one
Molly
Her mother set the table while her dad ran the grill. Her brothers and their wives had brought the kids, and the kids’ rambunctious horseplay filled the silence. Molly could never breathe or think on these Fridays, ever since the draft began ten years ago.
As Molly always did on one of these Fridays, she set a place for her eldest brother too, and her mother placed a flower across it. Her brother, and so many others, had died trying to defend Earth from the Suhlik invasion.
For Earth, everything had been almost lost before the Mahdfel came. The Mahdfel turned the tide, gave Earth not only a fighting chance but a victory. Earth was saved.
But Earth’s salvation came at a price.
The Suhlik and Mahdfel had been at war for longer than Mahdfel memory. For not only did the Suhlik ravage worlds, but they enslaved its survivors. They’d taken the Mahdfel and changed them, at the DNA level, into soldier slaves. To keep the Mahdfel population under control, the Suhlik had changed the Mahdfel so it was almost impossible to find compatible mates, and if they did, they could only bear more male children, no females. The Mahdfel lived constantly on the edge of extinction.
To continue their fight, the Mahdfel sought one thing from the worlds they saved from the Suhlik: a chance to find compatible females until they eradicated the Suhlik or at least undid what the Suhlik had done to them.
On Earth, a draft was implemented, selecting random women to be tested to see if they were compatible to a Mahdfel male. If matched, the woman would get instantly transported to a mate she’d never met to bear his son.
If all that wasn’t bad enough, there was one additional snag: sometimes the match didn’t quite take, and the pregnancy would kill the mother and baby.
The Suhlik had engineered a wicked and costly punishment for the Mahdfel: they could only bear male children; they could rarely find anyone who could match with them; and when they beat all those odds, the pregnancy might kill their mate in the process.
Setting the place for her lost brother was a way to remind herself that it was okay. Things could have been so much worse. To prevent her entire planet being lost, to prevent the Mahdfel from going extinct, she could do her part for the resistance.
Her dad always closed his hardware store at noon on one of these days, and the family gathered at her home. It started casually enough, but now, she couldn’t imagine going through this without their support.
Mostly Molly stared at her plate or studied her family’s faces, in case it was the last time she saw them. Her brothers carried on their conversation around her, never directing questions at her or expecting a coherent answer.
Molly was staring at a bird in a nearby tree when her mother reached over and squeezed her hand. “Molly, it’s time.”
The image of the bird froze in her mind: blue and beautiful and free. It leapt into the air, and she watched as it swooped to the ground and back to the sky.
Only then could she bring herself to look at her mom.
“You got this, kid.” Her mom leaned toward her, touching foreheads, still holding her hand. “It’ll be okay.”
Molly pulled back, managed a smile for her brothers, and a quick dip of her head. She couldn’t meet her dad’s eyes — nothing to get worked up about yet — but she knew that her dad had the most trouble of all of them with the uncertainty of the draft.
Then she realized she’d left her phone in the kitchen next to the bowl of marinade. Her heart started to flutter, and her stomach sunk to her shoes.
“I don’t think I can get up,” she joked.
“Hey,” her brother Max said. “I got you.” He pulled out his phone, tapped it twice on the table for luck, and slid it across the table.
They’d always given her this. She was the only girl in her family. She didn’t know why, but she needed it this way: She didn’t want to be told; she wanted to see it for herself.
She clasped the phone, tapped it twice on the table to receive the luck, and launched the app. Molly scrolled through the short list, studying it, honing in on what she saw. Finally. It was almost a relief to have the suspense over with. She’d always known — or at least a part of her had known — with that dead, sinking feeling on these Fridays; her numbers would show up eventually.
She placed the phone carefully on the table, returned her hands to her lap.
“Mom, I think I might be there.”
Molly kept her eyes on the table, not wanting to look at anyone as she tried to process what she’d always known would happen, but had somehow hoped would never happen.
Molly tried to keep calm inside. She was only being called for the testing. There was still a chance — a good chance — she wouldn’t actually be matched to anyone. Her stomach felt hollow and heavy though.
Her mom pulled the phone over as the silence continued endlessly. The kids had been mercifully sent away to play in the yard several feet away.
Her mother didn’t say anything, but Molly felt an arm wrap around her shoulders and give her a squeeze.
