Shalia's Diary #3

by Tracy St. John

  I was startled. “He’s there? In Atlanta?”

  Weln nodded. “The Academy site was closed down. He’s only a section commander now.”

  “Not our section, fortunately.” Dusa continued to stare at me.

  I finally dropped my gaze from Dusa’s. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew the baby is your clan’s. I’d give anything for it to be. It would make the decision on whether or not to have it easier.”

  Dusa finally sighed, his shoulders drooping. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Shalia. We’re not clanned. We knew we wouldn’t be. You were always free to explore.”

  “I’d find that easier to believe if you didn’t look so damned miserable.”

  He managed a smile. “I know you love me and my clan, Shalia. If our timing had been better, we would have been able to make it work. But it wasn’t. We were not meant to be.”

  That’s when the tears finally started. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to make them feel worse than they already did. I couldn’t help it, though, not when I heard the finality in Dusa’s tone.

  “My little pretty, don’t. I hate it when you get upset.” He shook his head. “Damn it. I should never have let this go this long. We should have made a clean break of it when you left Earth.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked. “I hate the thought of not talking to you three.”

  “But look what it’s doing to you.” For all his youth, Dusa sounded so mature right then. I was able to appreciate it even as he shredded my heart. “Shalia, you are going to Kalquor. You are going to join another clan. I am not going to fight that, not when we won’t be home for so long. It could be years before we get back.”

  “But this baby—” I started.

  “The baby is yours. It doesn’t matter if the biological parent is in this clan or not. None of us have a claim to it, not in this situation. And you certainly don’t want Nang involved.” His lip curled as he spoke the other Dramok’s name.

  “No. Not in a million years.”

  Esak smiled bitterly. “I am glad you do not hold him in your heart as you do us. I have that to enjoy, at least.”

  I felt ill. “I wish I’d stayed clear of him. He was such a huge mistake.”

  Weln shrugged. “He kept you safe when none of us could. He helped rescue your mother when she was abducted.”

  Esak snorted. “You’re right, my Imdiko. I guess I’ll have to let him live.”

  We all managed weak smiles at that.

  Dusa looked at me. His expression was pained, but there was love there too. He didn’t let me bask in it for long.

  “Have your baby and don’t worry over its paternity. That part is not important anyway. What matters is the child has you for a mother and a good, caring clan for its fathers. Find the best clan you can for the babe and you. And be happy. By the ancestors, that’s all I want for you.”

  I knew what was coming. I couldn’t stop it, but I tried to. “Dusa, I don’t want to lose you three.”

  “We have to say goodbye now. We have to let you go. You’ll never find your lifemates as long as we don’t. We will not contact you again.”

  Weln bowed his head to keep me from seeing his tears. Esak closed his eyes, but the tough Nobek kept his expression stony. And me, I just kept begging it not to happen.

  “Please, Dusa. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  He smiled and blew me a kiss. “My pretty. My Shalia. I thank the ancestors for every moment I had with you. You will always have my love.”

  “No, Dusa.”

  “Goodbye.”

  The vid winked out. Just like that, they were gone. I know they believe it was for my own good, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel good. All I feel is empty. Lost.

  Dad was right. I should have kept my mouth shut. When will I ever learn?

  December 24

  It’s Christmas Eve back on Earth. Some of the women on the transport and our liaisons are trying to put together a celebration for tomorrow. Not me. I’m sitting here in my quarters, thinking so hard my head hurts.

  I don’t know if I’m in denial over losing Dusa, Esak, and Weln. I can’t cry though. I feel loss, but instead of doing my usual, ‘poor Shalia, oh woe is me’ shtick, I’m thinking of how I can make this right. How I can keep from losing them forever. Even if we aren’t meant to be a clan, I can’t accept that we are supposed to completely end contact. Not after all we shared.

  I keep wondering if the child I carry can bring them back into my life in the end. If I have the baby and it looks enough like one of them, I would know for sure then. I would be able to say, “Yes, this child is the product of my affair with Clan Dusa.” That’s got to count for something; not just to me but to them as well. Maybe if I wait for as long as I can, maybe if I put off the clans in the lottery long enough, Dusa and the others will make it to Kalquor before the two years are up. It’s not impossible.

  And if they don’t make it back in time? There is still the chance I’d join a clan who wouldn’t be opposed to the biological fathers of my child being a part of his or her life. I could even make it a condition of the clanning.

  Yes, I know what Betra says, what Tep has told me, and how Dusa himself has weighed in on the matter. I’m well aware of how Kalquor views the whole parenting thing. But hey, my feelings have to count for something too, right? My child has a right to know his real father, if it’s possible – and if that father isn’t Nang. Sorry kid, but you’re better off not exposed to Mommy’s big mistake. In the case of Commander Nang, you’re better off doing as Kalquor says.

