by Abel, Regine
I glanced at Rogue while speaking those words. His uneasy expression told me things were even worse than I’d feared.
“Only twenty-four of our mothers still manage to connect with reality, with varying degrees of success. The thirty-two others, including yours, are completely catatonic,” Rogue said with a commiserating voice. “Unfortunately, the mutations have done irreversible damage to their systems. Only a handful would have a slim chance of resuming some kind of a normal life. The others have become too dependent on the liveship for basic life support.”
My chest felt so compressed, I couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. Schooling my features, I gave my brother a sharp nod. Tabitha’s hand tightened around mine, and she moved closer to me, her free hand giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. However small, I appreciated the comforting gesture.
“I can come with you, if you wish,” Tabitha offered in a soft voice.
“I would welcome your presence,” I said, my voice made throatier by emotion.
Dread and my other siblings who had crewed my ship followed in our wake as Reaper deactivated the cloaking shield that had hidden the massive liveship from view. Shaped like a manta ray, the creature’s outer shell could have passed for Kevlar armor. This particular vessel had been grown over nearly a decade, its network of tissues, muscles, and nerves carefully grown and treated with advanced biochemistry to make it immune to most viral infections that could weaken its ability to fly, to make it respond to more complex nervous stimuli, and to allow it to sustain far greater damage with a much shorter healing time.
Two large doors opened, revealing the rippling, organic ridges of the dark, arched hallway of the ship. I hated the liveships’ slightly musty scent, reminiscent of the rotten smell of a moldy home. We didn’t dally on our way to the two central chambers. The absence of guards and the deactivated security mechanism guarding their access gave me the impression of having entered a tomb.
In many ways, it was one.
We walked past the empty nurseries, the translucent membranes acting as windows giving us a glimpse into the rooms with two rows of dark pods which served as cribs. Tabitha shuddered, her skin erupting in goosebumps as she looked at the fleshy, elephant trunk-like tubes dangling from the ceiling above each pod. She didn’t need me to tell her that they served to feed the newborns and absorb their waste, be it vomit, feces, or anything else.
Letting go of her hand, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She seemed to welcome the embrace and passed her arm around my waist. It was both to comfort her and to draw strength from her presence.
My throat constricted painfully as we reached the doors of the first chamber, each one designed to contain thirty women. With the security locks disabled, the reinforced membranes blocking the entrance into the bridal chamber parted with a wet, fleshy sound. The white, wart-like domes on the ceiling gradually turned themselves on, lighting the room.
“Oh god,” Tabitha whispered so low I barely heard her words.
Rage, sorrow, and helpless horror crushed me from within as my gaze landed on the twenty-six women held in this room—the more recent annex built after the first one had reached its capacity. Fleshy membranes wrapped round their foreheads, breasts, upper arms, waist, and calves, strapping them to the wall in an upright position. Organic tubes, one on each side of their necks, provided them with the necessary nutrients to keep them alive. The sickly, whitish-blue hue of their skin, almost translucent, made the thick network of bluish veins beneath it stand out starkly against their paleness. Dark scales covered parts of their arms, legs, and faces in haphazard patches. A third of them had bellies swollen with my unborn siblings.
This was a million times worse than I had feared. Nearly two decades had elapsed since I’d last entered my mother’s chamber, and it was my first time setting foot into this one. My brothers scattered, each heading towards their respective mother. I walked around the circular room, stopping at each of the women—even though most of them were unresponsive—to pay my respects and apologize for having failed to save them sooner. The few who had a minimum of awareness all expressed the same request through mind-speak that I should grant them their final freedom.
Tabitha remained my rock throughout this ordeal. Her mere presence gave me strength, but the gentle caress of her thumb against my side, her consciousness softly brushing against mine with soothing waves, helped dampen the worst of the pain crushing my hearts. Entering the second chamber where the first ‘brides’ had been confined for the past three decades nearly broke me. Hearing Dread’s sharp breath and Reaper’s barely repressed groan of pain at the sight that greeted us almost shattered what remained of my resolve.
