Chapter Two #2
Torz pensively stared into his thoughts, the scar across his brow deepening with the frown.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if her political views have sparked unrest. Her remarks of late have been somewhat…
questionable. Although, the attacks are gaining her sympathy voters.
Nevertheless, I’m taking precautions. I won’t let Delta Ring look incompetent. ”
And he wasn’t lying…
The number of checkpoints and security milling about the Delta Ring docks raised my curiosity about how important Governor Zuli’s visit actually was.
As Torz and I walked the curving, metallic halls towards the docks, my eyes assessed every person, every activity taking place in and around our path, from luggage dispatch, passport control, to couples coddling.
But in the corner of my eye, Torz flicking his gaze my way unnerved me as a wave of amusement danced across our redundant bond.
“You didn’t have to come fully armed, Rems,” his low voice rumbled playfully. “One gun would’ve been adequate.”
Checking the set of daggers sheathed at my thigh, then the guns and security baton around my hips, I reminded him, “You asked me to assist, so I’m assisting in the best way I know how.”
“You’re trying to look scary again.”
“And? I’m military security. I’m not a pink and fluffy kinda girl.”
He chuckled, the sound breaching a well of warmth and wanting deep inside me.
The number of times I had contemplated transferring to another station because of that damn feeling—I’d lost count.
The allure was becoming unbearable, and working so closely together didn’t help.
Why hadn’t he asked Petra to assist him today?
She was older and friendlier than me—less frowny.
I would’ve been content completing my security walks on the lower levels on my own.
“Well, keep the warrior scowl to a minimum. I’m aiming to ease Zuli’s anxieties, not heighten them.”
My grumbling response was knocked from my throat as someone barraged past, pushing Torz into me. Torz cursed, straightening his jacket, all the while watching the culprits—a young couple heading for a streamlined atmospheric ship docked at Airlock 7B. Its destination—Quoram.
“Must be new Damsons,” Torz muttered, scowling at the pair who smiled and laughed as they raced down the transparent tunnel, hand in hand, to their transport.
A swirl of emotions clenched at my stomach, but I purposely dampened their effect, hoping Torz hadn’t felt the surge.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Torz envied them like I did.
To be able to start a fresh, healthier life on the surface of Quoram, simply because they were neurologically bonded.
The Damson bond was a phenomenon. Without it, an individual would perish if they stepped foot on the planet, suffering a painful and withering death.
Some said those who survived the initial physical affliction endured an unforgiving spate of insanity that eventually killed them.
No one in their right mind would attempt to live there without the Damson bond. It was simply impossible.
Station life was comfortable, but what I’d give to feel raindrops tapping against my face. To breathe air that hadn’t been recycled thousands of times over. To pick ready-to-eat, freshly grown food—especially that.
Don’t get me wrong, food was grown aboard the twelve Orbital Stations, but it was a poor substitute to the mouthwatering stock transported in from Quoram. But those rare samples were often half-spoiled by the time they left customs.
Overwhelmed with the emotions I continually fought these days, I continued to observe the joyous couple as they filtered through the airlock, squeezing themselves past a timid-looking teenage girl exiting the ship. From the violet-glint of her dark hair, it was obvious she was Quoram-born.
On the flip side to the Damson phenomenon, every child born on the heavenly planet would be forced to leave by twenty.
Without a Damson, the detrimental effect the planet plagued upon humans would take hold.
So, they left their home, coming up to the Orbital Stations, waiting—hoping—they’d find their soulmate so they could return to the world where they were born.
Thankfully, I was station-born. Empathy could not truly perceive the loneliness of having to leave the only family and home you’d ever known, to then come and live in the harsh vacuum of space with strangers.
The closest thing I’d felt to that reality was losing my mum at seventeen. There really was no easy way to cope.
Taking in the fear on the teenager’s face, I stopped in front of her and offered a small smile. “Are you looking for the rehoming office?” I asked gently.
Lifting her sad, purple-tinged irises to me, she nodded. Gods, she must’ve only been fourteen or fifteen.
I pointed along the corridor to where a blue sign hung over one of the several doorways lining the internal wall. “It’s just there. Ask for Fifi.”
Timidly, she thanked me, and I resumed my course, only to find Torz waiting five steps ahead, smirking at me with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re so scary, Rems,” he whispered, his smirk transforming into a grin. “So scary.”
Snorting to myself, I walked on, glancing back at the young girl as I fell in step with Torz. She had inched towards the rehoming office, her reluctance and fear rippling off her hesitant steps and sunken shoulders. I hoped she’d be okay.
“The governor’s ship is docking.” Torz increased his pace, and I snapped my gaze ahead to the airlock tunnel we were approaching. Sure enough, a sleek navy-blue executive liner was aligning with the airlock.
We came to a halt at the inner end of the transparent tunnel and, after several minutes, the doors hissed open.
Torz straightened his broad posture, pushing his chin out with an authoritative air.
Dressed in his formal black uniform, proudly displaying the small D embroidered on the upright collar and the three silver slashes stating his rank on his shoulder, he was the stature of command.
His expression was firm and calculative, his now-dry, floppy dark hair neatly swept out of his eyes, and his square jaw freshly shaven.
But he didn’t fool me. I sensed his consternation. We rarely had official visitors to Delta Ring, and perhaps he’d become a little too complacent about the prohibited activities he secretly oversaw.