit twinkly, too.”

  We spend the rest of the night looking at the stars together, talking about life and the utter weirdness of growing up as Kyrzon Brides. Having Julia as a friend has meant the world to me. She’s one of the only people who really understands what it’s been like.

  Finally, our eyes start to shut, and our conversation peters out. We climb down from the roof, and I’m forced to say yet another difficult goodbye.

  I go home to my small apartment on one of the ship’s residential decks and flop down on my bed, breathing. I don’t have the energy to cry anymore. I’m just spent.

  Now I need to be strong.

  Chapter Three

  I wake up early the next morning, and I can’t go back to sleep. I find myself lying in bed, eyes open, my mind racing through all the possibilities of what’s going to happen to me today.

  I only have a vague idea of what to expect.

  Most humans, even Kyrzon Brides, know very little about the auction process. Those who do find out, well, they’ve been purchased by a Kyrzon warrior, and they are rarely, if ever, seen in Human Territory again.

  What kind of warrior will purchase me?

  Although I’ve spent the last several weeks doing my best to avoid thinking about the topic, now, the morning of my Auction Day, the subject is hard to ignore.

  I think about the warriors I saw in the saloon last night, drinking and laughing uproariously. They certainly seem like a culture that likes to have fun, I’ll give them that.

  That would probably matter more to me if they weren’t so fucking scary.