by Alana Khan
I tenderly remove the hundreds of tiny Neytiri braids from her hair, then brush it. If she was awake she’d love it and melt into the mattress. Now, though, she’s unresponsive.
I tell her stories of giants and eflongs from my childhood. She asked me to do that once. I know she can’t hear me, but I feel better, deluding myself that I’m providing comfort. The only other thing I can do is wait.
Usually, a Zinn’s life all but stops when he’s on his Quest. There’s minimal contact with family and no communication with job or friends. A Zinn’s sole focus is on completing the Quest and returning with a bride. But now that I’m back on Zinn, I check in with my parents more regularly. They’re supportive, and right now I need their encouragement.
I also contact my best friend, Lann. He turns thirty-five in three months and hasn’t won the lottery. We both know his chances at a bride are nil. The night before I left on the Drayant he hugged me and sincerely wished me the best. He sounds almost as heartbroken about Victoria’s illness as I am.
Victoria gasps. My gaze flies to her face. Her eyes flit back and forth under her eyelids; she wasn’t doing that before.
“Doc!” I call over the comm.
“Her temperature’s spiked. Put her under the cooling blanket.”
He tells me where the blankets are kept, and I cover her with a thin silver one that has cooling properties. Within minutes her vitals improve.
For the next several hours she cycles from stable to what the doctor calls ‘crashing’. My heart feels like it’s being crushed inside my chest every time she takes a turn for the worse.
Fate can be cruel. The last few months have been a tumult of ups and downs. Dreaming all my life of winning the lottery with little hope, then winning it. Having Victoria experience bliss in my arms, yet calling me a purple asshole in her waking and sleeping hours.
Her rejection was the ultimate irony because while she was reviling me I was falling in love with her. That was agony, although I never let her know.
Then the last few days she’s been so compliant, so eager to share sex with me, and we’ve had fun together. That was a surprise. Now this. My chest is tight; my heart is breaking.
She’s been groaning and thrashing for the last half hour. Dr. Plenn informed me this was a good sign, he speculated that her brain is returning to full function. I’m not sure the male has any idea what he’s doing, but no one else had any better ideas about how to treat my Victoria.
“Owww.” She’s groaning louder. I don’t know whether she’s getting better, or on the precipice of death.
“Hot,” she says in a long moan.
She said a word, that’s got to be a good sign, right? I throw another cooling blanket on her and wipe her brow with a cool washcloth. Her temperature slides down a few degrees.
Her eyes fly open, she looks straight at me and I’ve never been so relieved in my life. My Victoria’s back to life!
She shrieks. Loud and long. Her weak little limbs scrabble back as she tries to move away from me. I leap up and run to the side of her bed so she doesn’t fall onto the floor.
The machines are screaming, I glance up to see all the readouts are now flashing red.
“It’s okay, Victoria, you’re going to be okay.”
She screams again, her eyes flared wide, her heels propelling her body away from me. Then her eyes flutter, she licks her lips, and she crumples back on the bed.
“I gave her a sedative through her IV,” Plenn informs me over the comm.
I use bed sheets as soft restraints and tie her hands and feet to the bed. I don’t want her to hurt herself when she wakes again. Dear Gods, I hope she does wake again.
An hour later, she wakes and finds her arms and legs bound to the bed.
“Don’t hurt me. Don’t touch me,” she says through parched lips. She’s so weak, she only fights her bonds for a moment before her head drops onto her pillow.
“You’re safe Victoria. You were sick but you’ll be better in no time.” I try to smooth her parched lips with a cool washcloth, but she shakes her head and snaps, “Who the fuck are you? Where am I?”
My stomach clenches and my head jerks back in shock. She doesn’t know me. Although I’m surprised and sad, she must be panicked. She’s inches from a big, purple alien in a room out of a science fiction movie.
“You’re safe, Victoria. Safe.” I put my arms up, palms toward her. “No one wants to hurt you. You’re in a hospital room. You were very ill, but you’re better now.”
“Oh, I’m dreaming,” she says, then bites her bottom lip so hard she yelps. “I’m not dreaming. Who the fuck are you?”
She’s not going to take this well, no better than the first time, but she needs to know.
“I’m Voxx. You’re on my planet, Zinn. You’ve had an allergic reaction, that’s why you’re in a hospital. But the worst is over.”
“Could you untie me?”
I untie her right hand, then step back assuming she’s going to hit me. She scratches her nose, but I’m wondering if that’s a ploy.
She looks around the room, inspecting it in minute detail, then she turns her gaze to me, looking me up and down and up again.
“This isn’t a dream? I’m not being punked?”
“Sorry, no.”
“Why am I on planet Voxx?”
