by Reagan Woods
Keble snorted. “No.”
“We’re going to need more Warriors.” Calyx was already planning for the worst as he began to make his way across the camp.
“You said it,” Keble agreed. “All’s quiet in the Earther yard now, though.”
“Thanks for the update. I’ve got a meeting this afternoon with the Commander,” Calyx told him, waving down Tara outside her dormitory. “I’ll put in the request for help.”
“Calyx!” Over the past few days, faint worry lines had taken up residence between her finely arched brows and he wanted to run his fingers over them until they disappeared.
“It’s been a while.” She twisted her fingers together as he approached, eyes scanning over his face in that way she had of making him feel seen. “How are you?”
“I’ve missed your smiling face,” he told her honestly, waiting as her slow smile bloomed. “My day is much better now.”
Dusky color flooded her pretty, round cheeks. “You’re such a flirt,” she groused, biting her lower lip with small white teeth. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
She drew him like a magnet with her sweet demeanor and curvy body. If he thought it was permissible, he’d push her up against the side of the modular building and see if he could arouse her as thoroughly as he had in the General’s quarters. They had things to work out between them, first. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he would find a way to make her his and keep her interest.
With a quick hand motion, Calyx signaled the nearby sentry that he was taking Tara with him. “Walk with me.” When she placed her small hand in his, it did funny things to his heart.
“Um…okay.”
He matched his longer strides to hers, content to savor the precious moments in silence. He led her through the security check points without issue.
“Where are we going?” She asked curiously.
“In our search, we came across a few plots of cultivated land that aren’t on the camp’s plans,” he relayed, tightening his grip on her small hand when she would have withdrawn. “No one is claiming responsibility for the crops. Commander Skylan thought you might want to check if it is anything you can use in the kitchen.”
Tara seemed to relax into their excursion the further from the center of camp they travelled, her fingers twined with his contentedly. “I knew some of the Doranos overseers were modifying Earth food for various reasons. I didn’t know where they were growing it,” she admitted. “I don’t get out of the kitchen often.”
“You’ll have more free time now. They’re temporarily curtailing the reconditioning program,” Calyx observed.
A full-body shudder wracked her as he pulled her through the final guarded gate between the camp proper and the grazing lands. “It’s just as well.” Her tone was neutral. Too neutral. “Those sessions were getting pretty sketch.”
“Wait.” He held up a finger when they’d cleared the gate. “I have a map.” It took only a moment to consult the small screen he dug from his pocket. “Alright. It’s this way. How were the sessions er – ‘sketch?’”
“You know how it works, right?” She asked skeptically, following him as he began tromping through the longer grasses earmarked for harvest.
The grass, some type of cattle food, covered small dips and holes in the ground making walking treacherous. “In theory,” he agreed, taking her hand again. “I don’t have firsthand knowledge. Tell me about it from your perspective.”
“It basically fuses memories of your loved ones with alien faces, places and traditions and forces you to accept a…new version of old memories. It’s quite the mindfuck.”
Why had he never thought to ask her about this before? It was obvious she had deep feelings on the topic of reconditioning.
“For instance,” she went on, “it tried to convince me that Grandmama wanted me to be a Doranos bed slave until I was too old to attract a male any longer. After that, Grandmama promised, I would be free to serve as a household slave only.” She wasn’t being ironic, Calyx realized.
Calyx pulled her to a stop in the middle of the green field, unable to believe what he was hearing. He knew several Warriors had accused Dorit and a few other Doranos of meddling with the reconditioners, but he had no idea this kind of abuse of power was involved. “Are you – are you serious?” He asked, noting the angry color in her cheeks and her narrowed eyes. “That’s sick.”
She snorted expressively. “Tell me about it.”
“Just how many females did they run that scenario on?” He wondered aloud.
“Everyone I know.”
Chapter 27
“There’s nothing wrong with looking at the world through rose colored glasses long as you keep the lenses clean,” Grandmama used to say. “That Pollyanna attitude made you a joy to rear, girl, but it’s annoying as hell sometimes, too.”
Tara chewed her lip as she wondered how her determination to have a happy outlook had made her turn a blind eye to the wrongs perpetrated upon herself and her people. Calyx’s stunned anger drove home that she should have complained about the gross scenarios in the reconditioner. She’d chalked the gag-worthy ‘lessons’ up to massive cultural differences – no matter how abusive the expectations. Franny, Marta and the other women had had the right of it; the work camp wasn’t as safe as Tara wanted to believe.
If she looked at things clearly, she had to admit that she was one of the few Earthers in a position to bring the truth to light. At any point, she could have told Calyx – or one of the permanently stationed Warriors like the medics – what was going on. She saw these alien men every day. It would have been perfectly acceptable to start a dialogue about next steps and culture shock. She didn’t have to float the idea that the women in the camp were being groomed for sexual slavery right out of the gate. That was something she could have worked up to. But, to her shame, she hadn’t done it.
Tears of regret burned her eyes as she stared down at the grass swaying gently around her claves. If the earth opened and swallowed her whole right now, she’d be more than fine with it.
“Tara, look at me,” Calyx’s gruff voice demanded.
