Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
INTO THE STARS
By Gwendolyn Field
Copyright © 2018 Gwendolyn Field
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.
Published by
Gwendolyn Field
Image license from Dreamstime.com with the following names: © Mircea Bezergheanu -“Athletic young man on dusty field. People, military.”
depositphotos © cokacoka #8633531 “Sensual barefoot woman.”
Graphic Design by Kalen O’Donnell of Bookable Covers.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
CHAPTER ONE
Mother was a highly respected personal Nevesta before I was born, having served our Emperor for twelve years until he took an Empress. She speaks fondly of her twenty-three years as a Nevesta. She birthed me at forty-two with a retired space vessel captain who’d hauled goods between planets before retiring with her. Father never took much interest in me, but he adores Mother, so I cannot fault him.
At fifteen I began to be groomed as a personal Nevesta, learning the art of masseuse and fashion, as well as prime etiquette for the Parliament of Mars humana. I wasn’t trained in sex, necessarily, but I visited sky clubs with Sheralyn and met boys who were happy to show me the ways of males. Not to mention what I learned from listening during time spent with seasoned Nevestas. Girls and women like to talk, after all.
At seventeen I set out into society to do my duty for the Parliament of Mars. I’d been nervous when I met my Vesto—the man I would service with my body and comfort with my affections for seven years. Colonel Ravarsh wasn’t the most handsome or youngest of men, but he was honorable as the Army’s third in command. He treated me gently and was easy to please.
Each day the Colonel came to me with his graying mustache and neatly parted hair, his mind often far away on the latest battle plans. I always greeted him with a smile and took his lead. Four days a week, like clockwork, he would lay me on the bed and take his relief on top of me as he softly grunted my name, “Reesa, Reesa….” In the last year after a war injury to his knee, he’d taken to lying on his back while I rode him. It was never unpleasant…necessarily. He always went away pleased, and I was content knowing I’d done my job.
Because of people in my profession, Mars males are said to be more rational, calm, and level-headed than males of old and current Earth men. Likewise, women are more fulfilled and less prone toward mental illness. Our people are at peace, while so many civilizations in the galaxies fight among themselves, stuck in the old ways, going so far as to murder one another over greed, jealousies, and disagreements. Earth is the worst. Even their government officials cannot come to polite terms half the time. Add other species of intelligent life from around the universe into the mix, and it’s a disaster out there. Frightening.
Life on Mars is all about the symbiotic relationship we have with one another—we share what we can and take only as needed—money is of no use to us. The society of humana has no patience for laziness or selfishness. Each person is tested and interviewed for the path that best compliments their natural talents and interests. Those who are found without use are suddenly not found at all. Gone. Because precious oxygen in our manmade atmosphere cannot be wasted.
I’m content with my place in the universe.
I lounge on a soft divan chair in the Colonel’s parlor room, swiping my remote-covered fingertip in the air to flip channels on the wall screen. Our finger-gloves are thin and wireless, like a second skin, covering my fingertips so lightly I forget they’re there. I use them for all household devices and communications.
As grateful as I am to have a good, honorable placement, it’s oftentimes lonely. As the Nevesta of a Colonel, I’m stationed in his personal home with access to everything except his office. My only interactions during the day are the food and parcel delivery people, and the robots who scuttle through the house and yard, keeping everything tidy.
My closest friend, Sheralyn, is a public Nevesta living in a common house. She services different men each day. Sometimes she sees the same men, but it’s encouraged for people to make their rounds to avoid any attachments. Naturally, everyone has their favorites, though. Sheralyn and the other Nevestas and Nevestos in her building are only permitted to service two people per day. There are laws and regulations to keep all service people healthy and well-managed.
Sex is necessary to stabilize moods and general health, but society has learned from times of old that sex-addled brains left to their own devices have negative effects on a civilization. Cases of rape, molestation, and sexual addiction are rare on Mars, and those found guilty are either killed or shipped to the cool side of Mercury for work camps and munitions-production prisons. There are no regular prisons here on Mars.
Bored of the wall screen, I sigh and pick up a paperback book. It’s an absolutely ragged rendition of a novel from a bygone Earthly era. I don’t know many women like myself who are obsessed with historical literature of Earth. Most Mars humana find Earthly ways to be callous, but I find something deeply romantic about their stories. The way a man and woman are drawn together—soul mates, they were called—and the male’s protective nature over his female. Their idea of marriage is especially fascinating. Here, we all belong to one another, and are responsible for each other.
Legal marriage is no longer an institution. No marriage. No divorce. People live together for as little or long as they want. A commitment between two people is personal, not a government issue. And many committed couples still visit Nevestas and Nevestos, as needed. It isn’t frowned upon. I know from my historical novels that this used to be called “cheating” or “infidelity,” and many hearts were broken because of it. I marvel at the idea of one person meeting all of another’s needs forever. What pressure they must feel.
