Chapter Four

JESSE

While I waited for Porter and my fiancee, I had been checking out the innkeeper's fields. Although he was an idiot in some respects, Myron Dublay was becoming a decent farmer. I stopped when I got to the edge of the yard, surveying all the people. Porter had sent word they would arrive in the afternoon, but I didn't know when.

At that moment, I spotted him helping a woman out of a carriage. She was here.

I watched as she descended gracefully from the vehicle. Her form was pleasing. Full breasts, a narrow waist, and wide hips. She would bear children well.

I supposed I should stop hiding at the edge of the yard and meet her. I felt nervous, which made me irritated. There was no reason to be nervous.

And yet I was. I gathered myself and walked toward her. I had met more intimidating people than her, so there was no reason I should be anxious.

She turned her head and watched my approach. Her eyes widened in...appreciation? I filed that information away in the back of my mind. I ignored the shot of energy that went through me when our eyes met. This woman was a means to an end. I had no desire to become emotionally entangled with her.

As I got closer to her body, I noticed she was somewhat plain and unkempt. Her hair was a mess, her skirts full of dust, and she wore large spectacles on her face.

Apparently I wasn't getting a lovely woman to look at over the breakfast table.

"Is this the one?" I said to Porter, avoiding direct eye contact. I didn't want to have to look at her more than was necessary. I clung tightly to the thought that all women look beautiful in a dark bedroom.

"That's her," he said. "Annalee Beauchene, meet your fiance, Jesse Melnyk."

He spoke respectfully to Annalee, but when he turned to me, he smirked and winked.

I rolled my eyes. Where had he found this wench? I checked out her cleavage — ample. I supposed she would do.

"It's good to meet you, Miss Beauchene," I said, formally. "Would you like to come inside and wash up or rest? Perhaps you can get something to eat before we go back to my father's farm and meet him?"

She looked like she hadn't been expecting me to ask her anything, but she recovered quickly.

"Nice to meet you, too," she said, doing a clumsy curtsy that reminded me she only looked like a Yordbrook woman. She had likely never curtsied before because she was from another planet — a modern world, with modern things. I frowned. It might be harder than I thought to hide that she wasn't from around these parts. The notion hadn't occurred to me when I asked for Porter's help.

"Yes, I'd like to wash up, please. And have a meal," she said, the light going out of her eyes when she looked at me. It was as if all the spunk had drained out of her. I wondered what had caused the change. She hadn't looked like that when she arrived.

"Porter, will you join us?" I clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed it tightly.

"Of course, Jesse." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'd pay to see this show."

The bastard. He would pay for setting me up with this homely lass. She had better be amazing in bed.

Despite my dreams, after she cleaned up the woman didn't look much better than before she went inside. I wondered if she had a brush. I tried to remember I was doing this for my father so he could die in peace. She was something necessary, and I would have to adjust.

The three of us sat down at a table. The innkeeper's wife, Isabella, brought us fresh baked bread and butter, along with three plates and a knife. She smiled at me.

We had a morelia encounter when we were both teenagers, and apparently she had never forgotten it. At least, that was how it seemed to me the two times she tried to get me to have an affair with her. I had turned her down, but she was difficult to resist.

I didn't blame her, of course. Myron couldn't be much fun in bed. I had certain standards and sleeping with married women isn't something I did.

Porter offered the girl the bread and butter first. The look on her face when she tasted it gave me hope. I glanced at Porter, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. She didn't notice because she was busy enjoying the bread.

Her eyes were closed. She let out a gentle moan when she took the first bite. "This is incredible."

"You've not tasted bread before?" I said. "It's a based on a plant we call 'wheat' on this world." She was from another planet, I supposed.

"Of course I've had bread," she said, a sparkle returning to her eyes. "But this is the best I've ever tasted."

Porter laughed then. "That's what she says at every inn," he explained. He liked this girl.

"Not every one," she said, objecting. "The one with the pig on the sign didn't have good bread." She turned to me. "It really didn't. It's a good thing we only stopped there for a snack and some rest. I couldn't have stayed there overnight."

Porter buttered another piece and handed it to her. "Thank you," she said, giving him a gracious smile.

I frowned at him. Was he flirting with my soon-to-be-wife? He lifted his hands to me, palms up, and she looked back and forth between us.

"So, you two are friends?" she said, addressing the question to Porter.

"Aye," he said, grinning stupidly at me. I rolled my eyes.

"For how long?" she asked, taking another bite of bread and chewing.

