Chapter Thirteen
Starr
Fresh snow had pelted the ground overnight, drifting waist high. Torg led the way, taking short steps so I could follow in the depressions. Though I’d traveled this path once before, I recognized nothing. I never would have reached the meeting place without his guidance. Icha didn’t deserve sympathy, but I still felt sorry for her, cast out into this frozen, harsh land. Torg had assured me she would be fine. Another tribe would welcome her, no questions asked.
He glanced back to check on me. I flashed him a thumbs-up, and he returned the gesture I’d taught him. It was spreading around camp. Other Dakonians had started using it.
“We’re almost there!” he said.
“Wonderful!” He took good care of me. How quickly and firmly I’d come to accept him as my mate. I don’t know if it was the way Torg had taken my side and stood up for me when Icha pulled her little stunt, or when he’d exposed his vulnerabilities after Enoki’s visit, but I’d come to a decision: I would stay.
I must have been crazy to think of leaving anyway. Terra had nothing to offer me. Well, besides the climate. A woman could spend her entire life on Earth and not meet a man like Torg. He was strong, brave, caring, protective, and fantastic in the sack—or between the kel hides, as we liked to say here. I’d fallen in love with him.
If further inducement were required—which it wasn’t—Dakon provided a haven from the Carmichaels. They couldn’t reach me here. So what if a black mark remained against my name? I didn’t live on Terra anymore. Here I was free, loved, and safe. Life was pretty damn good.
I would be reunited with my friends from the ship. I even had a job! I would help to get the computer system up and running. Then the next order of business would be to contact Maridelle and tell her to forget the appeal. I didn’t want to waste her time. If the appeal came through, I would have to return for retrial, and I had no intention of doing that.
One possible glitch in present and future happiness would be if the Dakonians learned of my murder conviction since they frowned on homicide. Torg and I had bonded, so he probably wouldn’t exile me, but I would hate to discover I was wrong. If my conviction became public, I would deny it and claim I’d embellished my criminal past to build “ship cred” with my fellow passengers. The Dakonians didn’t have the means to check facts and disprove my story. They couldn’t speak or read Universal Terran, and Andrea, Tessa, and I would be the only ones who knew how to use the communication system. My friends would keep my secret.
Torg and I tromped into the clearing where the meeting place was located. A dozen smaller structures formed a half ring around the big lodge. “There are other buildings!” I stared. Upon arrival, I’d charged head down, blindly following the woman in front of me. I hadn’t seen anything but the stone lodge.
Torg stopped. “You thought the meeting place was only a building? It’s the center of Dakon. The big building where we met is where the council convenes and we hold multi-clan meetings.” He pointed to one of the smaller buildings. “The storehouse holds the bounty of the summer harvest. Next to it is a trading post. If we have an excess, we exchange it there for an item we don’t have.”
This was fascinating. I’d noticed next to nothing when I’d arrived. Beyond the structures lay a larger open field. I pointed. “Was that where the ship landed?”
Torg nodded. “I believe so. It had left by the time I arrived.”
Typical of how Terra did things. The crew hadn’t bothered to stick around to see how we were. We could consider ourselves lucky they’d landed the ship. They could have just slowed the craft, swooped in, and shoved us out the hatch.
I returned focus to the village itself. Torg and I stood at its edge. I pointed to a small stone building. “What’s in there?”
“That’s the records hall.”
“Records? What kind of records?”
“Births. Deaths. Matings. While you are setting up the communication system, I will record our mating.”
For my peace of mind, I would assume he meant mating as in alien-law marriage and not a notation of consummation. Let’s have a little privacy here. Everyone assumed couples had sex, but we didn’t need to announce it, did we? I drew my brows together. “Wait—you have a written language?”
“Of course we have a written language. How else would we keep records?”
His matter-of-fact tone held no hint of censure, but my face heated at my prejudice. How else, indeed? Torg had explained Dakon had had a greater civilization; why assume they were illiterate?
“I’m sorry. What do you use to write with?”
“We mix ink out of ash and kel oil and hammer out paper from the fibrous stems of a plant. It takes a lot of work, so we don’t waste paper or ink. When our infrastructure was destroyed, we feared we would lose our history as well, so survivors wrote down their memories. Those records are preserved in big tomes. That’s how we know what happened.”
