Chapter Nine
Over the next several days, Lana’s sickness gradually returned. First, with a nagging headache, followed by dizziness even while lying down, and eventually another full-blown migraine. She tried to hide it from Trask, who was busy with the mine investigation, but the only way she could was with medication. It helped because mostly what she did was sleep.
One morning, at the crack of dawn, Trask whispered goodbye with a soft kiss on her lips. Headed out to the mine, and the site of the explosion, he wasn’t expected home until late the next day. She must have been hiding her illness better than she thought because he wouldn’t have left her overnight if he knew it had come back.
Later, she was still dozing in and out, when she felt a presence by her bed.
“It’s almost time for the midday meal, and you’re still asleep. You’re also still sick.”
“Yes,” she muttered, “to both, now please go away.”
“I can’t. Jarlan told me to check on you, and if you weren’t better to bring you in.”
“No more tests.”
“Lana, if you don’t come with me he’ll go to Trask.”
“Don’t I get a say?”
“Yes.”
“I do?”
“Mm-hm,” she said as she strode to the closet. “You get to say which dress you wear today.”
“Funny,” she muttered. “What’s the use of more tests?” she asked despondently. “They’re always inconclusive. I want to stay here in bed and sleep.”
“You can’t sleep your life away.” Adria’s voice sounded muffled by the activation of the modular closet and Lana had to strain to hear the rest of her comment. “We have to be patient until Jarlan finds a cure.”
“But a cure for what?”
“We don’t know,” she stated as she exited holding a sapphire blue dress and soft-soled flats in a pretty dove gray. “That’s why you’re getting dressed and going to the clinic.”
“What happened to me getting to pick out my dress?”
She glanced down at the stunning gown. “You don’t like it?”
“That’s not the point.”
Adria rolled her eyes, a habit, unfortunately, she had acquired from her.
Lana glared at her. “Some friend you turned out to be. You’re worse than Trask. At least he’s sweet to me.”
Adria burst into laughter. “I’ve been here when you’re being stubborn. He threatens to spank you, at least I won’t do that. I’m not above wrestling you into this dress, however. So, what’s it going to be?” She raised the hand with the dress. “Easy, or hard? And let me remind you, I’m bigger than you.”
“News flash, Adri, 99 percent of everyone on the planet is bigger than me.”
She arched a black brow and pointed out, “Yet you keep arguing.”
“Has anyone told you your bedside manner needs work?” Far from feeling her best, she forced herself to sit up on the edge of the bed, resigned to another session of poking and prodding.
They didn’t walk this time; Lana was too weak. Instead, a white-shirted man in a hovercraft took them the few short blocks. At the clinic, Jarlan and a host of his associates, Adria included, came in and asked her a million and one questions, then proceeded to poke, prod, and scan her thoroughly. They also collected more samples, including swabbing her mouth.
As they filed out, leaving her with only Trask’s sister who was busily entering information on a tablet, she asked hopefully, “Can I go home now? The fresh air on the ride over helped. When I get back, I’m moving to the patio, permanently.”
“You’ll have to tell me how that idea goes over with my brother. But before you try it.” Adria held up a clear plastic cup. “Do I need to explain what this is for?”
“No, I know the drill.” Lana sat up and swung her feet over the side of the exam table. When her head didn’t swim, she prepared to ease herself down.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She looked from the cup in her hand to her frowning face. “Um, to the bathroom?”
“Not by yourself you aren’t. I’ll take you.”
“You are not going to watch me pee in a cup.”
“I’m not going to watch, only make sure you get there safely.”
Tired of being treated like an invalid—even though she had pretty much been one lately—she stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. “I can walk.”
“You could also fall on your face, and I’d have to explain to my large, rather intimidating, and sometimes scary brother why his mate has a broken nose. No thanks.”
“Fine. Then I don’t have to go.”
She propped her hands on her hips. "Now you're just acting stubborn.”
“Am I? Or maybe I’m dehydrated from being sick.”
Adria's exasperation was evident in her narrow-eyed glare. “No wonder my brother so often threatens to spank you.”
A knock on the door paused their argument.
She put down her tablet and went to open the door. Lana watched as she spoke with a young man in a black-and-white tunic, like the one her current tormenter wore. Okay, that wasn’t nice, she was only trying to help.
“Jarlan has ordered an Optimed treatment for Lana. He wants to go over the particulars with you first.”