Warm hands cradled her face, lifting her chin. Pewter eyes snagged her gaze and held her there, pinned. “None of this is your fault,” he said the words clearly and confidently. “Make no mistake, the people that tried to condition you to accept abuse are the people at fault.”
It was a valid point, but it didn’t alleviate the waves of self-loathing that swamped her. “Why do I feel so terrible, then?” Her voice cracked, and her nose burnt as she tried to blink her vision clear. Fat, hot tears spilled over her lashes and rolled down her cheeks.
His mouth hardened into a forbidding slash before he answered, “I suspect the reconditioner implanted a subliminal message to keep you from talking about your experiences. It should wear off in a few days. Commander Skylan will want to speak with you about all of this.”
“That’s just dandy.” She stepped away and used the hem of her shirt to dry her eyes. Crying sucked. Crying in front of Calyx unnerved her. Pretending interest in the sky above, she did a one eighty and muttered, “I don’t think the conviction that I betrayed my friends is going to vanish overnight.”
“You haven’t betrayed anyone,” Calyx growled impatiently, his hand at her elbow urging her to turn and face him. “That’s typical divide and conquer mind control. You aren’t the betraying type.”
Tara rolled her eyes. She was trying to rein in her emotions, and he was not helping. “We both know you don’t believe that.”
One moment, he was her friend Calyx, and the next, a dangerous, predatory alien studied her through hard quicksilver eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His freezing tone made her shiver.
Jerking her arm free, she chafed her biceps until her gooseflesh subsided. “Have you forgotten you practically called me a slut a few nights ago? Really?”
“I did no such thing,” he bit off each word precisely. It was clear he was scouring his memories
of their interactions for the offending event. His scowl was a dead giveaway that he realized what she was talking about. “I simply pointed out that your reaction to me might not be… unique.”
“And you believe that my hormones will somehow override my good sense. Here on Earth, we call that being a slut,” she explained, voice dripping faux sweetness. “Slutting around behind someone’s back is betrayal. Do I need to paint you a picture or are you getting it now?”
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Calyx sighed. “I admit I didn’t explain my concerns very tactfully. I’m sorry for that.”
“Oh, I think you explained it just fine,” she drawled, hands on her hips as she prepared to do battle. “So, you can shove that apology where the sun don’t shine.”
It took him a moment to puzzle out her meaning, but he was spitting mad when he did. Eyes slitted in displeasure, he mirrored her challenging stance. “That is rude and completely disrespectful!”
“So is your insistence that I can’t control my- my- my urges,” she screeched. Standing on her toes, she waved a finger beneath his nose. “Haven’t I kept my distance since you explained your concerns?”
He gripped her accusing finger, incensed. “Because we’ve spent so little time alone!” He bellowed back, nostrils flaring. “And I’ve made sure we were outside in a well-ventilated area!”
They stood practically nose-to-nose, him looming, and her head tipped back awkwardly. Each refused to give. Tara knew they must be providing the Warriors on the gates with endless entertainment, and it struck her funny bone.
“What!?!” Calyx sputtered. “What’s so funny?”
“I was half-naked in bed with you not all that long ago.” She chuckled darkly, easing away from the angry giant as she began to demolish each of his points. “We were alone and indoors.”
Hands fisted in his hair, he spun away. “You’d just been traumatized!”
“Or maybe you’re not as irresistible as you think.” It was a low blow, delivered with all the coolness she could muster.
Calyx’s handsome jaw hung open. Mission: Accomplished. Mentally clapping the dust from her hands, Tara decided a change of subject was in order. “Now, why don’t we finish that tour you promised?”
They tramped along in tense silence for about fifteen minutes. A few times, she thought he might speak, but he must have thought better of it. It was just as well because she was feeling volatile and violated – it was a bad combination.
“There!” He pointed, clearly relieved to be at their destination.
When she caught sight of the bounty of plants under the smaller energy field, Tara’s eyes bugged from her head. “Turnips, carrots, more potatoes, spinach, is that…broccoli? Calyx.” She spun to face him, determined. There was no way to right the obvious wrongs she’d done by not speaking up about the reconditioners, but she could be more vocal about the things her people needed. “We have to have a serious talk. This food could go so far.”
An unexpected noise drew her attention to a more traditional type of enclosure. Curious, she walked toward the wire dome. “Wow! Are those chickens?”
“Umm.” He snuck a peek at the camp plans, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he read. “Chickens. Yes.”
“This is ridiculous! Why don’t we have eggs each morning?” Nearby, an animal bleated, and she spun, eyes wide with disbelief. “We have sheep, too? Look at them all! I’m killing myself trying to get enough calories and protein in people every day and we have this…this…this!” It was almost like walking into a dreamscape chalked full of unimaginable bounty. “Can we go in there?”
Calyx gave her a considering look. “Alright. Let’s go,” he agreed as he brought the energy barrier surrounding the distant herd down and pulled her across before promptly restoring it.
“I have no idea how you did that,” she acknowledged, tromping through the shorn grass toward the animals. “But thank you.”