Rogue supported Reaper as they walked towards their mother. He had already seen what had become of her before Shuria knocked him out. Passing my free arm around Dread, we headed past the other women straight to our mother.
In their contempt for all hybrids, the Kryptid Soldiers had taken great pleasure in giving us lurid descriptions of the way Khutu had gotten his rocks off impregnating our mothers. However, in the later years, they’d maliciously taunted us about how the General’s first brides had become too monstrous for him to mate with, and how they were now getting artificially inseminated with his seed. I could see why.
The mutation had gone even further on our mother and the other brides in this room. She had mostly fused with the organic membrane that served as the chamber’s wall. Giant vein-like organic tubes entered her body at various locations, most focused around her face and chest, a few along her legs. Two-thirds of her body was covered in disjointed patches of scales, some excessively thick and protruding almost like spikes. Her skin, now an ashen color, was riddled with cracks, like grey dried mud. Her formerly glorious mane had fallen off with only a handful of greyish-white tufts still hanging in some places. Nothing remained of the beautiful woman my mother had once been.
Letting go of my brother, I cupped her face in my hand. Her skin felt like cold sandpaper.
“Mother, it’s me, Bane, your firstborn son. I’m here with Dread, your second born, and Tabitha, your Vanguard sister, and my Dragon Queen.” Tabitha shivered against me, and her arm tightened around my waist. “I kept my promise. You are free. I am sorry it took so long, but you are all free. All your sisters and all my brothers are away from him and out of his reach. He will never hurt any of us again. I just wish you could see it. I am so very sorry.”
My voice choked on the last words. I tried to reach out to her psychic mind. The shield around her soul might as well have been made of titanium. It was completely impenetrable. Its silver sheen of the rank four psychic that she was had taken a dull color, its previously smooth surface cracked in a similar fashion to her skin. Just like her body, her psychic mind was dying.
I rested my forehead against hers, my hearts further breaking as my soul kept seeking hers in vain. She was beyond anyone’s reach. At least, I hoped wherever her spirit wandered, it was a joyous and peaceful place.
Tabitha’s hand caressing my back finally made me give up my futile efforts. I couldn’t tell how long she had been doing it before it registered in my brain. I gently kissed my mother’s forehead before stepping away from her. Dread, his face drenched in tears, also stepped up to kiss our mother and press his forehead against hers. With my woman’s support, we patiently waited for him.
Dread eventually pulled away. Turning around, he walked out of the chamber with heavy steps, head bowed, and shoulders slumping. We followed in his wake.
Words were unnecessary.
Chapter 7
Tabitha
Bane didn’t speak after we left that nightmarish chamber. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror these women had endured over the years. No wonder their minds had broken. As we stepped outside of the liveship, a dozen hybrids ranging from about age six to their late twenties awaited us. It took me a second to realize they were all the sons of Bane’s mother.
I looked up at his beautiful face. For once, he was making no effort
to hide his emotions—his pain. My heart broke for him realizing once more what a horrible life he must have lived, and the heavy burden and guilt that he constantly carried around. He turned to look at me, his face a mask of pure sorrow. Leaning down, he gently kissed my lips, caressed my hair then, summoning his wings, Bane flew away. As one, his siblings summoned their wings as well and followed their older brother. Reaper joined them.
Rogue walked up to me, a sad smile on his baby face. “Flying helps him deal with problems. We all love our mothers, but Bane loves his more than words could express.” He looked up at Bane’s distant silhouette in the yellow sky, diving and spiraling, his siblings emulating him. They resembled a flock of birds in their flight pattern. “As the firstborn hybrid, Bane had no one but his mother to show him any love. The Kryptids Soldiers hated us. The Kryptid Workers in the nurseries thought of us as abominations. They abused him at every opportunity, stopping short of killing him.”
