4. Cherry
4
CHERRY
T o my utter (and grateful) astonishment, not only was my ticket to Elora Station paid for, but also a stay in a small-but-tidy room. Though I still didn’t have any fresh clothes to change into, or enough money to buy a whole new outfit, I was at least able to have a hot shower and lay down in a clean bed.
Not that I slept. Not a damn wink. Nerves ate up my belly as I alternated between worrying about Magnus’ men finding me here and worrying about how tomorrow would go. I was to report to a human-Zabrian liaison office at 9am station-time for orientation and more details on the program. According to the data pamphlet that had downloaded itself onto my comms tablet, I’d get more information on the ranching outpost world and Zabrian culture so that I would be able to make an informed decision on whether to go or not.
But in my heart, I already knew what I’d do. I was leaving this fucking station as soon as my Zabrian husband would have me.
Of course, I’d have to live with him. Be his partner.
And sleep with him.
I shivered and drew the covers tighter around myself. I hadn’t slept beside anybody else except Mama, whom I’d shared a bed with in our tiny one-bedroom apartment.
I’d had sex before, but only with human men on Terratribe I. I’d seen more alien males on my walk through Elora Station to these temporary sleeping quarters than I’d seen in my entire twenty-six years of life. I cast my mind’s eye back over the various beings in the crowds and wondered if there was any one of those species that I would be wholly and utterly incapable of having sex with. There had been some distinctly beetle-looking bipeds and the thought of getting naked with one of them made my stomach clench queasily. But I was not in the position to be picky, here.
I’d marry a beetle man if I had to. Hell, maybe I would be the weird one to him.
Although the Zabrian Empire was recruiting human women for this bride program, so we humans couldn’t be too unattractive to them. Hopefully.
The last thing I wanted was for my future husband to get one look at me and flat-out change his mind and send me back. I’d have to be on my best behaviour. Make sure I won him over so that he wanted to keep me even if he thought I was less than appealing.
With these sorts of thoughts on my mind, I tossed and turned until my alarm went off at 8am station-time. I grimaced as I pulled on yesterday’s uniform, shaking my head at myself in the mirror. I guessed I didn’t have to worry about my husband rejecting me if I didn’t even get through the recruitment process. Knowing my clothing was not particularly presentable, I spent extra time trying to tame my wavy brown hair, smoothing it back into a halfway-decent braid. Once my teeth and face were clean, I figured that was as good as it was gonna get, and I headed out the door.
Terratribe I had its crowds, especially during break times or shift changes at the factory, but it never felt like this. Back home, there was always a grey drudgery attached to movement in large groups, all of us trudging off to complete our work or to get home and sleep a bit before we did it all over again the next day. But here, people moved with a happy, fizzing sort of energy, many of them with smiles on their faces. Sweet-smelling drinks were carried and shiny shopping bags dangled from claws and fingers and tentacles. And the crazy thing was that this wasn’t even as busy as Elora Station got. Elora Station followed the Old-Earth calendar system, which meant it was currently June here. From what I’d heard, this place really got popping during the Old-Earth Christmas season.
It was probably good I was here during the off-season, because even now I was overwhelmed by the sounds and the smells and the colours. Absurdly, I wished I’d brought my pan out from the bedroom of my station sleeping quarters, even though I rationally knew I’d look completely insane in my dirty uniform carrying around a massive, heavy pan caked with blood I hadn’t even scrubbed off yet. I’ll have to do that as soon as I get my hands on a sponge or a scrub brush and some oil for re-seasoning.
I moved from the outer edge of this circular floor of Elora Station to the centre where shining orbs zipped up and down in a vast column, shimmering lifts that put the creaky Terratribe I elevators to shame. I got one all to myself and spent so long gawking at how quickly the floors flashed past outside that I ended up getting off on the wrong level.
I would have turned right back around and gotten back in my zippy little orb, if it weren’t for the richest coffee-smell to have ever graced my nostrils taunting me from a small shop ahead. Deciding that I had enough time (and enough credits, barely) for a drink, I hustled through the crowds of humans and non-humans alike to the shop.
It was more like a kiosk, just a tiny counter with an opening above it. I stepped up to the counter and was greeted by a pretty human woman with shiny black hair and a name tag that read Sophie. She looked slightly familiar, as if I’d seen her before on Terratribe I. But I was probably just imagining it.
“Good morning! What can I get for you?” she said, her smile so cute that I couldn’t help smiling back.
“Coffee, please,” I told her. “Whatever’s quickest, I guess,” I added, casting my eye over a long and slightly intimidating menu.