“Could I learn to read Dakonian?”
“You want to learn our language?”
“I would like to know your history.” The more time I spent with him, the more my admiration for him and his people grew.
“I will bring home some books and sheets of blank paper. Perhaps you would teach me your language as well?”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Our children will speak both our languages and know both our cultures,” he said softly.
My heart filled with happiness, but doubt nipped at me. Torg and I came from two different alien races. What if our genetics weren’t compatible? Preliminary testing suggested they were, but it had yet to be proven. Nor would I put it past Terra to lie to get their hands on illuvian ore. I had seen my government in action. “I would like that, but what if we can’t produce children?”
I knew for a fact they wouldn’t come right away in my case. I had a contraceptive implant. Without the medical device to remove it, we would have to wait for the effects to wear off.
“We will still have each other.”
The quiet simplicity of his comment brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them away. “You make it so easy to love you.” He was good and true and more than I deserved.
“I started to fall in love with you the moment I saw you.”
A sweet sentiment, and his eyes radiated sincerity, but our meeting wasn’t so long ago that I could forget his shock. I started to object, but he spoke again. “I learned then not to judge by appearance, but by deed and character. I love you, Starrconner, your yellow hair, your sacrifice in coming here, the way our bodies join in pleasure, your willingness to integrate into my culture.”
He still often called me Starrconner. When I taught him Universal Terran, I would teach him our naming structure. Or not. It was kind of charming how he blended both names as if they were one. I loved his gravelly, growly voice.
I hugged him hard. The bulkiness of our kels prevented my arms from reaching all the way around him, but he had no trouble and enveloped me in a tight embrace. Contentment and desire entwined. Torg squeezed me then set me away and jutted his chin at the lodge. “I think one of your friends has already arrived.”
He was right. A set of footprints led inside.
“After I record our mating, I’ll meet you in there.”
“Okay.” I kissed him. The frigid air had chilled his lips, but they warmed as we kissed. Torg headed toward the records hall, and I clopped through the snow toward the lodge. Who would it be? Andrea or Tessa? I couldn’t wait to see both my friends. We’d bonded aboard the SS Australia, and though I’d committed myself to Torg, they represented my link to Terra. They had become family.
I flung back the flap and rushed inside. Hands on hips, a woman faced a bright, glowing computer screen set up in the corner. I recognized the braids. “Andrea!”
She spun around. “Starr!” Her face broke into a huge smile, and we ran toward each other. We embraced in a clinging bear hug as if we’d been friends forever and had been separated for far longer than two weeks.
When we broke apart, we wiped at our eyes.
“How are you?” I asked. “How’s Groman, your camp?”
“Good. It took some adjustment on my part. I’m still acclimating to the primitiveness.” She swept an arm at the computer station. “I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to be disconnected. Having this will help. I heard you recommended me. You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” She hugged me again. “Tell me about your mate. I never got to see him. You had reservations. Are you any happier now?”
“More than I ever expected.” It hadn’t been my choice, but ending up here had been the best thing to happen to me. “My mate is Torg. He’s chief of the clan I belong to.” The clan I belong to. I would always be Terran, but, now, I was Dakonian, too. “Have you heard from Tessa?” I glanced around as if mentioning her name would cause her to materialize.
Andrea shook her head. “No. I can’t wait to see her.”
“How do you like Groman?”
Andrea made a sizzling sound like water dropping on a hot rock. “The guy is hot. He’s built like a tank with muscles and lordy, what that man can do in bed.” She grinned.
I blushed. The same could apply to Torg, but I wouldn’t be so brazen as to say so. “The men appreciate us.”
“And I love how they show their gratitude.” Andrea laughed.
“How do the other women in the camp respond to you?” I asked, wondering if anyone had tried to poison her.
“They’re friendly. Curious about Terra.”
Lucky me. I was the only one with an icky Icha problem. Well, not anymore. Torg fixed that. “They really are desperate for women here.”
“Yes, they are.”
I moved toward the computer equipment. “You’ve set it up already,” I said, relieved because I’d overestimated my abilities to Enoki so I could see my friends.
Andrea nodded. “Piece of cake. I want to check the delivery schedule. We can log on as Enoki. They gave him a code to use, which he passed on to me.”