"A long time," Porter said. "Since we were boys. What was it? Ten, Jesse?"

"When you came to the village with Uncle Mirek? You were ten. I remember because you wanted to kiss Isabella behind the tree. I said you couldn't until she was ten, too."

"Ah, Isabella," he said, glancing over at the innkeeper's wife. She was putting down food onto a different table. He sighed as if in remembrance. Well, he'd had Isabella too, probably more times than me.

"You've known each other since you were ten? I guess that's why you trusted him to find you a wife," she said, watching me carefully to see how I would react to her comment.

"It's a little complicated," I said, not wanting to get into an involved conversation.

"No kidding. Apparently it's complicated enough that Porter can't tell me a damn thing about it. It's been three weeks!"

I wondered why Porter couldn't find me one without a potty mouth. I didn't say a word, but my expression must have revealed my feelings. She looked at me quickly.

"Oh, shit. I'm not supposed to swear, am I?"

Porter laughed. "It's not befitting a lady," I said.

"Why didn't you tell me before? You've been letting me swear the whole time," she said, frowning at Porter accusingly.

"It was cute," he said. "I didn't have the heart to tell you to stop."

She huffed out her breath, but I could tell she enjoyed his teasing. Of course she did. Porter had charmed my bride. Great. I never could compete with him with girls. Her eyes cut over to me, and she became serious again.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop it." But she looked like she wasn't sure she could. "I guess I'm not what you were expecting in a wife."

I looked at Porter. That was a loaded question. "Like I said, it's complicated."

"You didn't answer the question," she said, pointing at me with a spoon. Isabella had brought us some stew and more bread. "I've waited three weeks for the answer, so please don't make me wait any longer."

I sighed. "Fine. It's going to come out sooner or later. You might as well know that they've branded me. I'm a Renegade."

"A Renegade? What's that?" Porter shook his head when I looked at him.

"You must be aware that we have particular laws on our planet that ban the possession of certain things."

"Oh, yes. Things. I had to leave behind a lot of things before I beamed down. I heard about your laws."

The way she said laws made me think she didn't like them very much.

"When I was young and stupid, I found some prohibited items. Instead of turning them over to the authorities immediately, I kept them for a bit."

"You did?"

"Yes. It was foolish. I was tattooed with an R on my shoulder to mark me as a Renegade. It's what we call anyone who is misguided, messes around with things, and gets caught."

"I see. I don't agree with everything, but I think I understand."

"No woman in this village or any other will have me because of the incident," I said. "That's why I needed Porter's help to find me a bride. My father is ill, and I must inherit to ensure the farm stays in our family. To do that, I need a wife."

She looked at me. "That sucks."

I blinked at the unusual use of the word. Of course, we spoke Standard. Everyone does. It's the language used throughout the entire galaxy. However, since we had little contact with the outside universe, our version of Standard drifted and missed some vocabulary.

Sucks, like a baby hundinlark sucks at its mother's teats? She seemed to be implying I was having bad luck. That was partially true, but I had also made an incorrect decision which hadn't had much to do with luck, but everything to do with stupidity.

"He was lucky," Porter said. There was that word luck again. "It could have been a lot worse. They were lenient because he was only a boy."

"Sounds like they ruined your life." She turned to me with sympathetic eyes.

"At least he still has a life."

Porter was cut off then when a man came thundering down the stairs and into our room, heading out the door. Men in dark navy suits clattered down after him, one of them with a small sledgehammer over his shoulder, the other with a crossbow out and an arrow loaded. He was almost to the door when they started shouting.

"Bar the door. Don't let him escape."

Immediately, two patrons stepped between the fleeing man and the door. If they hadn't assisted the Bureau of Purity, they would have been in trouble themselves. No one crossed the Bureau. The poor soul skidded to a stop, and his eyes darted around as he looked for another escape route.

He didn't find anyone to help him. We couldn't. The two men grabbed him before he could get away.

Porter and I looked at each other in consternation. What were they doing this far out? My woman watched the confrontation with worry in her eyes. Porter ducked down under the table to hide, pretending he had dropped his fork.

The restrained man chose the only option he had left. He punched one of the Bureau men in the face and somehow spun out of their grasp. He made a break for the kitchen. I guess he hoped there would be an escape route for him.

The men from the Bureau had dropped their weapons in the scuffle. They grabbed their crossbows and went out the front door without saying anything. The rest of us spilled out after them, eager for a show. All of us except Porter. He remained hidden inside the building.

