Sold To The Babymaker (Kyrzon Breeding Auction Book 1)

by Luna Voss

  “This is the Great Hall,” Kalish tells me as we come out into a large room.

  This room is at least decorated, even if it’s not a style I’ve ever seen before. The Great Hall is quintessentially Kyrzon. At the back there is a great throne in front of a row of control panels, and I imagine this would have originally been the captain’s chair. Leading up to the throne are rows and rows of what appear to be weapons: not swords or axes or spears like the Kyrzons usually wield, but guns, big ones, like futuristic versions of the ones I’ve seen in action movies. On either side of the steps leading up to the throne are what appear to be armed hover-vehicles, each with a laser cannon in the front and space for one person to steer and fire.

  I stare at these hostile installations as I walk past them, not sure whether to be amazed or horrified. It could not be more plain that this is a society that glorifies warfare.

  Kalish leads me past the throne, and I notice suddenly that there is not one chair, but two: behind what I had assumed was the captain’s chair is another that seems like it was installed separately.

  “What are these two chairs for?” I ask Kalish as we pass.

  “One of them is for the chief,” he tells me. “That throne belongs to Drokal, your mate.”

  “And the other?”

  Kalish looks down. “That is an old Kyrzon tradition, no longer followed. From the days when our women were plentiful and fertile.”

  “What is that tradition?”

  He sighs. “In the old days, a clan was ruled by a mating pair. A warrior chief and his warrior queen. Now that the chiefs take human brides, a chief rules his clan alone.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Why? Can’t a human be a leader? And can’t a Kyrzon woman lead a clan?”

  Kalish looks as though he finds my questions amusing. “It is said that there is a clan in the South that is ruled by a woman,” he tells me, “but I cannot confirm this. As to your other question, you will learn with time. Kyrzon culture is very different from human culture. We value strength. Humans are better suited to breeding.”

  He continues walking, as though he’s just settled the matter. I follow him to the turbo-lift, and as we step inside, it suddenly dawns on me that this means the power is working.

  Clearly, the Kyrzons are more technologically advanced than I had expected.

  I decide to probe a little. “Kalish, I saw laser cannons on the outside of the ship. Do you use those often?”

  “They do not function,” he tells me. “Although we have restored power to the ship, the weapons software remains frozen with some kind of error.”

  I nod, thinking. That might be an error I know how to fix. Better not to say anything about it for now.

  “What about the weapons in the Great Hall?” I ask. “Do those function?”

  “They did once,” says Kalish. “In times past. It is said that when our ships first landed here, the Kyrzons fought each other for a hundred years. That is how the clans were formed. We call those times the Great War. When the Great War was over, all the ammunition had been expended. Now the guns are but relics.”

  My mind spins with what he just said. When our ships first landed here.

  Did the Kyrzons travel to this planet on spaceships, just the same as humans?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kalish takes me to Drokal’s chamber on the top floor of the ship, and then leaves me alone to clean myself up after the journey. Everything in the room is oversized, but other than that, the chamber is familiar and comfortable. The aesthetic is rustic, with spears displayed on the walls and a tusk-bear fur blanket on the bed, and I actually find the place quite cozy. It’s very Kyrzon, but it feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve been since I left New Sutter.

  I go into the private bathroom, and I’m tremendously pleased to find a shower. I strip down immediately and get inside, sighing in relief as the warm water pours over me.

  I needed this.

  I clean myself slowly, savoring the experience, and then reluctantly turn the water off. After drying myself, I flop down naked on Drokal’s bed, relieved to have time alone.

  My life has been an absolute whirlwind ever since I was sold. Just days ago, I was living in New Sutter, nervously awaiting my Auction Day. Now, I’m inside a Kyrzon settlement, mated to the chief, lying on his bed inside a spaceship.

  Everything about this is crazy. The idea that the Kyrzons crash-landed here in ships, just the same as us, changes everything I thought I knew about them. I was always taught that their species was native to this world, and that their use of technology and ability to speak our language had come from humans.

  But this discovery seems to conflict sharply with what I learned about the Kyrzon race in school. If they came here from another planet, that means that they were thrust into a dangerous new environment, just the same as us.

  They were just better suited to survival.

  Perhaps humans and Kyrzons came from the same place. That would explain why the two species are able to breed together. I’ve never seen any mention of Kyrzons in Earth media, but our archive cuts off at the year 2000. We have no idea how many years after that our spaceship left Earth.

  I’m interrupted from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I hear Kalish’s voice: “Cleopatra? We will soon have dinner in the great Hall.”

  “Okay!” I call back, my stomach rumbling. “I’ll come out in just a moment.”

  * * *

  I follow Kalish from Drokal’s chamber to the Great Hall. As we enter, I see that the room has been rearranged, with two long tables and many chairs. Boisterous voices filled the room, belonging to a crowd of Kyrzons milling about holding plates and cups. They freeze as we walk into the hall, and their voices fall silent.

  “This is Cleopatra,” Kalish introduces me, addressing the room at large. “Bride to Chief Drokal, and new mother to your clan. Greet her warmly, and pray that she will bear children for many years to come.”