“I heard they’re sending double the number of women next time.”
“I heard that, too. My tribe will get three chits next time.”
“The Dakonians need women, but the population isn’t that large. Torg’s clan is two hundred-plus people.”
“Groman’s is around three hundred.”
“Times, what, fifteen clans? They have maybe five thousand people, and they already have some women. What do you suppose will happen when they get all they need? They won’t want an excess.”
“No,” Andrea agreed. “Terra will still need the ore, though.”
“That’s what worries me.” Right now, relations were positive, but as I stared at the computer placed in a dirt-floored lodge, potential problems rose like the smoke spiraling from the fire pit. Had anyone considered future consequences? “When an advanced society encounters a more primitive one, things don’t tend to work out for the latter.” Earth history had proven that time and again. “Has anyone thought about that?”
“I doubt it,” she said.
Earth’s desire for the ore would become insatiable. Its population numbered in the hundreds of billions. If Dakon got one woman for every man, its population might double to ten thousand. The shipment of ore had been small this time, but what would happen when demand increased? When they sent an entire fleet of starships?
“I can’t imagine that Dakon will give the ore away without expecting anything in return.”
“I wouldn’t.” Andrea shook her head.
“The council might decide to cut off the supply of ore. And even if they didn’t, in the long run, it wouldn’t work out to their benefit to have a technologically advanced civilization taking advantage.”
“Terra could decide to take the ore by force.”
“That’s what I fear. We need to even the balance. Other than women, what does Terra have that Dakon needs?”
Andrea’s mouth took on a wry twist as she glanced around the empty stone lodge heated by an open fire. “Everything.”
I snapped my fingers. “Terra could help rebuild Dakon.” A purposeful excitement curled in the pit of my stomach. They could have real houses with all the amenities like heaters, flash cookers, actual beds.
“Terra could, but will they? Right now, they’re getting a two-for-one. They get rid of some ‘problems’ and get free energy. They might resist paying with something of value. Dakon gives rocks they have no use for. The exchange program requires no sacrifice on anyone’s part. Would Dakon even want the technology? It would change everything.”
“Torg would,” I said.
“Groman would, too, but from what I’ve overheard, a lot of men wouldn’t.”
“Then we show them what they’re missing!”
Andrea nibbled her lip. “It will take a few years before Dakon has an optimal number of women. That gives us time to change the nature of trade, show Dakon what they could have, and better prepare them in case Terra ignores the treaty and attempts to take the ore by force. We need to get them up to speed fast.”
“What do you propose?”
She cracked her knuckles. “First, we work on their defense.”
“Weapons?”
She nodded. “If a battle was to ensue, as it stands now, Dakon would lose. A laser blaster will outgun a spear or a bow and arrow every time. So, we stockpile an arsenal. Laser rifles, fighter drones, defensive deflectors, surface-to-ship missile launchers. At the first sign of aggression, we’ll blast them out of the sky.” Her face lit up.
She sounded more like an insurgent than a cyber hacker. She could have been smarter than me and lied about the charges against her. Too late to worry about that now.
“We can open a hospital. Order real medical equipment. Groman would love that.”
“Why Groman?”
“He’s a healer.”
“You nabbed an alien doctor? Good catch, girl!” I slapped her arm.
She grinned. “This feels like Christmas. What else should we get?”
“Snow vehicles.” I’d never forget that first hike when Torg had to carry me. “And portable comm units so tribes can talk to each other.”
“Multipurpose drones,” Andrea added to the list.
“Wait a minute…how is all this being powered?”
Andrea tilted her head toward the computer terminal. “Same way as that. Rechargeable solar cells. We’ll need those, too.”
“Does Dakon get enough sun for that?”
“Oh yeah. They can recharge from starlight if they have to. It would take a little longer, but it can be done.”
“How are we going to get this stuff?”
“We’re going to add items to the manifest. With every shipment of ‘human capital,’ they’ll also receive weapons, medical equipment, and whatever else we want. Remember, I have Enoki’s code.”
“He has that kind of access?”
“Oh, hell no. His access is very limited. But that’s all the entry I need. Our add-ons won’t originate from the council chief—they’ll come from the Terran exchange program director.” She chortled and cracked her knuckles. “Mama is back in business!”
“You’re going to hack in?”
“Does that bother you?”