On rural lands of Earth, there are still tribes of people who live this way. People who follow religion and ancient laws, making vows to one another at ages as young as eighteen, and avoiding technology. Fascinating.
The wall telly dings, breaking my reverie. I flick a finger and my boss’s beautiful middle-aged face fills the wall. I lower my feet to the floor and sit up straighter.
“Hello, Missus,” I say.
“Ah, Reesa.” Her usual smile of greeting is missing, putting my body on alert.
“Is something wrong,
Missus?”
“Not wrong. But rather…urgent.”
I stand and walk closer to the wall screen, my heart thumping. “What is it?”
“Colonel Ravarsh is being called away. Permanently. I’m not at liberty to say where.”
My world slightly tips and I press a hand against my stomach, attempting not to selfishly wonder what this means for me. I’ve been his Nevesta so many years. He’s all I know. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, dear.” Her face is all business. “And I’ve sanctioned a new station for you.”
New station? My stomach, oh, my stomach. I can’t respond quite yet.
“It’s a bit…unprecedented,” she says carefully. “But I wouldn’t have requested you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”
My mouth has gone dry. I clear my throat and swallow, remembering that this woman is a dear friend of Mother’s, who I’ve known my whole life, and I trust her. I nod for her to continue.
“A shuttle leaves in two days with a group of Hornets.”
“H-hornets?” I blink. Does she mean the Hornets? The elite fighters of the Milky Way galaxy—beastly soldiers with top secret intergalactic missions? Nervous fright fills me, and I clutch my belly tighter.
“Yes.” She rushes on. “There is room on their ship for only one Nevesta. I’m not permitted to know the total flying time or your destination.”
My dry lips part to ask, “How many Vestos?”
She pauses. “Seven.” And my heart gallops. I’m to service seven soldiers who are known throughout the universe for their brutality?
“Are they…of Mars?”
Her face pales. “Most of them are of Earth.” When I go rigid, she presses forward. “Reesa, listen to me. It’s unheard of at twenty-five for a Nevesta to have had a single Vesto. I believe this will be good for you. When you return, you’ll be ready for anything.” She speaks as if it’s a grand adventure.
This is too much. Too fast. I’m dizzy.
“I’ve never done a long space travel,” I whisper. I’d only done basic atmospheric travels for field trips.
“The vessel is equipped with everything you’ll need. It’s state of the art. I think you’ll find the travels quite nice.” She smiles too brightly.
I feel as if I can’t say no. What would be my alternative? A common house? There’s no shame in it, but after being with the regimented Colonel all these years, I’ve taken a liking to the ways of the military. Everything from their vernacular to the uniforms are a comfort. My boss must think I’m stalling from fear, because she continues to plea the case.
“You needn’t be frightened of the Hornets.” She stops. “Well, perhaps some of them are a bit rough around the edges, but they won’t harm you. And they’ll be given service requirements just as they would on Mars.”
“And will those not of Mars heed our rules?”
“They will. Many of them have spent time on Mars or in our jurisdiction. They know how it works. One to two Vestos per day, depending on how you’re feeling. These men have had less than once-a-week servicing on some of their missions, I’m certain. Some of them are not accustomed to having Nevestas during travels at all. They’ll be grateful for your presence.”
“But most earthlings don’t agree with our Nevesta-Vestos system,” I remind her. They have horrible words for those of my occupation, and in many places on Earth it’s actually illegal.
“You are to service those who seek you, and not worry yourself about the others. Remember, Reesa, we’re all human. Well…” Her eyebrows come together.
“What?”
But she quickly brightens again. “Nothing.”
I let out a long breath. We’re all human. Mars was settled over six hundred years ago by men and women from Earth, which was suffering massive plagues at the time, caused by tectonic shifting that made earthquakes destroy entire countries across their globe, releasing new bacteria and viruses that had lived deep underground. At the time, lead scientists had already begun building on Mars as a precaution. They sent five hundred of the best and brightest from around the world to inhabit Mars as a test group.
Mars was too cold for human life, the air too thin, so an atmospheric bubble was created around a portion of the planet that received the most sunlight. Over time, that bubble was built out to contain the entire globe, and it has a greenhouse effect, warming and allowing for life and growth. Machines kept oxygen and carbon dioxide levels perfect. Eventually Mars took on its own rules and laws separate from those of Earth. Over time we became one ruling government with one language.
Despite my trepidation and disbelief at this turn of events, I know there’s nothing to say but yes. “All right, Missus. I will serve to the best of my abilities.”