“And the General allowed it?” I asked, flabbergasted, while my chest tightened at the thought of the helpless child he had been.
“The General wouldn’t have tolerated them killing him, but he is a strong advocate of the concept of survival of the fittest. He wanted his son to be strong. What better way to toughen him up than to allow him to be bullied? Elisa kept him sane until more of us were born healthy. Before then, Bane had to watch many of the first infants who survived birth get nonetheless put down because of one defect or another. But for those of us who made it, Bane did everything in his power to protect us, taking many beatings on our behalf, until he grew strong enough to be the one dishing them out.”
“Thus, making him the strong male the General wanted,” I whispered, watching Bane doing acrobatics in the sky.
“Yes,” Rogue said, softly. “And the greatest big brother and most selfless leader one could ever wish for. You have caught the hearts of the best of males.”
My head jerked towards him, my stomach knotting with instinctive anxiety. This was all moving too fast. My attraction to Bane couldn’t be denied, and his feelings for me seemed to have some genuine depth. But he’d introduced me to his mother as his Dragon Queen, and his siblings appeared to think of us as an official item. We’d have much to sort out, but my head was in too much of a mess to handle this. With the Kryptid threat looming, I couldn’t afford to just wait and see how things played out. And yet, this wasn’t the type of decision that should be rushed into. Except, my every instinct told me that when it came to personal involvement, Bane didn’t play games.
Rogue taking my hand startled me. With a reassuring brotherly smile, he pulled me after him.
“Let’s get you settled,” Rogue said, leading me towards the cave entrance. “Bane will join you when he’s ready.”
We entered the inconspicuous looking cave, and a large section of stone wall opened to reveal the high-tech interior of a secret lift. Big enough to comfortably hold thirty people—or sizeable cargo—it gave access to three different levels of the city. Two more symbols on the panel hinted that more levels would eventually be accessible later or required a special authorization to activate them.
When the cabin started moving, its back-wall, which I’d first assumed to be made of polished stones, turned out to be some kind of reinforced glass giving us a breathtaking view of the inside of the underground city. Still in fairly early stages of construction, it held the promise of being grandiose. Hollow in its cylindrical center, the city was built in a series of balconies and plateaus with rooms carved directly inside the wall faces. A massive waterfall faced the elevator, the water falling into a large pond that surrounded a grand plaza in the middle.
A number of staircases, cleverly camouflaged with optical illusions and hovering platforms, led to the various elevations. If not for the trio of Scelks climbing those stairs, I never would have noticed them. A soft, peaceful glow lit the city, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint where it emanated from. Then again, I was too enthralled by the sight of dozens of hybrids, flying around en route to whatever business called them. A pair or two hovered in place while having a discussion, and a small flock of pre-teen hybrids flew in formation behind an adult leading them towards a large tunnel into another section of the city.
“It would have taken us another five years to complete the work,” Rogue said, visibly pleased by my awed expression. “Between scavenging for materials and equipment without getting caught and sneaking away for short periods to do the work without raising suspicions, it had become increasingly difficult of late.”
“Getting your hands on what you need could be easier if you joined the Coalition,” I said in the least subtle of hint-hints.
“It would be,” he said enigmatically, sustaining my gaze.
Rogue took me the long way around to Bane’s quarters, located at the top terrace on the wall left from the fountain.
“Forgive its current state,” Rogue said apologetically. “Varnog only arrived here a couple of days ago with our belongings. We evacuated our previous homeworld Umbra while we were coming to free our mothers.”
“Varnog?” I asked.
“The Scelk leader,” Rogue explained. “He is loyal and will only harm our enemies,” he added, noticing my discomfort at the mention of the species that had nearly wiped out our Janaur mission.