Surprise registered on her friend’s face. “She doesn’t have a wound. Why would he order that?”
The young man glanced her way then back at Adria, giving her a shake of his head, which was far from discreet. “He thinks it may be of benefit.”
Translation: Jarlan was out of ideas and grasping at straws.
“Please tell him I’ll be right there.”
When he left, Lana looked at Adria expectantly. “What’s this Optimed, a last-ditch effort? You seemed surprised by the suggestion.”
She had equal parts concern and bewilderment in her eyes when she answered. “I am. It’s a healing accelerator for wounds and broken bones. I’ve never heard it used for symptoms like yours, but I won’t know what he's thinking until I speak with him.”
“Will it hurt?”
“No, Lana,” she rushed to reassure her. “It’s painless, quite harmless actually, and remarkably beneficial for…”
“Wounds and broken bones, which I don’t have. But since it won’t hurt, I guess it’s worth a try, right?” She didn’t like the strained look on Adria’s face. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I hope you were kidding about being claustro—Uh…”
“Claustrophobic,” Lana supplied, while dread began to tighten in her chest.
“Right, that. You’ll have to lie perfectly still in a long, enclosed cylinder for nearly a full time-cycle.”
Which on Primaria was roughly equivalent to one Earth hour, about fifty-nine minutes more than she could bear.
“Of course, I will,” she muttered. “Because things keep getting better and better.”
“Jarlan’s waiting. I need to speak to him. Maybe he’ll explain his rationale further.” She gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be okay, Lana. I feel sure of it, once we figure this out.” She spun to the door, calling over her shoulder. “I’ll bring you some water, so we can get the specimen when I get back.”
After she left, Lana counted to ten then stood up, slowly. When the room didn’t spin, she grabbed the cup.
“I’ve had enough humiliation for a lifetime,” she said as she moved to the door. “I’m not adding this to it.”
Lana had no trouble finding the facilities and doing her business, but on the way back she identified a tactical mistake in her mini-rebellion. She should have noted her room number. Everything down the long corridor was white, and each door looked identical. She knew her room was on the right, but with so many of them, she didn’t have a clue which one it was.
Halfway down, she stopped in front of one then looked at the doors on either side of it—all one and the same. She glanced back the way she had come, hoping to find someone to help, but the hallway was empty—much different from the last time she’d been here. She stared at the door in front of her again. Did she knock and possibly interrupt another patient, or stand in the middle of the hall like an idiot, a cup of pee in her hand?
The door slid open right then, and an older man came rushing out. She jumped out the way in time to keep from getting flattened. He skidded to a halt as surprised as she was.
“I’m sorry, my dear. I was in a hurry and not paying any mind.”
“No worries,” she told him. “But perhaps you could help me. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten which room I’m in.”
“If you’re the general’s mate, this is it.”
She peered at him—white hair and beard, wearing long white robes. What was an elder doing in her exam room? Glancing past him, she didn’t see anything to clue her in.
He answered her unspoken question by opening his hand to reveal what looked like a data stick. “I just uploaded your medical file from your ship for Jarlan. We had problems with the interface, and it took much longer than expected—days instead of hours. I apologize for the delay.”
His explanation didn’t clear up why he was working with her files. “Forgive me, but are you a physic? I thought only elders wore the robes.”
“You’re half-right. I sit on the council but have always had an interest in the healing arts. I volunteer my time here when I can. And with so many females coming in for testing and translator insertions, and with three expectant mates often in the clinic, it’s an exciting time, and I’m happy to help.” He paused, and his eyes dropped to her belly. “Is it possible the general has bred you? Oh, forgive me,” he said abruptly, laying his hand on her arm. “You humans prefer the term expecting. Isn’t that right?”
Lana was momentarily speechless. They were so cavalier about mating and bonding and breeding. In time, she might get used to being discussed like she was a mare at a stud farm, but not today. “I'm here for something else.”
“Oh,” he said as his face fell. “You and the general will have to keep trying.”
“Uh, well, yes...” she stammered, her face hot enough to fry eggs on now. “Did you say three human mates were expecting? I only knew about two. Do you mean three more or three total?”
He tilted his head and frowned. “I believe it's five in all, but that is speculation, which I shouldn’t be doing. As a volunteer, I'm not always kept-up-to-date with the latest details. Wouldn’t that be an answer to our prayers? Five successful matings out of eight, and in such a short time.”