Her father broke the silence with a stiff voice. “You’re packed? In case they call us for it. You’ll give them our number?”
“Yes.” She risked a glance up. Her father was moving his glass about the table, tapping it down, then moving it to smear the water ring.
Molly heard the crunch of tires on the drive.
“That’ll be them,” her father said.
Nobody moved.
“I’ll miss you all,” Molly managed. She wanted to get all the words in she could, in case it really happened. “If I can, I’ll try to contact you.”
Matches were so rare, and her county had such a small population, that she was only aware of three girls that had been matched so far. Molly had no idea if she would be able to contact home …if …after. They hadn’t heard anything much about the others who’d been selected before.
They heard the crunch of soldier boots coming around the house. Molly’s family had hung a sign in the door: “Out back.”
Her brothers — four of them — tall, handsome, solid, good guys, placed their hands non-threateningly on the table. There had been stories of less than happy collections.
The leader of the soldiers asked, “Molly Galloway?”
“Here,” she said. She found suddenly she could stand. Her name had released her from her fear.
“Good.” The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, about Max’s age. “You can have three minutes to say your good-byes,” he said sternly.
She stared at her family hoping they would close the distance, because she couldn’t do it.
Her brothers and parents came up in a clamor and surrounded her. She was hugged and kissed. They said things in a tumble that she couldn’t process, but it filled her heart with warmth.
She said ‘I love you’ a million times.
Her mother stuffed something into her pocket, a note of some kind. Her mother kissed her cheek, clasped her face. “We love you, sweetie. Be good.”
Her dad reached forward, and his bottom lip trembled slightly before he could stop it.
“Feed Palo and Alto for me?” she mumbled as he pulled her into a big hug. Even though this had all been arranged when she bought them — nothing to be said about the fish — the words had tumbled out anyway.
“Course,” he said. His bear hug crushed more of the fear out of her; out it went through her ribs.
She pulled back, and the soldiers were waiting patiently by the entrance to the backyard.
Her dad slid his arm around her back, so they could walk together to the soldiers.
As her family drew close to the soldiers, her dad gave her a peck on the cheek. “You’ll come back to us, girl. You know the shop won’t last long without your level-head.”
The soldier called toward his vehicle. “We’re clear here.”
A nurse came forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Galloway? We’ll take it from here. I’ll be with her the whole time. Let you know how things go.”
Things blurred in Molly’s mind as she crossed the gate’s threshold. Her family started to follow. “It’s okay. I— I got this.”
Molly turned to look at them as the lead soldier crossed through and closed the gate between them. She memorized their faces.
“Max, you’ll pack my badge in my suitcase for me?” It was so silly to get sentimental about a job she didn’t even like. To his credit, Max raised his eyebrows but only nodded.
“Miss, you’ll need to bring your things with you.”
“It’s in my room, on my bed,” she managed toward Max.
“Right this way,” the nurse said, all business. Apparently the soldiers would get her bag from Max.
Once they’d loaded up, as the vehicle pulled into the road, the nurse commented, “You have a lovely family.”
Molly watched as her family waved. The kids leapt about joyfully like grasshoppers, too young to understand.
“We’re a couple hours from the center. We have the newest releases here — not even in theaters yet — if you’d like to take your mind off things?”
Molly pointed at a random cover as her eyes clouded with tears. It was crazy to think that she might not be here when these movies made it to the theaters. What a strange thing, never to see Earth again.
The sound of the opening credits filled the compartment, and Molly settled back to stare without seeing, grateful for the noise and distraction.
She could feel the lump in her pocket from her mother’s note but avoided touching it. To touch it would make it real, make it necessary to read. She hoped to return it to her mother, unseen and unread.
At least by nightfall, she would be free of all this uncertainty; no draft would hold anything over her again.
~
Oz
“Everything’s set here, Captain. Should I go ahead and send, or did you have anything additional to include?”
A pause, a few crackles, and Captain Vren came back over the com. “Good timing. I was just thinking we might need to get moving. Go ahead Oz; we’re good here. We’ll send along some personal items with tomorrow’s shipment. I think we’ve about wasted this rock.”
“Understood. In 5…”
The haul hadn’t been great today, but it was something, and it granted their planet a little more time without suffering.