“I’m Voxx, you’re on planet Zinn.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She’s not going to take this well. I think for a long moment, trying to concoct a good lie to tell her, one where I’m not the big, purple asshole who stalked and abducted her. I can’t think of anything that will give me plausible deniability.
Reluctantly, I tell her about her abduction and the Interstellar Compact.
She’s crying. Tears are sliding out of the corners of her eyes and down her temples to the bed. She’s sick and tired and all her fight has drained out of her like her tears falling on the sheets.
“I’m well now?”
“You just woke up, but I think you'll be okay.” That’s what I hope, but I don’t know for certain.
“Can you take me home?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Why? Because I have five more days to complete the Quest. I don’t want to say that; she’ll hate me for it.
“Earth doesn’t have the technology to deal with your illness. The doctor will want you to stay on Zinn for a few days to make certain you don’t relapse.” Although it’s not fully the truth, it’s not exactly a lie.
“So after a few days, I can go home?”
“You have five more days until Choosing Day. At that point, the law dictates you get to choose.”
The weak, helpless Victoria is gone. She firms her jaw and spears me square in the eye. “You’re the big, purple asshole who stole me to be his bride. I want you gone. I don’t ever want to see your face again. Let me talk to the doctor. As soon as I’m better, I want to go home.”
The doctor enters the negative-airflow of the chryso chamber through the two sets of pneumatic doors. The process takes over a minute, I’m glad I was in here with her when she needed me immediately.
“Hello Victoria.” He nods his head, keeping his distance. Although he’s a doctor, the Zinn prohibition against touching a female other than your mate overrides all but the most necessary treatments.
“Your vitals are better,” his voice is deeper and more commanding than I’ve heard him before. “We’ll watch you for a few more hours. If all is well, you can leave for Voxx’s house at that time.
“I believe we’ve cured the illness. I don’t think you’ll need regular inoculations to stave off a recurrence. However, we’ll keep your med-band on your wrist and we’ll monitor you remotely. If any of your vitals change for the worse, I’ll comm you immediately.
“The different oxygen to nitrogen ratio between Zinn and Earth is negligible. It should pose no problem now that you’re stronger.
“I have no prediction regarding your me
mory loss Miss Franklin. I believe it’s a reaction to the stress your body’s been under for the past few days. I don’t know when or if you’ll recover your memory.
“It’s just as well.” She spears me with a look of pure hatred. “I probably want no memory of what he did to me over the last nine days. I refuse to go with him. I’ll stay in this hospital until I’ve served my time,” her voice is more angry and indignant than I’ve ever heard it.
I try to keep my facial expression flat while Victoria argues with Dr. Plenn, but my emotions are spinning. Victoria and I were forging a relationship. She had let go of her hatred and was welcoming me into her heart. I’ve admitted to myself how much I love my little Earther.
It’s Day Nine and we’re back at square one. Even knowing everything I know about her—and I know all her weaknesses—I won’t be able to turn her feelings around in five days.
“I’m afraid it won’t be possible for you to stay in the hospital until Choosing Day, Miss Franklin,” Dr. Plenn’s voice is calm and firm.
“Why?” she asks petulantly.
“Your insurance won’t cover you after your vitals return to normal. Perhaps you have friends or family you could stay with?”
“Yeah, back on Earth.” Her brow furrows, then her muscles slacken. Her anger disappears, replaced by sadness.
I’ve got to give credit to Dr. Plenn, the comment about insurance was sheer genius. Every Zinn male studies English and learns all they can about American culture in preparation for their own Quest if they’re lucky enough to win the lottery. We don’t have insurance on Zinn, everyone’s entitled to healthcare, but Victoria doesn’t know that. Well played, Plenn, well played.
Victoria
Part of me still thinks I’m dreaming. I mean, purple aliens? Planet Zinn? But this isn’t like any dream I’ve ever had, and it sure feels like my limbs are tied down.
“Okay, Voxx from Zinn. Little old me can’t fight you and all your big purple co-conspirators. Unless this is the world’s most elaborate hoax, I’m really on another planet. But if I’m clear about the rules of engagement, you have to let me go on day Fourteen. You have to know I won’t choose to stay.”
“Have you wondered what days one through eight were like for you, Victoria?”
My gaze veers from his. No, I haven’t given it a thought.
He leans down, his warm breath caressing my ear. “We’ve gotten to know each other,” he whispers. “Very well, in fact. I know how embarrassed you were about the blue dress in fifth grade. I know your fantasy about being under the desk of one of the partners in a law firm. I know the taste of your come on my tongue. And you know mine.”
How dare he talk to me like that? Fuck! Fuck him! How does he know those things? How could I have told him one of my most embarrassing moments? And why on Earth would I have told him my secret under-the-desk fantasy?