“Yes, wonderful,” she muttered, not equaling a fraction of his enthusiasm.
“I must get back to my tasks, my dear. I wish you the Maker’s blessing for some good news soon.”
He moved on to the next room and with a swish of doors disappeared inside.
Lana stared after him a moment. For an elder, he wasn't at all like the staid, bound in tradition, sourpusses she believed them to be. Left a little dazed by their encounter, she entered her assigned room and put her cup on the counter trying to prepare herself for more bizarre events which always seemed to happen when she went beyond the safety of her general's arms or his residence.
A beeping drew her attention to the tablet on the other side of the sink. Glancing at the screen, she saw a warning box announcing an auto-lock countdown. The older man had forgotten to log out.
Curiosity got to her, and with only three seconds remaining, she touched the screen and stopped the clock. For some reason, guilt swept through her, and she hesitated, but only for a second. With her name at the top of the screen, she decided it was her record, and she had every right to look.
Below her name was a list of identifiers.
Sex: female, human
Family of origin: unknown, human
Mate: Trask of Valkerr
“Valkerr?” she wondered aloud. “Is that like a surname? Or where he was born?”
Eager to see what else she might find, she began scrolling and opening tabs. Much of it was blank or listed as unknown. When she clicked on the section labeled test results, she saw reports from today and weeks ago, while she was in the med-bay on the Reliant.
Mostly, it was rows of meaningless numbers and data points, and plenty of terms she didn't understand despite having a translator. Since it made little sense and she didn’t want to get caught snooping—was it snooping if it was her chart?—she was about to exit when she saw a section marked mate testing and breeding.
When she touched on it, a score appeared under the heading of compatibility—92 percent. Not bad at all. Then she noticed the rating of borderline below it.
“I’m beginning to hate that word,” she muttered.
The number must not mean what it did in her world. Frowning, she scrolled down. A summary of findings listed in bold print jumped out at her.
Biocellular match: weak positive
Bonding markers: 20th percentile.
Breeding probability: highly unlikely
Recommendation: reassignment, match not advised.
As she stared at the screen, the words blurred into a jumble of lines and dots.
“Stupid,” she whispered, wiping the tears from beneath her eyes with her fingers. This was nothing she didn’t already know, except ‘‘highly” modified unlikely, which was more dismal than before, and now she had a number to rate how unacceptable she was for Trask.
Deciding she’d had enough, she reached for the screen with shaky fingers, intent on returning it to its original setting, but two yellow triangles caught her eye. She hesitated, even though curiosity told her to look. Could she take more bleak predictors and depressing recommendations? But the news couldn’t be worse, so she had no place to go but up, right?
When she touched on one, she wasn’t surprised to see the data source listed as the USIF Odyssey Medical File for Lana Hartman, Ensign II. This was what the elder had uploaded. Of page upon page, only two were flagged with yellow triangles. She went directly to them.
The first was a discharge summary from Mercy Medical Center dating back to when she was five. She’d been treated there after the collision which killed both her parents and left her severely injured. Listed up front were her admitting diagnoses: puncture wound left abdomen, lacerated spleen, perforated bowel, and pelvic trauma with severe contusions. She glanced over the following pages filled with medical terminology and quickly moved onto the next yellow flag.
It was an operative report from the same hospitalization. The procedures performed included an exploratory laparotomy, splenectomy, and a left oophorectomy. Only certain of one, and guessing at another, the last leaving her completely clueless, Lana read on to learn they’d removed her severely damaged left ovary. The right one was left intact, but due to extensive trauma to the fallopian tube, she was expected to be—
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, wheezing as her windpipe constricted and trapped the air in her lungs. A painful spasm gripped her chest, and she had to grip the counter to keep from falling.
She looked at the screen again to be sure she’d read it correctly.
Infertile.
The awful word hadn’t changed in the last five seconds.
She dropped her hand to her belly, covering the scar she’d carried with her for twenty-two years. Why had no one had ever told her the extent of her injuries? But when?
Only a child at the time, and too sick to comprehend, she wouldn’t have anyway. She had very little memory of being there and no recollection of the surgery, only the scars to prove it had happened. Afterward, with no family to take her in, she’d been placed in foster care which had started years of bouncing from place to place. There was no one to explain the details of what had occurred, other than the first of many social workers. While in the system, she had minimal contact with physicians, except for annual checkups and visits for an occasional cough or a sore throat. The only physicals she’d had as an adult were for college, and when she’d entered the military, both cursory exams. She’d gone on birth control a decade ago even then no one had said a thing. Had they assumed she already knew or were they merely incompetent?