  “For many years to come,” every person in the hall echoes back, clearly completing some sort of ritual.

  “And now we feast!” Kalish roars, and the sound of speech and laughter returns to the room.

  Kalish and I sit at the center of the hall with an empty seat between us, clearly intended to signify Drokal. Every so often, a warrior approaches me to offer his wish that I will bear Drokal many children. All I can do is thank them awkwardly, unsure how to receive this unfamiliar blessing.

  As I look around at the other diners, I realize suddenly that there are women among them. Not many, but enough to notice. I peer at them surreptitiously, trying not to stare. They’re larger than human women, and clearly stronger, but otherwise they do not look very different from myself. One of them notices me watching her and catches my eye, her gaze surprisingly hostile. I quickly look down at my plate, unnerved.

  “How do you like Kyrzon food?” Kalish asks me.

  “Very much so,” I tell him, grateful for the conversation. “It is not too different from human food.”

  “Are you comfortable here? I know it is important to Drokal that you are well taken care of.”

  “I think so,” I say. “I’m still getting used to everything. When will Drokal be back?”

  “I do not know,” says Kalish. “Likely not until tomorrow.”

  I chew my food, feeling disappointed. My first night in an unfamiliar place, and Drokal won’t even be here to spend it with me? I guess the chief has more important things to do.

  After dinner, I return to Drokal’s chamber, my stomach satisfied, but my mind less so. I know it’s only my first night here, but I didn’t feel like I fit in at all with the Kyrzons at the feast. I had no one to talk to other than Kalish, and even with him, the dialog was sparse. Meanwhile, I can’t get the image out of my head of that Kyrzon woman glaring daggers at me. What could I have possibly done to trigger such hostility?

  I get into Drokal’s bed alone, part of me disappointed at his absence, and another part of me relieved to have a night
to myself to process things. I lie there in the darkness, staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar ship, thinking about my situation.

  Minutes pass, and then what feel like hours. I can’t fall asleep. My mind is buzzing.

  There’s something on the ceiling. It looks like a skylight. One of the perks of having the captain’s quarters on the top floor, no doubt. I search the walls until I find the button to open it, and for a little while I stare up at the night sky.

  This makes me think of Julia, and a rush of sadness washes over me. I miss her. It hurts to think that I might never see her again.

  There’s no way I’m falling asleep. I should probably be tired from traveling, but I can’t relax with so many thoughts swirling around my head. I get up from the bed and walk to the door of Drokal’s chamber.

  If I’m not going to sleep, I might as well explore the ship.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Closing my door slowly behind me, I step out into the corridor. The hallway is dark, lit only by dim lighting fixtures spaced evenly down the metal walls. I know I’m on the highest level of the ship, and I decide to explore the floor I’m on rather than going to the turbo-lift.

  I head down the corridor to my right, in the opposite direction of the lift, and keep walking until I come across a doorway that looks somewhat familiar. I step into the room and see a weapons console similar to the one that controls the laser cannon in Fort Sutter.

  Further examination of the console reveals that the technology is the same, or at least very close. That settles it: there’s no doubt in my mind that this ship was made by the same people who created the ship I grew up on.

  I still don’t know exactly how to process this. Perhaps what Kalish told me was right, and the Kyrzons really did travel here on ships, just the same as humans. But that possibility opens up so many questions. Why did they come here? Did they land on this planet by accident? Why were they sent here separately from humans, and what is their species’ relationship to ours?

  Of course, the other possibility is that this ship is human technology, stolen by the Kyrzons so long ago that humans have lost memory of it. As far as we know, the Ship in New Sutter is the only vessel of its type on the planet, and the other settlements in Human Territory are all offshoots from the original colony. However, it does seem possible that this was the site of another human crash-landing, and perhaps the survivors fared more poorly than we did.

  Part of me wants to boot up the weapons system and investigate further, but I resist the urge, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I like having the chance to explore the ship alone.

  I leave the weapons room and continue down the corridor. Many of the doors that line the walls are closed, and I tiptoe past them, worried about waking any sleeping inhabitants. At the end of the hallway is another open door, and through it I can see a huge skylight, spanning from the floor all the way to the ceiling, revealing a spectacular view of the stars and the wilderness outside.

  I walk slowly into the room, my eyes glued to the skylight. It’s a view like no other I’ve seen before, not even sitting on the roof of Fort Sutter. The heavily-forested landscape on this part of the planet is so different from what I’m used to.

  “Not the kind of view you would find in Human Territory, is it?” says a woman’s voice behind me.

  I practically scream in surprise. I whip around, startled, and see an old woman standing behind me, also admiring the view through the skylight.

  An old human woman.

  “Sorry!” I gasp, my heart pounding. “I didn’t see that somebody was already in here.”

  “It’s quite all right,” she says to me. “This whole world must feel very scary and new to you. How are you settling in?”

  “I– okay, I think,” I stutter. “I don’t— I’m sorry, I didn’t see you at dinner. My name is Cleo,” I say, extending my hand.