And why, I wonder, is my body responding as if he just plucked my nipples? No, not my nipples… my clit. Does he really know how I taste?
Embarrassment blazes along my veins, warming my cheeks even as my gaze flicks to his crotch, then back to his purple face. Shit, he saw that. And double shit, he’s grinning at me. No, it’s more like a leer.
I pull my mind out of the gutter and demand, “I need to read the Interstellar Compact.”
“Of course, barrister.”
Does he know everything about me? The prick. “We don’t call them that in America.”
“I know. I like to tease you.”
“I don’t know you, Voxx from Zinn. I don’t know how in eight days I went from being kidnapped to… knowing the taste of your sperm, but you said I’m on day nine. I have five more days. In that time we will not be teasing, we will not be discussing any more of my sexual fantasies, and we will not be exchanging bodily fluids. Am I clear?” Damn, my voice was bordering on hysterical and I really wanted it to sound haughty and commanding.
“You need to read the Compact,” his voice is flat.
Half an hour later, I’ve read and re-read the Interstellar Compact. Don’t get me started on the fact my government bartered my body for advanced weaponry. I’ll stew on that another day. The salient point here is that Voxx can really do anything he wants to me. Anything.
I’m still having trouble letting that fact sink in. Fourteen days of torture? What did my poor body and mind go through the last week that had me spilling the beans about my most private thoughts and memories? What has he done to me? As soon as I have a moment alone, I’m going to inspect my body for clues.
“Did you torture me, Voxx?”
His eyes flick up and to the right. Motherfucker. He did.
“Dr. Plenn and his staff are monitoring this room, Victoria. I’d be happy to discuss every aspect of our time together when we’re alone.”
“I hate you, Voxx. I don’t even know you and I hate you already. You kidnapped and assaulted me.”
When he doesn’t deny it, I know the assault part is true.
One thing is ironclad, though. In five days I’ll be back home.
“I’m happy to report,” Dr. Plenn’s voice booms over the intercom, “you’re free to leave. I’ve put something in your IV that should relieve any remnants of pain and added the smallest dose of a mild herbal stimulant to give you energy for the rest of the day. You may keep your hospital gown for your ride home.”
Lucky for me my ultra-chic hospital gown, although unattractive and shapeless, is not backless. I manage to leave the hospital with a tiny shred of dignity.
My senses are bombarded on the trip from the hospital to Voxx’s house. The sky is purple, well, lavender. The buildings are modern glass and metal, with purple people walking on clean streets and in well-groomed parks. We’re in what Voxx calls a hovercar, and there are lots of them skimming along the surface streets.
But I’m not really focusing on the view, I’m riveted on the male sitting next to me. I'm wondering how I’m going to get out of this mess and return to Earth.
“You’ll really send me home?”
“Yes, on Choosing Day, if that’s what you want. It’s ironclad, monitored by your government.”
“Okay.” I’m still thinking of how to return early. Maybe I could jump out the next time he stops.
“Every Zinn knows how important Earth females are, Victoria. If you jump out of the hover, no one will give you aid. You’d be returned to me immediately. And I don’t want you to be harmed. Please don’t attempt it.”
“Do you read minds?”
“No, but that thought was pretty transparent.”
“I hate you, Voxx.”
“Here we are,” his tone is level.
We arrive at a gray and white house with pleasing angles and lots of windows. He parks the vehicle and helps me out. The interior is well organized and spotless—perfect, with not a thing out of place. You’d think the furniture would be larger, more to Voxx’s scale than mine. But one of the living room chairs looks comfy for someone my height. The room is decorated with clean lines and is in blues and yellows like my own apartment.
“I bought and prepared this house for you, Victoria. I chose the furniture for your comfort. When I left on my Quest, it was my fervent desire that you’d return here with me. I chose every aspect of this house with care, with you in mind.”
Poor baby won’t be so happy when he’s stuck with human-sized furniture and no human to live here.
“We need to go over the rules, then I’ll show you around.”
“I already reviewed the rules.”
“You reviewed the Compact rules, now you need to know the Voxx rules.”
I roll my eyes.
“No eye-rolling.”
“C’mon, seriously?”
“No eye-rolling, you must call me Sir, no profanity, and no clothes. There are more rules, but these will do for now.” He holds his hand out, palm up.
“What?”
“The gown.”
Oh, he’s appropriating Cinderella’s shapeless, sacklik
e gown the doctor so generously loaned me from the hospital.
“No.”
He glances at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes.
“I didn’t want to do it this way.” He bends next to me heaves his shoulder to my waist and hefts me up with no effort at all. I’m now folded over his shoulder as he carries me upstairs. I have to hand it to him, the bastard’s strong.
I know what’s usually upstairs in a two-story house. The bedrooms. Is he going to force me? Just like that?