Suddenly her breeding probability went from highly unlikely—which still left a chance, no matter if it was slim—to an utterly hopeless, zero chance. She rubbed the pain building behind her temples. What to do?
This wasn't fair to Trask. The whole reason she was here was to breed. It brought back an argument from early on.
“I want only your happiness.”
“That isn’t quite true… You also want to breed with me.”
He hadn’t denied her words. “That is my most fervent wish.”
Sadly, with her as his mate, his wish would never come true. He knew the odds were long, but that was when he only had interspecies breeding obstacles to overcome. Over the past few weeks, news of fated mates, which they thought impossible between two different species, and two, maybe three, pregnancies so soon, made everyone hopeful integration with humans would be more successful than they dared to imagine. But in her case, Trask had gotten far less than he bargained for by choosing the dud in the lot of them.
Too bad after waiting twenty years, he hadn’t been patient a few weeks longer, when with nearly one hundred fifty more females in the database, and the thousands who would come under the new treaty, his odds would have been so much better.
Voices in the hall put her into a panic. She stared down at the report, the condemning word glaring back at her from the screen. Uploaded only minutes ago, no one knew except her. She made a split-second decision to remove the yellow flags which would bury the reports in hundreds of pages. Her fingers hovered over the tablet until she found the edit feature. Inside, she located the icon which would remove the flag, but she didn’t do it. Instead, she went a step further and deleted all the documentation from the hospitalization. Once done, she saved it and exited to the screen where she’d found it.
She took a step back, unsure what to do next. She had to think.
But first, she had to get out of there before she broke down. With tears rising in the back of her throat near to choking her, she rushed to the door and was out in the hall in a blink. She stopped short, seeing her captain with the commander. Lana frowned, noticing he had his arm around her waist. What had she missed while sick at home?
She looked for an escape path the other way, but Jarlan stood in a doorway, his back to her, conferring with another man in a black-and-white uniform. Torn between facing Jarlan who would steer her back to her room for more prodding—and stick her in a healing tube for an hour—or having to face her captain with tears threatening, she chose Maggie.
Dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, she took several silent gulps of air. With her head down, she moved quickly, thankful for her nearly soundless soft soled shoes. Maybe if she didn’t make eye contact, she could scoot out the main doors without anyone noticing. She was a few feet from her goal, almost home free.
“Lana!”
Glancing up, she skidded to a halt, seeing she should have been watching because she’d almost run over top of them and would have if the commander hadn’t hauled Maggie out of the way.
Damn. Why couldn’t she catch a freakin’ break?
“Pardon me!” she exclaimed. “My fault entirely.”
“Is everything all right?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, why do you ask? Did someone say something?” Lana said this sharply, which wasn’t like her, especially with her captain who she respected. It was a sign of her barely controlled emotions; one Maggie wouldn’t miss.
And she didn’t, blinking in surprise before she replied. “No, but you seem preoccupied. Were you here to see the doctor?”
“Yes, only for a routine check, though,” she offered quickly. “They have been doing extra tests on the new mates.” Never good at lying, her face flushed hotly, and observant as always, Maggie’s eyes narrowed.
“I need to get back. Trask will be expecting me.” She blurted out this vague excuse before her captain could question her further.
Roth promptly blew holes in her story, however. “I spoke to the general earlier today. He didn’t expect to finish at the mine site until late tomorrow. Didn’t he advise you of this, Trask’s mate?”
“Her name is Lana, Roth,” Maggie offered.
He responded with a brief nod. “I’m surprised Trask was lax in letting you know his schedule; among mates, that is very important.”
And he did, always, not that it mattered. Most mates had to worry about prolonged separations, and the sickness that would inevitably come, unless they were like she and Trask, a borderline low percentile match. “We aren’t fated, not like Eva and the Princep, so I hear. We’ve been apart for a week without any ill effects.” She couldn’t keep the sadness from creeping into her voice as presented more proof they weren’t meant to be.