I nodded, slightly embarrassed for my lack of stoicism. He smiled without the slightest condemnation in his eyes. After I declined his offer of food and refreshment, Rogue took his leave, and I gave the five-room suite—including a full bathroom—a brief exploration. The place was still rough. Two of the rooms were empty but for a couple of crates and a portable military bed folded on top of one of the containers. The scarce furniture in his large bedroom comprised of an imposing bed, a set of nightstands, and a matching dresser. The exquisite craftsmanship on them took my breath away. In a clever mix of soft and hard, metal and wood, the intricate motifs carved on them actually revealed Gomenzi Dragons, in whole or in part, in various poses.
I instinctively knew Bane had made them himself. That tickled me pink, considering I had a strong artistic sense myself and loved crafting things, be they functional or decorative, with glassblowing.
The last room in the suite was clearly Bane’s office. A second desk had been quickly put together. Atop it, the computer they’d let me use over the few days of our journey here beckoned me. To my surprise—and utter delight—a few fresh changes of clothes had been neatly folded next to the computer. There were three monochromatic dresses and a couple of leggings and tank tops. I didn’t know where they’d found the latter two, but the dresses were clearly of Janaurian design.
Not knowing when Bane would return, I decided to take a quick shower before donning one of the dark grey dresses. I then settled down to work. Chaos would reach us in the morning, and I wanted to set a few things in motion before he arrived to facilitate the discussions that would inevitably follow.
Number one task was to send a detailed status report to Chaos and Legion about things here on Arkonia. I especially wanted to prepare Chaos before his arrival as I knew he would insist on seeing the mothers. But I also wanted to plant the seeds of a proper integration of the hybrids into the Coalition, and maybe even into the Vanguard.
Arkonia was a harsh planet and fairly isolated. From what little I’d seen so far, I presumed that their rushed exodus had left them deprived of a number of basic necessities. Furthermore, whatever resources they currently possessed would soon be depleted unless trade agreements could be set in place. But that brought us back to the fact that the planet was not only in the boonies but also located far too close to Kryptid space. Few allies would want to come here. With their total population barely over a thousand, their needs wouldn’t justify the transport cost of goods to Arkonia.
There was only one obvious solution, but one that the Coalition would balk at.
For that reason, I also sent a copy of my report to Ayana. On top of holding Bane in high esteem, Legion’s mate was earning treme
ndous respect in the diplomatic circles throughout the allied planets. If not for her being the most powerful Portal of the Vanguard—and the most powerful human psychic in our history—she would have been assigned an Ambassador role a long time ago.
I kept the report factual, merely flagging the issues that would be talking points, but avoided making recommendations that would definitely be perceived as biased in light of my blossoming relationship with Bane. Anyway, with her great compassion, Ayana would reach the same conclusion I was hoping for and would fight for it with her usual passion. She’d been the first to figure out the hybrids would see humans as their people—and not the Kryptids—because of the loving bond they would have formed with their mothers during gestation. To Legion’s dismay, she’d ever since become the hybrid’s greatest defender and advocate.
Just as I was hitting the ‘send’ button, the bedroom door opened. Looking over my shoulder, I waited patiently to see Bane walk up to the entrance of the office. He stopped as soon as he crossed the doorway, staring at me with a calm expression on his face, although an aura of sadness still lingered around him.
I realized I’d risen to my feet and walked towards him when Bane lifted his hands to pull me into his embrace. He leaned down to give me a gentle, tender kiss, devoid of the passion that had animated him earlier. Lifting me up so that our faces would align, Bane rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. I slipped fingers through his hair and closed my eyes as well, savoring the moment of tenderness. Expanding my consciousness, I brushed his psychic mind with a gentle caress.
“My Queen,” Bane whispered, his arms tightening around me.
He opened his eyes and looked at me as if I was the most beautiful creature in the universe. Turning around, he carried me into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and settled me on his lap.
“My brothers assumed you would share my quarters,” Bane said in a soft voice. “I would like it if you did, but should you prefer quarters of your own, I will honor your wish.”