  The old woman shakes it. “I’m Tilda,” she says. “It’s been a long time since anyone has tried to shake my hand. The Kyrzons don’t have that custom, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I have noticed,” I say with a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Tilda.”

  Instantly, I find myself more at ease than I have been at any point since Drokal left me here. The fact that I’m not the only human here, that I have someone else to talk to who might understand some part of what I’m going through, is tremendously reassuring.

  Tilda, however, doesn’t seem to feel any pressure to make conversation. Her attention returns to the skylight, and I examine her out of the corner of my eye, thinking about what I want to say to her next.

  Tilda looks to be in her seventies or eighties, with short gray hair and a frail physique. The lines on her face are many, but she stands up straight, her posture unburdened by the weight of her years.

  “You were sold as a Kyrzon Bride?” I ask her hesitantly.

  She turns to me, and her smile is reassuring. Compassionate.

  “Yes,” Tilda says. “Many years ago.” She pauses, her wrinkled face creasing as though in thought. “I still remember it as though it were yesterday. I went for 17,000 power units, which was a lot of energy back then.” She lets out a laugh. “You wouldn’t know it to look at me now, but I used to be quite the sexy little thing, just like yourself. I had every warrior at the auction bidding for me.”

  She looks as though she has more to say, and so I stay quiet, waiting for her. I’m eager to hear more about her own experience being auctioned to the Kyrzons. A short while later, she continues:

  “I remember how scared I was at first of the warrior who bought me. He was so big and strong, so much bigger than any of the men I grew up with.” She flashes me a mischievous look. “Our first night alone in his tent, I thought he was going to break me in half when I saw the size of that thing in his pants.”

  She lets out a giggle, and I can’t help but join in. Already, I feel a certain camaraderie with this woman. We’ve both had a lot of the same experiences.

  “Did things get better?” I ask. “With your husband, I mean.” Her tone is jovial enough that I don’t think I’m prying into any painful memories.

  She smiles. “Oh, yes. I came to love him dearly. We human Brides may never be fully accepted into Kyrzon society, but we will never lack the affection of our mates. Kyrzon men love their women with a passion.”

  I decide to ask her about something that’s been bothering me ever since the feast. “When I was at dinner earlier, I made eye contact with one of the Kyrzon women, and she glared at me. She looked like she hated me. Do you know why? Did that ever happen to you?”

  “Your experience does not surprise me,” Tilda answers. “The Kyrzon women are respected as warriors in a way that you and I can never be, but in the world of love and mating, they will always be seen as second-best. Any Kyrzon man who can afford it will choose to purchase a human Bride, because she will be able to give him babies. I think many Kyrzon women resent us for this deeply.”

  I nod. This makes sense to me. I have no doubt that Drokal is seen as an incredibly desirable mate. I can understand why the women here might hate me for taking him, when it sounds like they themselves never even had a chance.

  “Are you happy living with Clan Drokal?” I ask her. “Do you still live with your mate?”

  She sighs. “My mate has been dead for many years now. But I am happy enough. My life here is made comfortable, and now I am old enough that even the Kyrzon women treat me with respect.”

  “Did you ever think about leaving? About going back to Human Territory? Would they allow you leave?”

  “They would allow me to leave, yes,” she says. “I am not a prisoner. But I have lived in the Kyrzon world my entire adult life. What is there for me to return to in Human Territory? All the people I knew when I was young have moved on with their lives, and probably forgotten about me. That is, if they even still live. No, my life is here. I am content.”

  She falls silent, and we both return to looking out the skylight. The silence i
s comfortable.

  After a few minutes, I think of something else I want to address. “I didn’t expect Castle Drok to be a ship,” I begin. “I thought the only spaceship on the planet was in New Sutter.”

  Tilda hesitates. “Yes, that was a surprise to me too. I believe the Kyrzons used the ships to travel here. Drokal is not the only clan that possesses one.”

  I stare at her in amazement. “Do any of these ships actually work? Like for flying?”

  She shakes her head. “No. The Kyrzons are trapped here, just the same as humans. Did you know that there is no Kyrzon language? None at all. For as long as they can remember, they have spoken our tongue. It is my belief that humans and Kyrzons came to this planet from the same place.”

  “And where do you think that place is? I ask, my excitement mounting. This conversation is starting to answer questions that I’ve been asking my entire life.

  “I have no idea,” she says, laughing. “How could I? I am but one old woman, living in a society that rarely bothers to write anything down. I live now to watch my children grow, not to solve ancient mysteries.”

  Children. Of course she has children. How did I not think to ask about that?

  “Your children live here? With Clan Drokal?” I ask.

  “Yes, indeed,” she tells me proudly.

  “Do they have mates?”

  Tilda gives me a look that I don’t know how to interpret, and she pauses a moment before she answers.

  “My children that still live are Drokal and Kalish,” she tells me finally.

  My jaw drops. I’m speaking to Drokal’s mother?

  “Don’t look so surprised,” says Tilda. “You must have known your husband’s mother would be a human.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I look back out the skylight, at a loss for words.

  Tilda moves closer to me, putting her hand on my shoulder and giving me a gentle squeeze.