She glanced up at Roth. As they all were, the commander was beyond handsome. He had brown-black hair and light-purple eyes, not like her general at all, except for his tall, muscular build. His air of authority and commanding voice when he spoke were almost identical, however. Her gaze returned to Maggie. She was petite, no more than a few inches over five feet, but no matter her size, as a captain, she could be as intimidating as the big Primarian by her side. They were so different outwardly, but seemed to match, somehow. Lana couldn’t tell from Maggie’s eyes, now a stunning violet, if they were fated, but she had a nagging suspicion, like Eva and Kerr, Mailynn and Krager, and Thora and Vardax their bond was well above the 20th percentile. And, it was highly unlikely, another term she was growing to hate, that any of the other women had a trauma in their past that rendered them physically unable to breed.
The same went for half the Odyssey’s crew, one hundred and fifty fertile women who had decided to stay on. With the new treaty, an influx of more potential mates was on the horizon, more strong bonds, some fated would take place. And, more babies. How would she bear to watch? More importantly, how would Trask?
It wasn’t fair, to her, not to him, and not to the Primarian people who needed this integration to be fruitful to survive. If Trask had only waited a few weeks, he wouldn’t be stuck with a broken mate like her, and she would be going home tomorrow.
Her heart twisted painfully knowing what she must do.
“Are you certain something isn’t amiss, Lana? The doctors didn’t find anything wrong, did they?”
“Not a thing,” she lied, too quickly and with too bright a fake smile, evidently, because Maggie gave her an odd look. She changed the subject abruptly, which wouldn’t make her captain any less suspicious but she needed information to formulate a plan. “You leave for Earth soon, isn’t that right, Commander?”
“We leave at dawn.” He also appeared put off by her sudden mood shift.
She nodded, glancing back at Maggie, whose frown didn’t stop her from questioning Roth further. “And you’re taking two ships, leaving only one to guard all of Primaria?”
Please, say yes. If she could somehow be aboard the Odyssey in the morning, they wouldn’t leave their planet unprotected to chase after one borderline, breeding unlikely, subpar mate—surely.
“If you are worried, Trask and his army have sufficient ground forces and advanced weapons to ward off any threats, as well as scores of fighter craft who constantly patrol, in addition to a fully capable battlecruiser. We can launch fighters from the air or the ground, both of which can respond in a matter of seconds. You won’t be left unprotected.”
Crap. She bit back her rising hysteria, and disappointment. If she couldn’t follow through with her half-baked plan, what would she do? She needed more details.
“Thank you, sir. I was a bit concerned when I heard the other ship, the In—um… something or other, I don’t recall the name, and yet another, was in for repairs.”
“The Reliant returned to full service this morning, or we wouldn’t be leaving, I assure you. Under no circumstances would we leave our planet and people so vulnerable. And the Intrepid should arrive home in about a week, which will double your protection.”
“Good to know,” she replied with a forced smile.
What she really wanted to do was curl into a ball on the floor. Could she bring herself to do what she was thinking?
This was the time to go, when they weren’t at full force. The problem remained, however. How to get on board the Odyssey without anyone knowing? And with the most challenging obstacle out of the way, how did she stay hidden long enough so if she were discovered, it would be too late for them to turn back.
“Lana—” her captain began.
She had to get out of there quick. Any more Q&A and she'd have a meltdown. She needed to go somewhere and think, to plan, to soul search, and, if she was brave enough to go through with this drastic half-baked plan which was starting to take shape in her mind, to leave Trask. Did she love him enough to set him free so he could one day have all that he wanted?
“I won’t see you for quite a while, Maggie. Can I have a hug?” Lana enveloped her before she could answer, taking what little solace she could when her embrace was returned.
If only I could go, too.
When she pulled away, she stiffened at the shocked look on her former captain’s face. Had she—?
No, she couldn’t have said it aloud.
Damn.
She had to go. Now!
“Bon voyage,” Lana said abruptly and whirled to leave. “I hate to run, but I remembered I’m late for something. Will you tell Jarlan for me?” She didn’t wait for a response, calling back over her shoulder as she reached the doors. “Best of luck with negotiations, Commander, and Captain.
As she left the clinic, she felt the heat of Maggie’s stunned gaze and Roth’s muttered, “She’s a bit odd.”
Lana wound her way through the downtown crowds, the hub around the capital center always busy. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, and with Trask not due back anytime soon, she didn’t have to. Besides, it would be the first place Adria looked, and she couldn’t face her again, and more pointless tests, not yet.