She beams proudly. And just like that I have gone from a cushy, simple life to something terrifying and unknown. Stars above.
CHAPTER TWO
I’m still feeling terrified two days later when I show at the intergalactic airport, and am quickly ushered through security checkpoints by two soldiers. The airport buzzes with fast-moving walkways above our heads. Cheery faces of skyline personnel greet us along wall panels, giving information about airport rules and waiting queues. Baggage travels through a vacuum of air in wall tubes to be picked up at their destinations.
With a woosh of suctioned air, my escorts and I are let through a panel that closes behind us, and it’s suddenly too quiet. Our footsteps sound loud and hurried. I’m ushered into the back of an oval air car as the two soldiers climb in front. We rise into the air, hovering until the craft is at full energy, then in a blur we dart across airport property to a highly guarded militaristic-looking hanger I’ve never seen before.
The air pushes from my lungs in a rush as we turn the corner and a spectacular, black, sleek aircraft comes into view. Parliament’s logo is painted in white on the side: a star surrounded by a dove, apple, hammer, and a diamond, symbols of peace, nourishment, work, and prosperity.
As I’m let out, the Missus is there to greet me. My stomach lurches with nerves, and I’m reminded of a similar sensation the day she introduced me to Colonel Ravarsh. Everything worked out that time, and I’m sure it will work out now as well. She takes my hand and air-kisses both of my cheeks.
“The crew is aboard.” She speaks briskly. “They want to leave as soon as possible, so let’s get you introduced.”
Bloody stars. The Missus squeezes my hand, pulling me to follow her up the long flight of stairs that rises when our weight is securely in place. I don’t look down, as heights affect my sense of balance.
I think about Mother’s proud face when I left her this morning, and Sheralyn’s mix of jealousy and excitement when we met yesterday. Before she’d been placed as a Nevesta, she’d dreamed of being an intergalactic sky hostess. She imagines I’m being whisked to some majestic planet, but my hopes are not as high.
The platform slightly jolts as it moves us into the grand entrance of the vessel. The Missus takes a hall, seeming familiar with the ship, and walks us into a seating area with a wall screen that fills an entire side of the room. But as large as the screen is, it doesn’t seem to take up nearly as much space as the men standing in the room wearing black uniforms. Each man has weapons across their backs and along their tactical belts, even strapped at their calves above black boots, as if they’ve just come from a training session.
Their rapt attention barely flickers to us and then back to two men in the middle, who seem unhappy. I freeze as I realize the huge, muscular man with olive skin and buzzed hair as black as night is having harsh words in the center of the group with a much smaller, rounder, balding man who doesn’t look like a soldier at all.
My eyes dart to the six other men who are watching with sharp eyes, standing with their feet apart in military stances, their bulging arms crossed in front. Though they are alike in the solid, confident nature of their statures, they are each unique in their appearances.
“Something the matter?” the Missus asks.
All heads swivel to us, and those sharp eyes hit first her, then me, like bullets. It takes every ounce of my strength not to move behind my boss in response to their intense attention. Instead I curl my fingers tightly and force my spine to remain straight.
“Yes,” the largest soldier says in a voice that shakes the cabin, even though he’s not yelling. “Our chef—” he gestures to the round man, “—was supposed to bring his committed partner, as was allotted, and he’s just informed me she’s not joining him.”
Oh, dear. The Missus and I look at the small man, whose face now has a light sheen of sweat. He raises his hands.
“She changed her mind as of this morning, Missus. What was I to do? She’s not military personnel like us. I cannot force her.”
The large soldier looks as if he’s barely withholding the urge to throttle him. “We have but one Nevesta for all my men. As is, they can only be serviced once a week. We cannot add another into the rotation. We had an understanding.” He glares at the chef.
“And we still do,” the man says, stepping back. “I swear to you, I do not require servicing.”
The large leader eyes him distrustfully.
“Shall I find an additional Nevesta or chef helper, Captain?” asks the Missus. Ah, so the large, dark-haired man is the Earth Captain. He at least seems to accept the Nevesta-Vestos system.
“No,” he growls. “There’s no time.” He flicks a hand at the chef, signaling him to leave, and the man quickly shuffles out.
The Missus snaps her fingers as if realizing something. “I’ve got a spare soft body in the trunk of my hovercar. A female, brand new. I’ll send it over straight away.”
The captain gives a small shiver of disgust at the mention of the lifelike dummy used for sexual stimulation, but he nods. “Fine. That’ll do.”
The Missus steps away to send a quick message to her driver.
I swallow as all of the men step closer, openly sizing me up. One of them, a blond, smiles as he looks me over. But it’s the captain who has my attention. He’s practically glaring at me. Our eyes catch and I can’t look away.
Into the Stars Page 1