“Got it. A black Americano, X!” she said, turning slightly. I jolted, noticing the hulking alien male in the shadows behind her, working the espresso machine. He was truly ginormous, two heads taller than Sophie, his bulky shoulders nearly busting the seams of his tight white dress shirt. Two great black horns curved out of the top of his head, and his yellow eyes burned like acid above a terrifyingly fangy snout.
I’d never seen one before, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was: a chimera. One of the Galkor Empire’s genetically modified super soldiers. A mutated monster literally built for fighting. What the hell he was doing in this tiny shop pouring coffees was anyone’s damn guess. I was even more surprised and confused when, as he passed the small cup over to the counter, what looked like a wedding ring glinted on his hand.
Sophie gave him a winsome smile and patted his bulging forearm.
She had a wedding ring, too.
Holy shit. That’s her husband?!
I spent so long looking at the curiously mismatched pair – short and tall, human and alien, smiley and growly – that Sophie had to lift the cup up into my eyeline to get my attention.
“Sorry!” I said, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. “Thank you!”
If Sophie noticed my gaping, she was generous enough not to mention it. Maybe she was used to it. A chimera holed up in a human-run station like this was bound to draw attention. Especially if he’d married one of us.
But, oddly, it made me feel a bit better about what I was about to do. Sophie looked happy with her alien husband. And X… Well, I doubted it was even possible for him to look happy with that frowny sort of snout. But as I backed away from the counter, moving to the side to make room for the next customer, I saw his heavy, dark green tail lift and gently stroke the small of Sophie’s back. Just once; impossibly gentle.
I felt stupid about it, and I blinked them away as quickly as they came, but tears actually sprang to my eyes in that moment. Tears of relief and hope and some kind of sentimental awe at the wholesome cuteness of the couple working together at this beautiful, quaint little shop.
A beautiful, quaint little shop with the best goddamn coffee I’d ever tasted to boot. Since it was only a small coffee, it was gone in an instant. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to savour the depth of the flavour before it disappeared. Jittery with nerves and caffeine, I hurried back into one of the orb lifts in the centre of the station.
My coffee run had put me a little behind schedule, so when I finally reached the quieter, less bustling floor where the office I was supposed to visit was located, it was already a couple of minutes after 9am. I raced around the circular floor, almost running right past the non-descript little office. The only reason I slowed down at all was because something pink inside had caught my eye. As I skidded to an awkward stop, my factory boots squeaking on the immaculately clean floor, I realized the pink thing I’d just seen was somebody’s hair, seen through the clear glass of a window.
There were two human women inside the small, bright office, both of them now looking my way. I cleared my throat and wiped my hands on my dirty pants, aware of just how bad I probably looked compared to them as I stepped inside.
Both women were standing, and once again my eye went straight to that pink hair. I’d never seen hair that colour, at least not on Terratribe I. I wasn’t sure I’d ever even seen pink that pretty at all, let alone on somebody’s head. It was shiny and pale, flowing in satin-soft waves over the tall woman’s shoulders. She wore a crisp white pantsuit. Green eyes flashed from a freckled face as she nodded a coolly silent greeting at me.
The other woman was much more welcoming.
“Hey there. I’m Magnolia,” she said with a shy smile. Magnolia was wearing white as well, a strappy sundress that contrasted with the smooth richness of her brown skin. I smiled back at her and tried not to feel too grimy in my uniform.
“Cherry,” I said, holding out my hand to shake human-style.
“Cherry!” Magnolia repeated, her brown eyes widening slightly. “Like, the fruit?”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh. “Most people don’t know that! At least, not on Terratribe I.”
She smiled again, wider this time, showing an adorable gap between her front teeth.
“I’m from Terratribe II,” she explained. “Cherries galore over there. And magnolias. That’s a type of flower.”
“Fruits and flowers. We go well together,” I said, deciding I liked her already. She shook my hand with a friendly firmness, tossing her thick, curly black hair – tied in two long braids – behind her shoulders when she let go.
“I’m Darcy,” the taller woman said. She narrowed her eyes at my outstretched hand but eventually did shake it.
“So I guess you guys are also here for this whole mail-order bride thing?” I asked. I meant it to come out sounding light-hearted, but my voice cracked, turning my words into squeaky staccato.
Darcy nodded once, and Magnolia looked like she was about to say something in agreement, but she was cut off by the sound of a door closing somewhere deeper in the office, followed by crisp, efficient footsteps. Another human woman appeared, her blonde hair tied neatly back.
“Welcome!” she said. “I’m your human-Zabrian liaison Tasha. I’m here to explain the new Zabrian bride program to you!”