“Not in the least. Our future is tied to Dakon’s. The Terran government didn’t have a whit of conscience about shipping us here.” Who in this day and age traded people for rocks? That was called trafficking, wasn’t it? Even if the women had agreed. Go to prison or go to Dakon. What a choice.
I hadn’t even been offered that. My government had sold me out. No, I had no qualms about Andrea’s plan. Hack away and sign me up to help. And get me a missile launcher while you’re at it.
“Could you do me a favor?” I asked. “I need to contact my attorney and tell her to forget the appeal. There’s no sense moving forward with that.”
“Sure, no problem.”
I fidgeted, unsure how my next question would be received. “Um…did you talk to anybody about me?”
“I mentioned to Groman that I wanted to see you.”
“Did you tell him what I was convicted of?”
Andrea shook her head. “No. I didn’t tell them about any of us. They don’t need to know Terra has been getting rid of their criminals.”
Just because Andrea hadn’t mentioned it, didn’t mean no one else would. Among a ship of convicted felons, I’d been a cause célèbre. Not only had I supposedly killed somebody, I’d killed an infamous somebody. A Carmichael.
The exposure of my secret was inevitable, but I’d do my damnedest to delay it at least until the Dakonians got to know me better. Tessa and Andrea didn’t have much to worry about. Tessa had laundered money. On a planet with no monetary system, her crime threatened no one. Neither did Andrea’s hacking. On the contrary, her piracy was an asset.
I bit my lip. “I don’t want word to get out about my conviction. Your computer hacking, Tessa’s money laundering—”
“What about Tessa’s money laundering?” a cheerful voice cut in.
Andrea and I spun around. Tessa flung off the hood of her kel.
Squeals and hugs ensued.
“It’s so good to see you.” We were the three amigas. The two of them had drawn me out of my funk and isolation on the SS Australia, and I’d be forever grateful.
“I missed you guys.” Tessa embraced me again. “I’m so glad we’re all together again.”
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it,” Andrea said when we stopped hugging.
“Are you kidding? Wild kel couldn’t keep me away,” she said, and we laughed. “I was on my way out of the hut when Loka gave me that look…and we ended up dancing the horizontal tango. Dakonian men are a randy lot.”
“And randy a lot,” Andrea joked.
We laughed again.
“A woman on this planet could have her pick of men.” Tessa snapped her fingers. “Hey, you! My hut. Don’t be late.” She giggled. “Anyway…so what’s this about money laundering?”
“Only that your conviction and Andrea’s probably wouldn’t matter to the Dakonians. They don’t have computers—or money, for that matter. My crime is different.”
“You mean murdering your employer?” Tessa asked.
I winced. “Yeah, that.”
“I won’t say anything,” she promised.
Andrea pantomimed zipping her lips.
“I didn’t do it.” They needed to know.
Tessa winked. “Of course not. None of us did. We’re all innocent.”
“It was self-defense.”
I’d hit him, and he went down, but he was still alive when I fled the room. Jaxon had gotten to his feet and lunged for the weapon that had fallen from his pocket. He’d been bleeding, but head injuries always bled a lot, right? Honestly, I’d regretted not hitting him harder. I’d sprinted through the high-rise certain he would come after me, or that the guards in reception would detain me. I was amazed when I escaped. But not as stunned as when authorities arrested me the next day. If I hadn’t defended myself, he would have shot and killed me.
“Sorry.” Tessa hugged me. “I was just curious. I believe you. It must have been a horrible experience.”
“It was.” The government had set me up then deserted me. I don’t think they’d planned for the situation to go down the way it had, but they’d capitalized on it.
Fuck Terra. I hoped Andrea milked them dry. The more inventory she shipped here, the better. Weapons, medical equipment, vehicles, building materials—maybe some artificial snow-makers for the hell of it.
“Listen,” I told Tessa. “Andrea and I think the rocks-for-brides program is destined for a short life span, so we’re planning to squirrel away supplies and equipment to improve Dakon and make our lives easier. We’ll have items sent with each shipment of women.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“We talked about medical supplies, transportation vehicles, solar cells, drones, wea—”
“Shampoo?” Tessa looked at Andrea hopefully. “I can’t stand the smell of that stuff they make with kel fat.” She wrinkled her nose. “And chocolate. And some synthetic fiber clothing they wear in the polar climates, so we can get rid of these kel hides.”