They split up, each going around one side of the building. In a moment, we all heard a scream. They came back dragging a body.

As they came closer to the crowd, I could see the man had an arrow in his back, straight through the heart. He was gasping, but it wouldn't be for long.

"I can't believe it," my fiancee whispered, her face appalled.

Well, that was the idea. Punish offenders completely so they wouldn't think of dissenting.

"This man possessed high technology items," they shouted. "When we tried to arrest him, he ran. He has received his punishment, and it was just."

I looked at the man. His eyes were glazed, and he had stopped breathing.

"Is he dead?" she whispered, her face white.

"He would have been executed eventually, even if they left him alive," I replied.

The other Bureau agent had been searching the body. Finally, he held up an offending device, threw it on the ground, and smashed it repeatedly with the sledgehammer until nothing remained but dust. We all watched in silence.

"Yordbrook will remain free from technology," one of the men spoke into the silence. "We will protect you from the evil. There will never be a return to the chaos that came after the bombs. We will protect you from all such things and the people who use and hide them."

In unison, we said, "Thank you."

The other man was struggling to hold the dead body from under its arms. They walked away, dragging it with them, heading for the wagons and carriages.

Now that the show was over, everyone turned away and resumed their activities. It would be something to talk about for days in a part of the planet where nothing exciting ever happened. I suspected the man was on the run, and they had finally caught up with him.

"Annalee?" I felt concerned. She appeared faint. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head. "Let's go back inside."

We found Porter upstairs in a room he had reserved for the next few days.

"I'll feel better if you talk," she said, looking back and forth between the two of us.

"We created the Bureau of Purity years after the catastrophe that marked the end of The Before Times," I said, telling the beginning of a story I had heard many times before.

"What catastrophe?"

Porter and I glanced at each other.

"We had a disaster. A war nearly destroyed everyone on Yordbrook. When our ancestors finished rebuilding afterward, they decided that if there wasn't any technology to create such destruction, everyone would be safe."

"Who were they?"

"That was the Bureau of Purity," I said, feeling nauseated. "They enforce the law, which usually means hunting down Renegades or members of the Underground and destroying their technology. They typically take Renegades back to the capital."

"Why did they kill him?" she asked, looking as if she might be sick to her stomach.

"Because he refused to go quietly."

"Would he have died anyway?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Yes. There's no need for a trial if they catch you possessing prohibited items. The only sentence is death," Porter said. I looked at her, rubbing my shoulder.

"But they were lenient with you," she said, frowning. I nodded. "Because you were underage. I'm beginning to think that being branded a Renegade and being shunned by your people was a blessing in disguise. What is this place doing to me?"

She looked around at the inn and the beautiful green fields beyond it. One of the suns had already descended under the horizon, and the other two were retreating as well. Except for the Bureau, Yordbrook was idyllic. I remembered the stories about The Before Times and how ugly the planet became.

In our time, no vehicles polluted the air with smoke or noise. No wires crisscrossed the sky. No buildings blocked out the suns. I had to admit that our ancestors had the right idea when they colonized the planet, but they hadn't gone about it the right way.

Annalee and I made our goodbyes quickly. We needed to get home.

Porter said he would see us at the wedding. I wondered why he was leaving so abruptly, but I could guess. Watching the Bureau of Purity at work always put me on edge as well.

"You're a dead man walking," she said thoughtfully.

"Pretty much. It was fortunate for me that I was underage at the time and they let me live. Most Renegades either reoffend or they join the Underground."

"What's that?"

"It's a rebel group that wants technology to be a regular part of life again for our people. They're not too creative with their naming, but they're excellent at hiding themselves. King Murtaugh, our current ruler, is efficient and brought the Bureau to their current level of effectiveness and cruelty."

"You still have a king?"

"We are a monarchy combined with a representative council. Each county has a voice, no matter how large or how small. The king and the council cooperate on most things."

"Does the Underground really risk their lives to try to bring technology back to your planet?"

"That's right."

"It sounds crazy. Those Bureau guys were brutal."

"People who volunteer for the Underground have to be a little messed up in the head," I said. "Let's go home now. Father is expecting us."

She nodded but froze when she spotted the blood in the dirt where the man had bled from his wound. I didn't know what she was thinking, but she looked terrified as she rubbed the back of her hand compulsively.

I was fortunate those drops of blood weren't mine. I was afraid too. The Bureau of Purity was no joke.

I definitely was crazy.

The question was, would the risks I took be worth it?