She walked for blocks until the crowds thinned. Near the edge of town, when the sidewalk ended, she climbed to the top of a small, grassy hill, taking a seat in the shade of a grouping of bright blue and yellow trees. Leaning her back against a trunk, she studied the two very different views her quiet refuge offered. The first, a picturesque panorama of Ariad and the mountains in the distance, and the other, the bustling shuttle port, nestled in a small valley amid rolling hills. She chose the latter, watching the aircraft come and go, carrying people to and from the city, and the world beyond the capital, she hadn’t had the chance to see.
Very rarely, a child would accompany the arrivals. There were so few amongst the dying race. From there her mind hopped to Mai and Thora, holding little dark-haired boys, or perhaps, blonde-haired girls like their mothers. Maggie’s child would have violet eyes, and Eva’s baby would have gold, her Princep mate’s genes being dominant, no doubt. It would be painful to visit her friends and see their joy. They’d be busy raising their families, while she would be… She couldn’t imagine what would occupy her days.
Without a career to fall back on, who would she be? She couldn’t go to work in the family business. Following Trask around on missions was out. Adria would be busy at the clinic. Where did that leave her?
And where did it leave Trask? As the only man among his fellow warriors who didn’t go home at night to a growing happy family, how long before he became bitter and grew to resent her? Wouldn’t it be better to end it now, after a few weeks, then endure years of disappointment?
If he knew there was no chance, he would be gallant and say it didn’t matter, when it did. Could she live with the guilt of depriving him of the gift of a child? And what of the joy of finding his true mate, one fated by their Maker to be the perfect match for him. He should have that chance as well.
Movement on her right caught her eye. A familiar figure was climbing the hill. Lana didn’t say a word as she approached and took a seat. After the last time, she really had nothing to say.
“I saw you sitting here and couldn’t go without clearing the air between us.”
“Go where?” she asked, unable to stay aloof.
“Home. I leave on the Odyssey tomorrow with the others.”
The redheaded chief was as stunning as ever, with flawless porcelain skin and the same bright blue eyes. There were no outward signs she had transformed as far as Lana could see.
“What about your mate, Eryn?”
“We aren’t mates, not even close.” She picked a handful of grass and let it idly sift through her fingers. “This was hard for me, Lana. I took it out on you, and the others, and Ram—mostly, Ram. Though he is hardly innocent in all of this and in my mind the end doesn’t justify the means.”
“Even when it fulfills our mission?” She couldn’t keep from asking, which circled back to how people, whether human or Primarian, do desperate things when it seems they have no other choice.
She didn’t reply, and Lana knew from her silence, and the little lines between her auburn brows that Eryn had already asked herself this question and struggled with the answer. As she stared down at her empty hand, her voice faded, almost to a whisper. “He hates me now and wants no part of me.”
“And you can just leave? Like that?”
“No, he is requesting dissolution of our bond.”
“I’ve heard the term.” From Trask’s uncle Aylan in the courtyard that night. “I assume it’s the Primarian version of divorce.”
“Basically. Although, from what I’m told, it doesn’t happen here—ever. But the new treaty makes it possible for all former captives to leave if they want. I put in my written request to leave immediately, and Ram can make his formal request to be unmated through the council.”
And she could do the same, leave on the Odyssey in the morning, and set Trask free.
Eryn looked at her suddenly. “Why all these questions? Surely you aren’t considering—”
“I’m curious, no more.”
She didn’t nod or look away, only stared at her for a long, considering moment. “I regret what I said in the park that day, Lana. Truly. We were all trying to cope as best we could. Me, you, Eva, and the others, all did what we thought we must to survive.”
“I understood, Eryn. Don’t think of it again.”
After brushing her hands together, she rose to her feet. “I better go check in. It will be strange sleeping in my old quarters tonight.”
“I didn’t think you left until tomorrow morning.”
“We do, at dawn. Which means we’re all on board and ready to go before dawn.” She gazed down at her sadly, which for a woman so desperate to be off this world only a short time ago, was quite telling. Had her warrior gotten to her too? “If our paths don’t cross again, Hartman, be well, and I hope you and your general have lots of brown-eyed blonde-haired babies,” she chuckled, though without humor. “Wouldn’t that shock the shit out of them?”
Lana watched as Eryn walked down the hill and merged with the steady stream of people making their way toward the shuttle port—most of them human females. Trask wasn’t due back until tomorrow, long after they left. Lana knew this was her chance. But could she go without seeing him one last time?
