Chapter 24 Laura
TWENTY-FOUR
LAURA
The red planet that started as a blister in the window quickly turns into a big throbbing boil. It’s as red as Mars, with ochre and gray pockets across the surface.
It seems very quiet. Peaceful. Except for how close Dom stands to me, his scales alternately hardening with little clicks and then easing up. It’s a stress response.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
No. I shake my head. Traveling through space with Dom has been nice, including a few days for shark week where we didn’t have sex and he took my period pain from me again. Definitely an upside to this connection, but not enough to counterbalance the disastrous downsides.
The planet gets bigger quickly. Soon we're skirting the edge of the atmosphere, the thick glass of the cockpit dimming slightly to stop us from getting blinded. Still, I put my hand over Shade to give him a bit of shelter.
I chuck my chin at the smudges of gray underneath us. “What are those?”
“All ancient cities.” His hands harden into fists. “They were ruined by wars over resources. Now such events are behind us.”
“How long ago was that?”
He tips his head from side to side. “A hundred Earth years or so.”
I press my nose to the glass. Fairly recent scars, as these things go.
“Once, Oloria was a jewel, a bountiful planet with clean water, fresh food and livestock, like the farm. But when we pushed our nature too far, it faltered. Males persevered, convinced they were masters of the planet. Females preserved what they could, but it was too late. Then males went to war and made everything worse.”
His story is backed up by the skeletal remains of twisted metal and the endless sand dunes stretching out to either side as the ship flies lower, but I've always questioned all evidence.
“Is that the story you've been told?”
He turns his head with a frown. “It's the truth.”
“Says who? The females?”
“Yes.” He falls into silence as the ship slides smoothly through a cloud bank, but I can hear his mind ticking over, a churn of uncertainty. It's a murmur in the background, like having a TV show on for white noise.
It's not so loud with just him, and his mind is calmer now he's not trying to be everywhere at once protecting Nevare and helping Arik. He does a lot for his wave brothers.
I hope they appreciate that. When Dom gets back, I’m sure they’ll be glad to see him, especially all in one piece.
“It's going to be okay,” I say out loud. “I'll just go in, tell them you're under my protection, and ask to see the All-Mother. Shara, isn't it?”
“That's correct.” His hand moves toward my back, then away.
My stomach cramps with nerves, but it quickly eases. Dom's probably taking that from me. I open my mouth to tell him to stop, but we're nearly there. I think, anyway. A glint of gold winks along the horizon, getting bigger and bigger.
He takes a deep breath. “When we land and you open the door, move away from me. Whatever happens, you'll be safe.”
“Dom, I've got this.” I try to project confidence with every single bit of it I have.
With a smile, he presses a kiss to my forehead. It's a homey, absolutely endearing gesture I see little old gentlemen do with their aged wives on their arms as they grow old gracefully together. My cheeks warm as I let myself rest against his hard chest.
The ship shudders. Hard. My heart leaps into my throat, breath hitching mid-inhale.
The warmth drains from my skin; I’m suddenly cold all over, hands slick with sweat as my fingers dig into his scales.
My pulse pounds in my ears. All that projected confidence splinters, leaving me with a raw jolt of fear.
My vision narrows, black creeping in at the edges.
I can’t seem to pull enough air into my lungs, every breath too shallow, too fast.
But it’s too late. The city takes shape, a sprawling set of towers arranged in semi circles, all gold, tan and mahogany.
There's not a single piece of greenery in sight, small crafts in bright colors zipping underneath us like hummingbirds, jumping from building to building as if they're sampling nectar.
I can’t show weakness now. I stand up straighter, lean away from Dom so I’m standing on my own.
The ship slows, wavering as it gets close to a wide open space in the center, and a blast of guttural sounds burst from its speakers.
“I'll answer that on your behalf.” Dom strides to the pilot's console, tapping a button and responding in his own language.
“What did you tell them?” I ask once he straightens up.
“That you're an important female here on business, and I'm a returning exile.”
“Dom! What the hell.” I barely resist the urge to tear at my hair.
“It's the truth.” He swivels to face the open door to the dining area and luxury lounge seats, staring at the entry door.
The ship hisses as it settles, then all the lights on the console flicker off one by one. Only the soft purr of the engine remains.
“Right.” I straighten my shirt with a tug and slide Shade in my breast pocket. “I'll ask to speak to their leader. Yes.”