  I simply can’t imagine letting this go as if Clan Dusa had nothing to do with my child. Even if they didn’t, I want my first sweethearts to play a part in my life. I want to see them again, in any capacity. Maybe Dusa was right and we were not meant to be, but it doesn’t mean we never happened. It doesn’t mean we should never see each other again.

  I have so much to think about. Certainly way too much to go out and help with the merrymaking plans of tomorrow. If I know Betra, Candy, and Katrina, someone will be coming to check on me soon. I need to be busy with something so they won’t bug me to go out and be social.

  I think I’ll finish that stupid lottery questionnaire. That’s so involved that my friends will leave me the hell alone, giving me a chance to wrestle with this issue while I work on it. Hell, they’ll even be proud of me. That’s the plan. That’s exactly what I’ll do. With any luck, I’ll figure out a way to make this mess right.

  December 25

  Merry Christmas, universe. Not that anybody but us Earthers care. Still, we made a pretty good day of it. The party was a good, if mostly non-religious affair. It was almost as if we were ashamed to be celebrating a major holiday of our world’s faith. After all, we women are all on our way to Kalquor and debauchery with at least three men each. I’d say we’ve fallen far short of what we were taught.

  I got one hell of a present. But I’ll tell that part in its time.

  We celebrated with alcohol. I was allowed to drink something called leshella from Plasius. Betra told me (and I double checked with Tep) that it was safe for my embryo. So I got to toast with the rest of the ladies and our liaisons. There was also a buffet filled with good food. We even exchanged a few presents. I gave Candy and Katrina matching gold necklaces scavenged from the stores on board. Each had a clear pendant with a preserved four-leaf clover inside. I thought we all could use a little luck, no matter what our goals were. They seemed to like the jewelry, especially since the necklaces represented a piece of Earth, which we will never see again.

  Candy got me some chocolates she’d begged Betra to have the kitchen concoct. They were in the shapes of rattles and baby bottles with colored candy details.

  “You don’t hate them, do you?” she asked me. “I know you haven’t made a decision yet, but I really want to be an aunt. Plus you have an excuse to eat sweets and get fat.”

  I laughed, and her worried expression relaxed. “Candy, you could have shaped it lik
e dog poo for all I care. It’s chocolate! How could I not like it?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Gee, thanks for comparing my present to shit, Shalia.”

  “Sorry! I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I think they did a very good job with these.”

  Candy grinned. “I drew them pictures to go by. They did do pretty well, didn’t they?”

  I admired the artistry of the chocolates. The chefs on board had captured a cartoonish cuteness with the little pink-nippled bottles and green-and-blue striped rattles.

  “I love them,” I told her. “I don’t have to share, right?”

  Katrina’s smile was full of deviltry as she handed over her presents to us. We opened the gifts with understandable trepidation, and with good reason it turned out. True to form, she gave Candy and me big fake penises that vibrated. I screamed laughter while Candy quickly concealed her brown-colored dick back in its wrapping.

  “Oh my God!” Candy gasped. She peeked at the fake cock and re-covered it once more. “Are you mental?”

  “Since you two aren’t making yourselves happy with any of these men, I figured you needed some kind of relief,” Katrina snorted, completely unapologetic. “If you want something bigger, they have a shop in the main concourse. Candy, since you’re a virgin, I think you should ease into it. That’s why your dildo is smaller than Shalia’s.”

  Betra ventured over to see what all the fuss was about. He took one look at the dildo in my hand and quickly made his way to the other side of the rec room. His face was the reddest I’ve ever seen. Redder than even Candy, who kept sneaking peeks at her toy.

  Maybe an hour later, with my new ‘boyfriend’ carefully hidden away, I approached our liaison. “Hey, Betra. Thanks for helping us have a nice Christmas. Here.” I held out a wrapped gift.

  He blinked at me in surprise, and a smile slowly spread over his handsome face. “A gift for me? Thank you, Shalia.” He frowned a little as he took the present. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  I snorted. “Are you kidding? You’ve looked out for us. You’ve put up with me and my crazy life.” I shrugged. “Besides, we don’t give gifts with the expectation of getting anything back. It’s the act of sharing that’s important.”

  “Well, I am touched,” Betra said. He opened the package to find a little book I’d made, one with printed pages. It had taken some doing to get the materials I needed. Using paper was so archaic, even for us backwards Earthers.

  He paged through it, exclaiming with delight to find pictures of each of the ten women he is liaison for. Each was labeled with the lady’s name and a individual thank you for some kindness he’d done. His grin stretched wide across his face, especially when he reached my picture and the caption, Thanks for not choking me all the times I know you wanted to.

  “I have never wanted to choke you, Shalia,” Betra laughed. “I’ve come close to shaking you a few times—”

  “Just a few?” I asked. “I’m losing my touch.”

  “Thank you.” Betra’s face shone with joy. “This is a treasure.”