She indicated chairs. Darcy, Magnolia, and I sat down as she launched into a memorized presentation about the Zabrian outpost. Apparently, it was a colony made up entirely of Zabrian males who occupied themselves with various ranching and farming endeavours.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Magnolia whispered from beside me. She’d grown up on Terratribe II, so she likely knew a lot about farming. I knew diddly-freaking-squat about the topic, but I’d always been a hard worker and I was used to manual labour. I was sure I could figure it out.
“Why aren’t they recruiting Zabrian women?” That harsh-edged question came from Darcy, and frankly, it was a damn good one. One I hadn’t let myself look at head-on because too much thinking about it might make me want to back out. And backing out meant getting chopped up and chucked in a very cold lake.
A pinch appeared between Tasha’s pale brows.
“That actually has not been made entirely clear,” she admitted. “The Zabrian people do have a fairly rigid honour and caste system. It’s possible that Zabrian females aren’t interested, or aren’t allowed by their families, to journey to this remote outpost planet to marry the men there.”
We all absorbed this. Something felt a bit wrong with that answer, but what the hell did I know about Zabrian culture? Tasha didn’t look like she was lying.
“I couldn’t find an image of a Zabrian on my comms tablet. Will we get to know what they look like?” Magnolia asked. “Not that it… I mean, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. As long as he’s kind and respectful and everything…”
Tasha nodded firmly.
“Oh, yes. We have been assured in the strongest possible terms that no mistreatment of you will be tolerated. Each province on the Zabrian outpost has a warden-”
“Warden?” I repeated, catching on the odd word.
Tasha waved away my concern. “I think it’s just an awkward translation from Zabrian. The warden is basically a government official, representing the authority of the Empire on the outpost planet. If you participate in the program, you will travel first to his office, and from there you’ll meet your husbands. Warden Tenn will be your point of contact if anything is amiss with your Zabrian husband.”
I nodded. That was good, I guessed. We wouldn’t be entirely on our own out there.
“And no, I’m sorry,” she said, turning back to Magnolia. “I don’t have any images of a Zabrian male. They are rather notorious for not submitting their information to the wider universal databases, and trade with them is limited, though there may be one or two on Elora Station right now. But I have spoken via video call with Warden Tenn, and I can tell you that they are humanoid. Two arms, two legs, a prehensile tail. I’m not sure if the colouring varies between them, but Warden Tenn had violet-coloured skin and long white hair. He wore a wide-brimmed hat that cast a lot of his face in shadow, but he wasn’t bad looking. I’d say he was rather striking, in fact. Very strong jaw. Extremely tall.”
She paused, her gaze looking far-off, before she shook her head and brought herself back into the present moment with visible effort. “Anyway. If you step out of the shuttle, take a look at your husband-to-be, and decide you don’t want to go through with it, that is acceptable.”
“And kind of mean,” Magnolia murmured to herself.
“Once you are married, though,” Tasha continued, “you will be expected to remain on the planet with your husband for at least one full month, barring any serious issues or abuse, of course. After that month, if you are not happy with the arrangement, you will be allowed to return to Elora Station. Warden Tenn will send me an update when you travel there next month to ensure everything goes smoothly.”
“Hold on,” I said, sitting up straighter in my chair. “Did you say next month?” It was only halfway through June station-time. That meant at least two more weeks of being on Elora Station, waiting for Magnus’ men to show up and stomp my sorry ass. “Can’t we go any sooner?”
Tasha raised her eyebrows at me.
“I suppose that means you’re accepting the terms of the program?”
“Yes!” I said impatiently. I tried to quiet myself, to not sound quite so desperate, as Darcy gave me a suspicious look and Tasha cocked her head. “But I’m just… eager! To get started. And meet my husband. Is there any way to go sooner than that?”
Infuriatingly, Tasha shook her head.
“Everything has been arranged for next month,” she said, not unkindly. “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic about the program, though!” She smiled at Magnolia, who smiled back, and Darcy, who didn’t. “Have you two decided if you’d like to proceed to the next stage?”
Magnolia hesitated for a moment, then appeared to steel herself and nodded firmly. “Yes. I’m in,” she said.
Darcy sighed. “Me, too.”
“Wonderful!” Tasha said, looking relieved in a startled sort of way, like she hadn’t expected this to be quite so easy. I eyed Magnolia, then Darcy, wondering what drove them to agree to participate in this program.
Were they running from something just like I was?
“Well, if we’re all decided,” Tasha went on, beaming and nodding, “we can move on to the next stage!”