I stride to the door, and Dom keeps up with me. “Stay back, Dom, I've got this. Better yet, put your hands on your head, alright?”
“What will that do?”
“Show you're unarmed and no danger to them.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I don't need to be armed to be dangerous. If I were the Apex, I could scramble their brainwaves from here.”
“But you aren't the Apex.”
“They don't know that, until they scan my chip or have another Apex read me.”
He's very calm, almost like he's post orgasm and super relaxed, his mind a series of gentle rolling hills.
Or resigned.
No. He's relaxed because I'm in charge, and I am. Even when there's alien shit flying around, I'm in control.
“Open the door, please.”
Dom taps a panel and the door slides to the floor and then out, making a ramp. It settles to the stone with a clank, and alien atmosphere hits me like a truck.
The air in this city steams, hot and close. Sweat instantly stands out on my arms, each breath tasting sticky sweet like candyfloss floating in the heat. I'm a product of a cold climate; I don't appreciate humidity dense enough to swim in.
Fanning the end of the ramp are more Doms. Fascinating. I'm used to seeing the triplets, but there's got to be twenty of them here, and they're all staring at me. Their expressions match, a wide-eyed awe directed square at me, small weapons in their hands raised but not pointing at me.
“Hello. I'm Laura Thomas. I'd like to speak with your All-Mother, please.”
No one moves.
“They can't understand you,” Dom says from the side of the door. His eyes are closed, an uncomfortable stretching sensation tightening between us as he tries to reach as far as he can with his psychic ability.
“Oh. Yes. Right. What do I do now, mime?”
“Speak to them and their nanites will learn,” Dom prompts.
“What about?”
“Anything.”
Beyond the circle of purple aliens are others.
There’s so much variety, with all colors of scales from turquoise to sky blue to bright yellow, some with hair, some with spikes.
They're all shirtless apart from some willowy types with breasts and long gauzy dresses who stand staring, attended by at least two other bulky colorful varieties. Those must be the females, the ones running the planet. But they aren’t coming toward us or anything useful, they’re stock still staring at me. I suppose I’m the alien invader here.
One of the Parthiastocks barks something in the silence.
“He wants me to come out,” Dom says.
“What'll he do if you did?”
Dom asks the question, and the answer is short in return.
“He'll shoot me,” Dom translates.
“Tell them to bugger off,” I snap.
Dom opens his mouth.
“Not—argh.” I spin to face him, planting my hands on either side of the doorway, heart pounding. “They are not allowed to shoot you. Tell them.”
Dom shouts something back in his language. The silence continues.
“They’re… considering those orders,” he reports, as if he’s commenting on the weather.
How is he so serene? I catch his lilac gaze. Dom’s impossibly calm, as if the fact they're planning to shoot him doesn’t matter at all. He's given his entire life over to me, placing his trust in my hands without hesitation.
It’s the ultimate commitment. I can't let him down.
Turning back to the Parthiastocks, I steady myself. I need to say something, anything, that will get through to them. The gang said that by speaking, the alien’s nanites will start to understand English. Right now, I can say whatever I want.
“You’re not allowed to shoot Dom,” I tell them firmly. “He’s with me.”
Finally saying it out loud makes a thrill roll through me.
“But he’s more than that,” I continue. “Dom’s kind, understanding, and empathetic. If you ask him to, he'll move mountains for the people he cares about. He always gives to others, never thinking about himself.”
Beside me, Dom’s breath catches. I glance at him and find his eyes shining.
“So no shooting, got it?” I demand of the others.
Their eyes meet mine, each of them echoing that same awe, as if they’ve never heard someone speak this way before.
“I wonder how many of you are as kind as he is. I bet a few of you are.”
A world of Dom’s. Thoughtful, loyal, patient. It’s… actually kind of wonderful to imagine.
Because he's seen every side of me, the hard-working professional and the messy, emotional, real me. The terrified and broken parts of me, the jagged edges I hide. He's accepted it all, without judgement. Accepted me.
Taking a deep breath, I step forward and descend the ramp, one slow step after another. The Parthiastocks remain still, watching me with rapt attention, their weapons at their hips.
I’m about to set foot on alien ground when one of them swings up his gun. Gunshot cracks through the air, and a flash of pain in my head sparks briefly, quickly snuffed out.
A heavy thump behind me sends dread tearing through my stomach like acid.
No.