They reached the outliers and Tara paused to take a deep breath of air redolent with green grass and animal manure.
“I’ll find out who is administrating all of this now that so many key Doranos personnel are…gone.”
She frowned, a particularly ugly scenario playing in her mind. After the last several days, she had to ask, “Have you been keeping us weak on purpose?”
Something dark and determined flashed in his eyes. “I can’t speak for everyone,” he answered, fists going to his hips. “But I certainly haven’t.”
Impatiently, she waived a hand. “I didn’t mean you personally,” she said by way of apology. “I’m not trying to start another fight.” Her mind was already busily calculating. They needed a skilled butcher…
A hand on her forearm brought her out of her head. “What?” She frowned at his intense expression.
“I have no wish to be at odds with you, either,” he said earnestly. “I only want you to be safe and healthy. If I had realized you were hungry, Tara, I would have fed you. Please believe that.”
Sighing, Tara closed her eyes briefly. They were from such radically different places it was amazing they managed to communicate at all. She needed to remember that she wasn’t the only one traveling an uncharted path. Calyx was trying his best to be her friend and treat her right using the only standard he knew.
“Don’t be alarmed,” she advised lightly. “But I’m going to hug you now. This is your chance to back away.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, his chuckle held a note of relief. When he hugged her back, she snuggled in, reveling in the comfort his strong body offered. He might be an arrogant ass, but she still loved him. For a moment, she soaked in the pure bliss of touching him, however innocently. To her endless regret, the tingles skating over her skin triggered a flashing yellow caution light in her head.
Stepping quickly away, she forced a tight smile. “It seems weird that there’s so much here – literally there are thousands of animals.” She spun in a slow circle, taking it all in. “And I’m begging for enough meat to make a watery stew.”
“Now that the reconditioners aren’t a requirement, maybe we can ask Commander Skylan to direct some of your fellow Earthers’ free time toward getting things better organized,” Calyx murmured, a speculative gleam in his eye.
“That would be fantastic!” Tara hadn’t made headway with Calyx today and that hurt her heart. At least, she could stand tall knowing she was doing her best both for herself and her fellow Earthers.
Chapter 28
Francesca
“We have to get you some clothes,” Fran told her companion as they took turns sipping from her canteen.
He grunted acknowledgement but wasn’t too concerned if the way he sprawled across the low rock, legs spread with his considerable junk on display, was any indication. To drive his utter lack of interest home, he rested his head against the rock wall at his back and closed his eyes.
The temperature inside the rocky gorge hovered somewhere between ninety degrees Fahrenheit and hell. If she wanted to put distance between herself and the CGA work camp, the deep fissure was the safest way to travel by day – according to her companion. Fran had to admit, he had some skill at the whole survival thing.
Initially, she’d believed helping the handsome, wounded stranger was a one-way ticket back into alien custody. Imagine her surprise when she’d wakened after a long night of dragging his big ass to find him completely healed and calmly roasting duck over a low fire.
Yeah, dude wasn’t quite human. Other than the unnatural healing ability, he should have passed. He was tall, over six-foot, with muscles in all the right places covered by skin that shaded more au lait than café. His smile was something out of a pre-war, pre-alien toothpaste ad. Real dreamy, if good looking underwear models were your thing. It was the unblinking way his dark eyes seemed to see everything at once that ruined the illusion of humanity.
His English was impeccable, and he had a working knowledge of acceptable behavior. Clothing was the one social contract he adamantly re
fused to keep. It made her uncomfortable, which seemed to be a source of great amusement for him.
She didn’t know what he was – or why he stayed with her when she packed up camp and kept walking, but she figured he would tell her what he wanted her to know in his own time. He hadn’t made any violent moves, had thanked her for her assistance, and seemed content to follow where she led. For now.
Several times over the last few days, she’d tried to get him to answer basic queries. He adamantly refused to answer questions of a personal nature. Eventually, she gave up.
“Tell me more about this plan of yours,” he spoke suddenly without opening his hypnotic (if creepy) eyes.
They were currently resting, the sun far enough across the sky to afford them a bit of shade along one wall of the canyon.
Twisting the cap back on her canteen, Fran stowed it away before answering, “There’s not much to tell. I need to get inside the other CGA work camps, so I can find my sister.”
“Your sister…” He opened his eyes and cocked his head as though listening to something she couldn’t hear. After a moment, he asked, “She is like you?”
Fran’s hackles rose. “She’s nothing like me.” GoGo was soft and sweet and innocent. With any luck, her inherent shyness had kept her from drawing pervy alien attention.
A faint, patronizing curl of his lips accompanied his response. “Alright. What is she like, then?”
“She’s young,” Fran answered with a growl, her protective instincts triggered by his interest. Rising, she dusted her hands over the seat of her black pants and reached for her pack. “I’ve got to get moving.”
“Yes, well.” He yawned hugely showing his bright white teeth – did they look sharper than before? Lean muscles rippled as he extended in a full-body stretch. “This is where we part ways.” With a put-upon sigh, he scratched one hand lightly over his eight-pack.
“O-kay,” she agreed warily. “Thanks for the company. Good luck to you.”