I’d gotten used to the kel. I didn’t notice the smell anymore.
“Sounds good.” Andrea nodded.
“Snowshoes!” I added.
“We’ll order a whole bunch of those.” Andrea tapped her chin. “I’m wondering whether we should order a few items and build up to bigger shipments to avoid triggering an audit, or whether we should go for broke in case we get found out and they cut off the supply stream. What do you think?”
“A little at a time,” I suggested.
“Go for broke!” Tessa punched the air.
“Maybe I’ll skate down the middle.”
I walked to the fire pit and tossed a couple of logs into the flames. “Let’s get started!” I glanced at the door. “I expected Torg to be here by now.”
“He’s with Groman and Loka,” Tessa said. “I saw them go into the tavern.”
“They have a tavern?”
“Not by our standards, but it’s as close to one as they get.”
Andrea touched the computer screen. It awakened, and her fingers flew over the virtual keyboard. “Good thing we logged on now. The next ship departs in a week. The robos will have to hustle to load the cargo in time.”
Tessa and I peered over her shoulder. In less than a minute, she’d accessed the shipment manifest and added a shit ton of stuff.
“How’s that?” Andrea asked.
Tessa and I read through the list. “I can’t think of anything else.”
“This will go directly into the automated inventory system, which will scan the director’s code then shoot the orders to warehousing so the robos can load the stuff onto the ship. Unless there’s a spot audit and a live person familiar with the program reviews the manifest, it won’t raise any questions. I also accessed the original Terra-Dakon contract and slightly changed the nature of the terms to include ‘other needed supplies’ to prevent any automated triggers.”
“You’re an evil genius,” I said.
“Scary,” Tessa agreed.
“Thank you.” Andrea grinned. She sent the new orders with a touch to the screen. In a few short months, we’d be living in the lap of luxury. Relatively speaking.
“Anything else before I log off?” she asked.
“Remember, I want to contact Maridelle.”
“Right. What do you want to say?”
“Tell her I appreciate everything she tried to do, but let the conviction ride. Tell her I’m happy, and I plan to stay here.”
Andrea spun around in the chair. “Do you prefer a textual communiqué….or would you like to talk face-to-face. I can activate the vid function.”
Tessa moved to poke at a snapping log in the pit. Until we’d arrived here, I doubt any of us had ever seen an open flame, let alone tended one.
Maridelle might try to talk me out of my decision. She had fought hard, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it had been for me. Like all attorneys, she desired to win. My conviction represented a loss. Of course she would push for an appeal. To take on the Carmichaels and triumph, well, that would be a huge feather in her cap—she could move from being a lowly public defender to a plum position in a criminal defense firm. Maybe I was being cynical. Or else I feared seeing any part of Terra again—even the inside of a public defender’s office—would undermine my resolve to stay.
“Thanks, but the textual communiqué will do.”
“Okay!” She fired off the message. “Anybody else you want to contact?”
“You could send a message to the Carmichaels to eat shit and die.”
“Really?”
“No, but it’s a nice thought.” I grinned, feeling almost buoyant. Happiness, I realized. This was what happiness felt like.
A chilly breeze swept into the room as the flap opened, and Torg, Groman, and Loka stomped into the lodge, shaking fresh snow off their kels.
Dakonian men were handsome devils, but Torg was by far the most impressive. Groman was a tad taller; Loka had the most pronounced horns, but could not compare to Torg. Strength and honor were chiseled into the hard angles of his face, and his eyes glowed when they met mine. His grin curled my toes.
I ran over to him and linked my arm through his. Tessa and Andrea followed and stood by their mates.
“Torg, these are my friends, Andrea and Tessa.”
I remembered Groman and Loka, but Andrea and Tessa made formal introductions.
“Do you have a lot more to do here?” Torg asked when we’d all gotten acquainted.
I glanced at Andrea. “I think we’re finished?” She’d done all the “work.” I’d assisted with the plot.
“For today.” She nodded. “We can check in to track the progress of the ship.”
“This is going to mean so much to our people,” Torg said.
He had no idea—yet. I’d fill him in tonight. I wondered if Andrea and Tessa would tell their mates what we’d done. We should have discussed what to tell the men.