The teleport let out a hiss of steam and light. The miscalibration was back. Oz would need to make some repairs next time they docked, but for now, the issue was minor enough to resolve with the tools he had on hand.
As Oz went to grab his kit at the back of his engineering lab, he noticed his band blinking at his station table- silent flashes to remind them the matching selection would be today. Their planet’s council had implemented the reminders after a few heartbreaking scenarios in the quarantined zone. It meant: if you are seeing this band blink, get to a non-quarantined zone immediately, because there’s a chance you might endanger a future mate’s life.
Strange though as the crew had always been removed from the list before. He’d have to let the Captain or Fyn know; it wouldn’t be good with everything else to have a woman running about the ship.
Not his problem right now though; he had more pressing things to take care of.
Still, he grabbed the band and put it on.
Besides, the crew typically had their bands nearby. Possibly the captain had already noticed the blinking. The captain would straighten it out. Or more likely Fyn, the First Mate. Fyn was the one with influence on the council. The one who had put their crazy harvesting/research crew together and — when they’d realized their greater purpose — talked the council into removing the ship’s crew from the list.
Sometimes it felt like his crew was the only thing preventing everyone from dying on his mother’s planet. The council moved too slow, saw always a need for caution so that word would not get out to the Mahdfel about the true state of affairs on his mother’s planet.
Oz’s crew was doing what was needed — frasken rules or not — regardless of whether the council would approve of the finer details of their missions.
Oz made quick work of the repair, and soon the portal was humming along at maximum calibration. He’d need to request some additional parts from Haze, but they should be good for a month or two more, should nothing too untoward happen.
Perhaps a month was an overly optimistic view of things. They lived past the edge of safety every day.
Still the Xeo Tarlith was a good ship. Optimism was warranted, even here at the edge of Suhlik territory.
While he was at it, Oz ran some checks on ship systems and made notes of some readings off the asteroid. He’d have to re-calibrate against the crew to confirm they remained unnoticed. It was then he noticed a potentially large pocket of the mineral on the E-A4 sector, lower hemisphere, previously a dud location.
Trying to maintain his concentration, Oz quieted the sudden, excited noise in his brain. He clicked around, rechecking. The latest excavation had apparently removed some Gralyth that always messed with their sensors.
Perhaps they would need to stay where they were for a few more digs… maybe many if this was at all accurate.
“Captain,” Oz called over the com, his voice shaking slightly with excitement and his tail flicking back and forth against the desk. “I’m sending you a new reading; Priority Ass One review, captain.”
“Oz,” Fyn broke in. The First Mate was a stickler for order.
“Just check, Fyn,” Oz said putting a lid on his glee with difficulty. “You can write me up later.”
Oz adjusted a few more dials. The revealed pocket of Varstath potentially meant years of pain-free life for his mother’s people, maybe many more than that. It was the find of a lifetime. Thank stars he was such a stickler for ‘check and check again’.
All thought of his blinking band went completely out of his head as he concentrated on refining the search and sending data after promising data to the command center.
Oz was soon rewarded with a few woots from Haze over the com. “Oz, little brother, you earned your supper tonight.”
Fyn must have been excited enough too, for there was no reprimand this time.
~
Molly
“You’re the first to arrive. We can go straight through to the office here and get set up.”
“The only piece really that we need- your designee. Who should inherit the dowry?”
If she was matched to an alien, Molly would be allotted a sum of one million to compensate her for all of the trouble: losing her life on Earth and the possible actual loss of her life, should she die from the pregnancy.
“My fam—” She closed her eyes, knowing what she wanted to do, but not sure if her family would understand. “Can you give half to Max and split the rest with my family?”
“Certainly.” The nurse made notes on the paper.
“Max is going to open a restaurant.”
“How nice,” the nurse murmured absently.
“—it’s to help him get started.”
“That’s nice.”
“Will you tell him?”
“Sure dear. I’ll make a note.”
It was going to be a beautiful restaurant, her restaurant. She was going to be the chef. Her brother Max was going to handle the business side of things. They’d planned for years, holding their breaths through every Draft, planning their menus and their location, only waiting to come up with the funds to take the next step.
A few minutes more and the paperwork was completed.
The nurse set out a few items on the desk.