  Since I had put him in a good mood, I decided to sound him out on some of the ideas I was wrestling with. “Look, I know this is taboo for you Kalquorians, but I can’t shake this crazy need to make Clan Dusa a part of their child’s life. That’s assuming it is their baby I’m carrying.”

  To his credit, Betra didn’t seem ready to dive into a Shalia-shaking mood. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he asked, his expression understanding.

  “I know I should let it go like you all keep telling me to,” I said. “But it seems so wrong. My heart screams against it.” I had to swallow hard to get past the sudden lump in my throat.

  “What if it’s Nang’s child, Shalia?” Betra asked. “If you want to give Dusa’s clan the right to see the child, don’t you have to also extend that courtesy to Dramok Nang?”

  “You know I can’t stand the thought of that,” I scowled. “If only I had longer than two years to select a clan! If I could wait for Dusa, Esak, and Weln to return to Kalquor, then we could have a chance to see if our union would work.”

  Betra looked at me for several seconds. His lips tightened, as if he debated something. Finally, he blew out a breath.

  “You can.”

  I blinked, sure I had not heard him correctly. “What? What do you mean, I can?”

  Betra gave me a half-smile. “If you keep the child and carry it to term, it is a citizen of the Empire. Your baby is half-Kalquorian, Shalia, which means it has a permanent home. You, as the child’s mother, share in that. With the birth of your baby, you become a Kalquorian citizen as well. You do not have to leave the Empire at the end of the two-year lottery limit.”

  I stared at him, flabbergasted. “I don’t have to clan?”

  “No.”

  “And I can stay on Kalquor?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt a buzz of excitement course through me. “I don’t even have to enter the lottery? I can skip that part?”

  Betra held up his hand. “You can, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Shalia.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the government-provided housing, while livable, doesn’t allow for many luxuries. It’s just the basics of shelter, clothing, food, and medical care ... plus the small allowances that won’t amount to much more than a few toys for the babe. You’ve looked at what’s going into your account, haven’t you?”

  I nodded. I was beginning to see what he was getting at.

  “You won’t be able to afford splurges like a dinner out more than once every couple of weeks. You’ll have to save to buy nonessentials. The Empire provides the basics for living, but nothing fancy.”

  “Which is why you’re all so hung up on rank and promotions,” I guessed.

  Betra nodded. “Along with the need to contribute to the good of all. Actively seeking a clan and having our children is seen as a major contribution, which is why you’ll get more as a Matara in the lottery. You’ll live in the much nicer complex being built with a lot of amenities. It will also provide your child with a state-of-the-art facility, given to all the mothers who enter the lottery.”

  I mused over that. Candy and I had gone over the admittedly nice indulgences provided by the complex Kalquor was building for us. It was like a two-year vacation at a resort, with the stipulation we go on dates. I hate to sound shallow, but it was hard for me to imagine living anywhere else, especially when it would be nicer for the baby too.

  My choices were clear: I could live in the lap of luxury with extras for my bundle of joy while evaluating would-be suitors, or I could live like a charity case while waiting for a clan that might not come home for years.

  Despite the spike of excitement, I made myself be realistic about the situation. Clan Dusa might not prove compatible for me in the long term. Even I was willing to admit my torrid affair with my three sweeties might not have the longevity it needed. We’d fallen in love, but that love had not had ample time to be nurtured. It wasn’t a given that it would mean happily ever after.

  Yet, I really wanted Dusa, Esak, and Weln to have the opportunity to know their baby. I now had the option to wait for either a clan that would allow Clan Dusa to be a part of their child’s life or to wait for Clan Dusa itself.

  Fighting the urge to squeal in glee, I gave Betra a composed smile that betrayed none of my racing thoughts. “Thank you for telling me my options. I appreciate it.”

  He sighed. “I’ll probably regret it, but you do deserve to know it all. Just don’t toss aside a good, loving clan for a dream, Shalia.”

  “I won’t,” I reassured him. Meanwhile, I thought how I would carefully plan a message to Dusa. I could tell him I would still be on Kalquor, waiting for the day he and the other two returned home ... and that they would be welcome to meet their son or daughter.

  January 5

  Okay, I know everyone keeps telling me that having a child will only enhance my status with the clans, but this is just
ridiculous.

  I finished the questionnaire and submitted it a week and a half ago. Candy stopped by this morning and suggested I check to see if any of the clans had responded. I rolled my eyes.

  “Isn’t there some kind of lag time between here and Kalquor?” I asked. “They probably only received it yesterday or the day before.”

  “Those boys are desperate,” Candy loftily informed me. “I had over 200 offers for a first appointment in less than 24 hours after my questionnaire went into the system. Trust me; you’ll want to weed out a few every day or you’re going to fall way behind.”

  So I signed into my computer and accessed the offers. I was afraid I wouldn’t have even one. Not that I wanted to be deluged by 200 eager clans, but I didn’t want to be embarrassed either. A nice dozen would have suited me fine and kept my ego from being shattered.