“Let me log off.” Andrea returned to the computer system.
I hugged Torg’s arm and then sniffed as an odd, yet familiar odor teased my nostrils. I squinted. “Have you been drinking?”
“I have imbibed a liquid, yes,” he answered.
“I mean, alcohol. Fermented liquid.”
“I had an ale at the tavern.”
“What else does the tavern serve besides ale?” Was it like a pub? Could I order a kel sandwich to go with my beer?
“Just ale. Would you like one?”
I nodded. “I’d like to try it. Perhaps we could all go?” I glanced at my friends and their mates.
“I’m in,” Andrea said.
“Me, too!” Tessa clapped her hands and gave a little bounce. I stifled a smile. Though eager to see it myself, I had a feeling the tavern didn’t quite warrant that much enthusiasm. However, pleasure skittered through me. This would be a couples’ night…er, afternoon. Three friends and their horned mates kicking back at an alien bar.
Tessa looked at Loka and then the other men. “Maybe afterward you gentlemen would give us ladies a tour of the town?”
“Town” seemed like a rather grandiose description for the straggle of huts, but, again, I was eager to visit the “hall” of records, the trading post, everything. “I would love that,” I said.
“For sure.” Andrea nodded.
We women donned our kels and followed the men out. While we’d been in the lodge, enough new frozen precipitation had fallen to obliterate our arrival tracks, but fortunately it had stopped snowing.
As with the lodge, a heavy hide flap covered the doorway of the tavern. We pushed inside to a room scented by yeast. No jovial, loquacious bartender swabbed down the bar between drawing draughts of ale. A half-dozen corked jugs sat on a shelf. Tree stumps surrounded a couple of roughhewn tables. We were the only patrons.
And, come to think of it, other than us six, I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the “town.”
“Does no one come here? To the meeting place?” I asked.
“Only for assemblies, or if they need something, but each tribe is pretty self-sufficient.” Torg tossed a log atop the embers in the pit.
He finished, and I smiled at him. “Buy me a drink, sailor?”
His brows knitted. “I don’t understand.”
Tessa giggled. “She means pour her an ale.”
“How about a round for everyone?” Andrea asked.
“Oh! Of course.” Torg plucked an earthen cup from a nesting stack. He poured out the dregs, and two thoughts struck me: one, small wonder the hut smelled so yeasty, and two, how many people had used that mug?
Andrea, Tessa, and I exchanged glances. Tessa looked horrified.
“The alcohol will kill anything.” I shrugged.
“Even alien microbes?” she whispered. For a woman who’d run a prostitution operation, she was rather squeamish.
“Why not? It’s alien alcohol.”
“Besides.” Andrea’s mouth twitched. “There aren’t that many people on Dakon. I doubt more than two or three thousand used that cup.”
Torg eyed the tankard. “Is something wrong?”
“No. It’s a Terran custom that we wash a cup before the next person uses it.”
“But this one is not dirty. To replace the water used to wash it, a hole must be drilled into the ice to draw water—or ice must be melted.”
No resource, not even water, could be taken for granted. Simple tasks took monumental efforts. These people needed our help more than they realized.
“Would you like a different cup?” He reached for another on the shelf.
“No, that one will be fine, thank you.” The others wouldn’t be any different.
I accepted the ale, and after Torg had passed a draught to everyone else, I raised my tankard high. Andrea and Tessa did the same.
The men exchanged befuddled looks.
“You, too, guys!” Tessa nudged Loka.
Hesitantly, they raised their cups.
“What should we toast to?” I asked. We had so many things to celebrate.
“To new friends and fresh starts!” Tessa said.
“Here, here!” I seconded.
The three of us touched cups. We motioned to our men, and they did the same. I took a drink. The foamy liquid pretty much tasted like beer until the afterburn kicked in. Pure firewater. I choked. Andrea gasped, too, but Tessa hadn’t tasted hers yet.
“I’ve seen all I need to see.” She giggled.
I took another exploratory swig. Once the heat subsided, the ale wasn’t all that bad.
The men pushed two tables together, and the six of us sat around and talked, swapping stories of our respective homelands. I was on an alien planet, but damn if this didn’t seem normal. I never thought I’d say it—or be able to experience it—but my life was pretty damn good.