Chapter Three
Starr
The med tech pressed the muzzle of the medical device behind my right ear. “Hold still.”
A sharp pain shot into my head. “Ow!” I slapped the hurting spot. The implant formed a warm, throbbing subdural lump. I shifted my head from side to side. “Is it supposed to feel hot?”
“That goes away.”
“How can I tell if the implant is working?”
He shrugged. “If you can understand them, it’s working.”
“It will automatically translate what I say into their language as well?”
“It sends a signal to the language center of your brain. When you speak to them, it will be in their tongue.” He signaled the coordinator. “All done.”
I slipped off the stool. We’d been advised that the weather would be “chilly” so we should wear our warmest gear. None of the garments packed by prison personnel were suitable for cold weather, so I’d compensated by donning all the clothing I had with me: two bottoms, two short-sleeved shirts, one long, and, lastly, a knee-length sleep shirt. Multiple layers didn’t slim me down any. Would the alien realize my clothing made me look heavier than I was? And why did I care if the alien thought I was fat? I waddled into place beside Andrea and Tessa.
The coordinator raised her hands. “Okay, ladies. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. The ship’s gangway has lowered. It will be just a little longer before you disembark. When you exit, head directly to the reception center, the large stone pavilion. It’s a little nippy out there, so move quickly. Your mates are waiting inside.”
My stomach tumbled. I studied the other women to see if they were as nervous as I. This was the first time all of us had been in the same room together and as I surveyed them, it struck me I was the shortest person here. Every single woman had at least seven or eight inches on me, and some were a lot taller than that. At five foot three, I’d gotten used to being one of the shortest people in any gathering, but wasn’t it strange nobody stood close to my height? Both Andrea and Tessa were statuesque and muscular, like athletes. About the only thing we had in common physically was our weight. They had me on height, but we probably weighed about the same. They were tall and sleek; I was squat and plump.
Something else I noticed now: how dark the women were. Andrea, like a dozen others, was of Terran African descent. The rest, like Tessa, were Caucasians with dark-brown hair and eyes. Most had permanent chemical tans.
A blued-eyed blonde, I felt like a canary among ravens. This is a little weird. What were the odds I’d be the only blonde?
The door slid open, and stewards wheeled in huge carts piled with what appeared to be animal carcasses. “What is that?” I clapped a hand over my nose and mouth.
“Animal hide. Fur,” Andrea said. “I believe what we smell is called leather.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“People used to cobble shoes and sew clothing out of animal skins.”
“But not for hundreds of years.” My hand muffled my words. The wealthy bought cotton and linen; the rest of us wore synthetics.
“The Dakonians have provided you with warm coats,” the coordinator said. “Form a line, please, and come up and get one.”
I would have hung back, but Andrea and Tessa nudged me forward. Grimacing, I accepted the coat, slinging the smelly thing over my arm, holding it away like it was a dead animal. Which it was. Andrea, Tessa, and the other women donned theirs. Giggling, they pulled the hoods over their heads and preened for one another. Gross. How could they stand it?
“How do I look?” Tessa pivoted. The fur covered her from head to knees. She’d done up the wooden toggles that kept it closed. Only her hands, face, and a few strands of brunette hair were visible.
“Like an alien,” I said. In the fur, she was indistinguishable from the Dakonian in the orientation video I’d finally watched.
She mimicked horns with her index fingers pressed to her temples. “How about now?”
“Tessa!” Andrea chided, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
Tessa giggled and shoved her hands into some pouches sewn into the sides. She pulled out two hide mitts, the insides lined with fur. “Hey everybody—hand warmers!” She donned them, and the other women checked their pockets and found theirs. Holding the animal hide was bad enough. I had no desire to stick my hand into the skin and rummage around.
“I wonder what kind of animal it was,” Tessa mused.
“I believe it is called a kel,” the coordinator answered. Pressing a hand to her ear, she cocked her head. “Okay, ladies! We’re ready now. Follow me, please.” She motioned and exited the conference center.
“This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see them.” Tessa bounced from foot to foot.
A tornado churned in my stomach at the impending confrontation. Carmichael justice could load me on a shuttle and transport me halfway across the galaxy, but the family couldn’t make me copulate with an alien. No way. No how. Not going to happen. If the Dakonians were friendly and pleasant like Terra One World had promised, there should be a getting-to-know-you-hands-off-keep-your-pecker-to-yourself transition period. But, eventually, my so-called mate would expect to get what he’d paid for. The alien was going to be very unhappy.