The pain of never being in his arms again, of never feeling his lips on her neck, or seeing his eyes whether green, blue, a mix of the two, or even black with anger, or of hearing him call her paulova in his low stirring voice was crushing, but she had to be strong, for him. There were no brown-eyed, blonde-haired children in her future, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be some in his. Because she loved him already and didn't want to see him sacrifice for less, or in her case, nothing, she had to do this.
By the end of the day, before the twin suns set in the northern horizon, she had to be on board the Odyssey. But she couldn’t risk someone stopping her and sending Trask word. A plan developed in her head—not a good one, but the best she could come up with.
Feeling both dejected, and determined to make this right for him, she started back to town. Her first stop, the capital center to officially dissolve the bond with the only man who would ever claim her heart, her mate.
***
USIF Odyssey, Earth bound, three days later…
After the heart-wrenching scene in the cargo bay, Maggie and Roth followed as Trask carried a near-frozen Lana in his arms to the captain’s quarters. They lingered outside in the hallway, in case their friends needed them. Despite moving away from the doors, going as far as the end of the corridor to give them privacy, they could still hear the rumble of Trask’s voice when it rose in anger, intermingled with Lana’s higher-pitched tones, especially her occasional shouts.
Long, torturous minutes passed while Maggie paced, shooting worried glances at Roth with each disturbing noise coming from the stateroom. Finally, the doors slid open, and Trask appeared.
“She’ll be staying,” he muttered as he walked toward them.
“What can we do to help?” Maggie asked out of concern for them both.
“Have your doctor evaluate her as soon as possible. She says it isn’t necessary, but she was in the cold floor for three days.” He looked up at Roth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I’m returning to the Dauntless. My presence isn’t helping, only making things worse.”
“Trask…” the commander started but stopped. What could be said to comfort the distraught man at such a time? Maggie had no words of wisdom or comfort, either.
“I need to think,” he said in a harried tone. “I can’t do that here.”
“But, General, won’t you both get sick if you’re separated?” Maggie posed her concern softly as she moved closer to Roth’s side. She slipped her hand into his, welcoming his tight grip as her heart broke for both his friend and hers.
Trask shook his head. “We aren’t fated like you, and we didn’t match nearly as high as many of the others. Three days have passed; we have been apart twice as long without sickening, but I’m only a shuttle flight away if I’m needed.” He speared his hands into his hair, and closed his eyes as he said raggedly, “That is not the mate I’ve come to know. Something is very wrong.” A moment passed, Maggie finding it difficult to watch as this powerful man struggled for composure. When he opened his eyes again, he addressed the commander. “Her eyes have changed back.”
“Impossible!” Roth exclaimed. “Transformations aren’t temporary.”
“It appears with my mate that it was because there isn’t a hint of me in her anymore.” His face ravaged with pain, he had one more request. “I need answers. Have her examined by both the Earth doctor and one of our own. I’ll want a full report.”
“I’ll deliver your orders myself and keep an eye on her, as will my mate.”
He started down the corridor to the lift, while his fingers rubbed his forehead, but stopped and turned. “Will you go to her, Maggie? Her skin was like ice, but she wouldn’t let me get her warm.”
“Right away, General.”
He nodded absently, appearing to Maggie like he’d been hit by a truck.
“What do we do?” she whispered to Roth as she watched him go.
“We support them, that is all we can do. It is between them, whatever this is.” His arm around her shoulders curled her into his chest. “I’ll alert your doctor and our medical team while you tend her. Let’s hope they have a solution to whatever this is because I’ve never seen Trask look so defeated.”
Once Lana was warm and fed, and with a bill of clean health from all the medical experts—other than a mild case of dehydration—Maggie tried to get her to talk, except she was stubbornly closemouthed. In the weeks that followed, Trask visited her repeatedly trying to break through but returned to his ship each time more frustrated. Roth could offer his friend support, but none of the insight he was searching for.
With the benefit of new uladite-powered engines, the Odyssey arrived home in just under two months. Negotiations started immediately and a month later plans were set in motion to integrate their two worlds and break ground on a new Earth colony. But in all that time, Trask found neither answers to what had gone wrong, nor a resolution to their conflict. He departed on the Dauntless, bound for Primaria, with a signed treaty in hand. Unfortunately, he’d still been angry, heart sick, and utterly confused as to what had caused his life plan to disintegrate. Having no other choice, he’d had to leave an integral part of himself and his future happiness behind when he left without Lana.