“How long does it take for the test results?”
“Depends. It can be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes to determine if there is a viable match.”
Molly stretched out her arm to the nurse. “I guess I should just get it over with.”
“I was just getting to that part.” The nurse swiped Molly’s arm with an alcohol swab and drew a bit of blood. The nurse inserted the vial into a bit of alien tech which murmured, clicked and blinked steadily.
Molly stared at the device, trying to breathe, but it just kept right on blinking without a care.
“Hmm.” The nurse glanced at her watch after ten minutes. “That’s certainly a much longer processing time than typical. I’m not sure whether that means— hmm. Perhaps you’re a borderline match, and they haven’t decided whether it meets our requirements.” She pushed back from her seat. “Don’t worry. We have strict rules to protect you. Wait here a moment. I’ll just go check with the Director.”
Molly passed the next several minutes reading pamphlets on the wall and in the bins, her heart slowly filling with hope. Surely a match would be a quick process, although what could the hold-up possibly be about?
The nurse bustled in. “It’s terrible to keep you waiting like this. The whole affair is suspenseful enough for you girls. Let me just type in this code here, and we’ll get this moving along again.”
The device beeped three times then lit up green.
The nurse’s hand dropped to her side.
“Green means… go?” Molly asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
Molly got up shakily. “Where do I stand?”
“Right here, dear.” The nurse pointed to a small, white, plastic-looking square sunk into the floor.
The teleport. It was all happening so fast. Too fast. They did it on purpose, to get the girls on their way, before the reality of it and the panic truly sunk in.
“Will you just tell my family that I’m sorry?”
“Yes, dear, I’ll make a note of it.”
The air shimmered and shook, and the room disappeared.
Molly felt a bit of inarticulate rage come over her. “Make a note of it??” she thought and let the words spin out her anger. She hadn’t realized rationally that she’d tried to use the words as a stall tactic, even if only for a few minutes.
Wouldn’t the nurse ask: “Sorry for what, dear? You have nothing to be sorry for.” Then Molly could fill the minutes explaining all the things she was sorry for.
What? Had she hoped they’d run out of time to send her, like there was some limit to the match?
Now her family would be left wondering. Damn. Possibly they’d be left wondering forever.
It was done though.
Max would figure out something to say. He always did handle things so well with the family. Really the strange dowry allotment was easy enough to use.
Perhaps she’d only meant the sorry for Max, for now he’d have to move forward with their plan, even without her, and Max wasn’t the chef she was. She’d left ideas with him of replacements, because this had always been a possibility. …It was just the reality of life on Earth now.
Now it would truly be Max’s dream alone, with the extra burden of thinking he was doing it for her too.
She never should have put that on him.
~
Oz
While Molly had waited interminably for her fate, the men of the Xeo Tarlith were doing a bit of scrambling of their own.
“Surely you can do something?” Captain Vren asked the doctor.
Seban shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve raised the typical objections, but the Council will hear none of it. The match is too close. If I push back any more, they’ll start to ask questions. They’ve already grown concerned.”
“Does Oz know?”
“Yes, he’s waiting in med-bay. He came as soon as his wrist started beeping. Thankfully, we still have the Hold command on the relay, or we’d all be in the soup.”
“Fyn,” the captain said, turning to his First Mate. “I thought we’d registered with the Council as a dangerous assignment. Certainly our collection duties leave no place for breeding.”
“Yes, Captain.” The First Mate hesitated. “I believe you can probably thank my father for our current situation.”
Captain Vren gave a curt nod. “Yes, I’m sure of that.” He sighed. “This is not the best timing. We’re right on the edge of plausibility here.”
“Seban,” he directed to the medic. “You’ll have to send the code to the Council. Make sure they relay it along to the humans on a secure channel. We’ll need five minutes to calculate and warp to a less significant location, just in case we’ve stirred the pot enough to draw attention.”
“I’ll think of something, but hurry. I can only get so creative with the delays,” the doctor muttered as he left the command center.
“You heard the man, Xain. Let’s get back to Quartec Five.”
The pilot smirked. “What’s the kid going to do with a woman?” He laughed as he typed in the sequence to the auto-guidance and engaged the drive.
“I’m sure he’ll think of something,” the captain said as he leaned back in his seat.