I only planned to hang out here until my appeal came through. It had to come through. It had to. How Maridelle would notify me, I’d worry about later. Get through the meet and greet. One thing at a time.
Single file, we rounded a corner of the ship, and the temperature plummeted at least forty degrees, indicating we neared the gangway. Cold seeped through all my clothing layers. I should have put on the fur. I sniffed. No. The entire corridor reeked from the multiplied effect of forty-nine women covered in dead animals.
I stepped into an icy white world. Needles of cold stung my face and pierced the barrier of clothing like I wore nothing at all. I gasped from the shock of it, drawing frigid air into my lungs.
Hell, that mythological world inhabited by demons wasn’t hot at all. It was a frozen, alien wasteland. No wonder Dakonians had horns—they were creatures of the hell they lived in.
Shivers racked my body, and my teeth clattered. Hurriedly, I pulled on the fur. It covered me from neck to ankles. My fingers were so stiff from cold already, I could hardly do up the toggles. I yanked the hood over my head and then dug into the pockets for the mitts. My hands shook so bad, I dropped the mittens in the snow. Before I could retrieve them, the line of women pushed me forward, and the wind swallowed my cry to stop. The cold drew tears from my eyes and froze them on my face.
The only warmth came from a burning hatred for the Carmichaels or Terra One World or whoever had put me here.
Head down, I followed the furry back of the woman in front of me. Andrea? Tessa? I couldn’t tell. At least I was in the middle of the pack, so the ones leading the charge had stomped out a path, and my feet didn’t get buried in the snow.
A blast of warmth caressed my face. I lifted my head and blinked through the tears at a huge gray stone domed building. The women were entering, holding aside the thick flap of hide serving as a door.
This is it. No backing out now. I choked at my own sad joke. Taking a deep breath, I pushed inside.
Warm. Warm. Warm. Like a mantra, the words rolled through my mind. A large fire blazed in a hearth in the center, the smoke drifting up and out through a hole in the ceiling. Instead of crowding around it, my fellow ’net brides stood still and quiet, staring across the room at...bears. Huge, furry bears.
The aliens.
I’d never seen beings so large, their bulk enhanced by their furs, the hoods thrown back to reveal swarthy faces. My gaze was drawn to their heads. Not a horn in sight. Thick dark straight hair fell to their shoulders. Eyes and ears—thankfully, only two of each. One mouth, one nose. No scales.
Some of them smiled, and I noted with relief they didn’t have fangs or lizard-like tongues. Not that I could see.
“They look like Earth men!” whispered a woman on my right, and I realized it was Tessa.
At first glance—yes, but if you focused on the subtleties—no. Working for the Carmichaels I’d learned paying attention kept you alive. If I hadn’t caught that slight flicker in Jaxon’s eyes, I’d be dead now. So I noticed details others didn’t. Dakonian features were craggier, rougher than any Terran male’s, their irises so dark they appeared almost black, and while their complexion might be considered “tan” on Earth, it had a tonal quality I’d never seen on a human being. They were way taller than the Terran norm. The shortest one topped seven feet.
“They’re hunky,” Tessa said.
“Quite nice. They’ll do fine,” Andrea murmured on my other side.
One woman removed her hood, the others followed suit, and the men’s smiles broadened; they liked what they saw. I kept my hood up; I hadn’t recovered from the cold. Or maybe I was hiding from seven-foot-tall bogeymen disguised as aliens. Could we trust these men?
One of them broke from the pack and approached. Now I spotted what had been obscured by the distance: little dark-brown nubs poking up out of his hair. They did have horns!
“Welcome, females! I’m Enoki, head of the clan council of Dakon. We are pleased you have arrived.”
Females? How wonderfully…objectifying. Or maybe the translation wasn’t exact. I rubbed the lump behind my ear. At least I’d understood him; the translator worked.
“Thank you.”
“Hello.”
“Happy to be here.”
The women responded with their own greetings. They did not appear to be offended by being called “female.” Anticipation and excitement rose palpably in the room.
“Let me explain how the selection process will work. We were informed fifty of you would arrive in the first phase. To be fair to all unmated men, the council held a lottery. Winners drew a numbered chit. In order, they will choose a mate. If you do not like the man who picks you, you may refuse, and he will choose someone else.”
A schoolyard pick? Were they serious? When the rejected man moved on to someone else, woman number two would always remember she’d taken second place. And what about the last woman standing? The men hadn’t thought through their little selection process. Still, a part of me warmed to the fact I would have some say-so. For the first time in a long while, I would have input into what happened to me.
The men were still grinning. Their happiness and appreciation seemed genuine—and infectious. Would settling down with an alien be so bad? What did I have waiting for me at home, anyway? My parents had been killed in a hovercraft accident when I was a child; my maternal harpy-of-a-woman grandmother had raised me but never allowed me to forget the depth of her sacrifice. As soon as I was legal, I’d left and never looked back.
But Terra is my home. And it’s warm there. I shivered and snuggled deeper into the stinky coat. Was it always this cold?
“Once you have agreed to the selection, you will join your mate and travel with him to his camp,” Enoki said. “Let us begin. Number one!”
A tall man with black eyes and hair flowing to the hood of his fur—which pretty much described them all—bounded forward. His gaze zeroed in on a pretty woman with olive skin and almond-shaped eyes. Callie, I recalled. Embezzlement. “My name is Krok. I choose you.”
Callie smiled, fluttering her lashes. Some people were born flirts. “I would like that.”
He held out his hand, and she took it and told him her name. As he led her away, she waved with her free hand. “Bye, ladies! Good luck!”
“Bye, Callie!” We waved.
The farewell hit me with a thud, and I glanced at Tessa and Andrea. We’d become friends. Would we ever see each other again? How far apart were the camps? And what did they mean by camp? That sounded…primitive.
Number two approached Andrea. “You are very beautiful. I’m Groman. I would be honored if you would consent to be my mate.”
She sized him up, her scrutiny just shy of a visual rectal exam. For as long as it took her, I almost felt sorry for the guy. I could see his confidence slip with every passing second. Finally, she nodded. “I agree.” Andrea grabbed me in a hug. “We’ll find a way to meet up,” she whispered in my ear. “Remember, his name is Groman.”
“Groman,” I repeated, hugging her tight. A lump formed in my throat. “I hope you get what you came for, Andrea.”
“You, too. Good luck!”
I was looking for my appeal to come through so I could return to Terra.
She embraced Tessa next and then left with her alien beau.
“Number three!” Enoki called.
No one bounded forward. The men glanced at each other. Several checked their chits as if they might have the wrong number.
“Number three?” Enoki called. “Torg?”
“Torg is not here,” one man said.
Enoki shook his head. “Very well. He can wait until the end, then. Number four!”
A grinning alien jumped forward.
One by one, women and aliens paired up. Nobody refused anybody. Tessa was chosen tenth by a man named Loka. “Take off your hood so they can see your face,” she whispered in my ear when we hugged good-bye.
My chest tightened as she skipped away with her tall alien squeeze. They reminded me of newlyweds. The only thing this party lacked was confetti. And cake. I wished I had some. The selection process had triggered an urge to stress eat. Out of fifty women, Andrea had been chosen second and Tessa tenth. An irrational jealousy knotted my stomach, and the beginnings of humiliation heated my face.
Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Taking Tessa’s advice, I pushed off the hood. Twenty-five, twenty-six. Not a single alien glanced in my direction. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. I was no raving beauty, but I rated on par with at least some of the remaining women. I had nice eyes. Good skin. A cute nose. Sure, I carried excess baggage around my hips and thighs, but in the disgusting, smelly fur they couldn’t tell! We were all bulky blobs. What was wrong with these aliens? Forty-five. I crossed my arms, tucked my still-freezing hands under my armpits, and glowered. Fine.
Forty-seven, forty-eight.
Last one. Forty-nine strode up to the other woman not chosen. “I’m so relieved,” he said. “I worried someone else would claim you before my number came up. Would you be my mate?”
Smarmy asshat. My throat thickened, and I yanked the hood over my head. If I could have crawled into a snowdrift, I would have. These aliens, desperate for women, had passed me over—every single one of them. I huddled in my fur and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from crying. Only me and Enoki, the head alien, remained.
He cleared his throat. “By default, Torg will be yours.”
I’d forgotten about missing number three. It didn’t matter because nobody had chosen me; no one had looked at me. Why?
“I cannot imagine what is keeping Torg,” Enoki said.
A blast of cold air shot into the room as the flap lifted. “I’m here!”