Chapter 81
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
AIRIK
“Rise and shine, lover boy.”
An unfortunate chuckle from above pulled Airik out of a blue-and-black unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open, then immediately pinched shut again when met with the blindingly bright room.
“Oops… We might’ve gotten the sedative dosing wrong.” The voice he recognized as Davis’s was laced with an inappropriate amount of excitement. “For a minute there, I thought you died. The xenobiology team has been itching to get their hands on you. Had to fight them off with a stick.”
Airik pushed himself upright, an emptiness swelling inside him. He couldn’t feel his skin or muscles, even as they instinctively curled around him to shield him from the painful light. Thoughts formed but floated in a mist of numbness, just out of reach.
He tensed, noticing a white cloth had been wrapped around his chest and another around his neck. Someone had touched him to cover his wounds. His hand flew to his left boot. He let out a small sigh of relief, feeling the cool handle of his knife.
His hand brushed against something soft beside him on the springy rectangle he sat on—Nora’s braid and chain.
“You wouldn’t let it go—even after we pumped you full of tranqs.” He could hear the smile in Davis’s voice. “I figured if it’s that important to you, why not let you keep it? See, aren’t I nice?”
He pitched forward, over the side of the unstable platform he was on, with a rancid bile bubbling up his throat.
A murmur of voices drifted down from the ceiling. Too many words, and none of them made sense or were Nora.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hit the floor with a heavy, flat thud. A large tray sat beside the cot. On it was a thin black glass rectangle, similar to an omnislate. A piece of paper rested on top. He picked it up.
Turn me on, handsome.
“That’s a tablet. If you can pilot a flying saucer, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
Just swipe and tap. It’s got our laws and covenants—I suggest you memorize them,” Davis said.
“Pay close attention to the ‘xeno-warfare’ section; I made it up this morning, and you’ll be coauthoring it.
If there are any words you don’t know, there’s a dictionary.
I’ve also decided to give you access to the exo-net because I’m feeling generous and want to get on your good side. ”
A pointed, demanding silence. “Is it working?”
“Nora,” he groaned. Pain blossomed behind his eyes, throbbing as he looked up at the ceiling. “Nora.”
Several voices spoke at once, but Davis’s cut through. “So…what do you all eat? You don’t drink blood, do you?”
Airik shot a narrowed glare at the ceiling.
“Just asking to be sure—no need to look pissed off.” Davis’s joyful tone darkened, now carrying a threat and warning. “Miss Shaw is in rough shape—a lot of bites. Don’t bother lying because I know it’s you. Are you venomous?”
A fierce, red wave—violent and relentless—crashed over Airik as he envisioned hands all over his Nora’s body, touching the marks she had desired and he had given her. Her bite on his hand—his own mark—stung, and he pressed it to his chest, ignoring the sharp pain of the wound beneath.
But amid the fury, his mind seized on a sparkling detail. Davis had said is, not was. A tiny difference in a single word. Enough for the madness and love to spiral outward.
Nora was still alive. Still in this world. Still his.
“Nora,” he said again. “I want to see her.”
There was a pause before the ceiling clicked, signaling another transmission. “You’ve got everything important. Food. Water. And a place to shit. Leave waste by the hatch—someone will take it away. You’ll be in quarantine as long as I say so. Talk to you soon.”
A long, piercing sound drilled into his ears before finally cutting off.
Airik stood, swaying on unsteady legs.
The room was small, about the size of a sleeping cell.
At one end stood a tall basin with handles, with a bucket beside it that he assumed was for waste.
He groped along the walls for a panel or switch to dim the lights but found nothing.
A stack of white cloths sat on a shelf above the basin, alongside two small bottles of sharp-smelling liquids.
There was also a long stick with bristles on one end, with a tube beside it.
On the other side of the room was a window, two fingers’ width wide.
This was a prison. His respect for Davis grew—just a little—even though it was at odds with his desire to be near Nora.
The commander had recognized a threat and contained it.
At the very least, he could trust her not to do anything reckless, motivated by a practical fear of the unknown.
Though narrow, the window let him see Mars. He clutched the small ledge, leaning close to the thick glass. Brownish-red dust. A single star twinkling in a not-quite-night sky.
It was still daytime, about as dim as Vorakon’s day.
The scent of iilas fruit—sweet, welcoming, and overwhelming all at once—smothered his senses.
He pushed back, trying to escape the smell, but lost his balance and fell against a large crate. Something stirred inside, and purple-and-pink fur poked out of holes in the crate’s walls.
“Lucky.”
Disbelieving they’d let him have this, Airik sank beside the crate, frantically searching for an opening. He found a latch embedded in a wire panel, but its design was too convoluted for the dizziness gripping him. He clumsily jammed his knife into the hinges, breaking them open.
“Good boy,” Airik cried, pulling Lucky’s still-sleeping form into his arms. This wasn’t an act of kindness in giving him Lucky but a shrewd calculation and an opportunity to observe what the two of them would do. To determine how they could both be used.
After checking Lucky’s body over, he laid down in the cot with the ooshi on his chest, letting the subtle rumble of his purr settle across both of their bodies.
Ooshis could sense their owners from long distances, even when out of sight or sound.
“You will feel her,” Airik said, gently stroking the bridge of Lucky’s nose, unsure whether he was giving an order or making a wish. “If something happens, you will feel her—because she is ours.”
Day and night cycled. An attendant came to collect his waste pail, used washing cloths soaked with blood, and a tray of uneaten food. A slender, gloved hand pushed a tray of fresh food through the hatch.
Airik barely spared it a glance, sitting on the cot and stroking Lucky’s fur.
Boredom and waiting tilted into delirium. The bright lights were a form of torture, but he’d already been desensitized to bodily and psychological harm as a forgeling.
And the humans had a more effective method—withholding news of Nora from him. The sickly odor of iilas pervaded his every sense, and he no longer found any comfort in it. His fingers clutched Lucky’s fur, clinging to the possibly false hope that if Nora left him, Lucky would wake.
Time became a thick, smothering force that could grind bones.
If time moved at all, it did so without Airik.
His balance, once near perfection, was shattered.
This planet was small, with much less gravity than his body had been built for.
Any movement made him dizzy from the over-springing of his joints and muscles.
He was on a storm-battered ship, and without Nora, there wasn’t any solid ground.
His only peace was that Lucky slept, which meant Nora was alive.
When the small window outside went dark for a second night, Lucky’s purring suddenly stopped.
No.
His head jerked in Airik’s lap, a choking sound escaping from his throat.
Please, no.
“I’m here, ooshi-ti.” Airik bent to level with Lucky’s face, gently lifting him by the chin in case his injuries hadn’t fully healed.
Twitching, Lucky let out a deep, dire growl, then snapped free from his hold.
Airik froze, his arm still outstretched. “Has—has something happened to Nora—”
Lucky’s jaw clamped on his forearm.
Every one of Airik’s senses went blank, his ears barely picking up the feral growl. Pain shot up his arm in charged pulses. “Lucky—”
The creature yanked back with all the strength his weakened body had left. If his teeth hadn’t been broken, he would’ve ripped flesh clean from bone.
Lucky whipped back and forth, grunting and scratching, his body shaking.
“Stop,” Airk said, firmly grabbing him by the back of his neck. He steeled his voice, not wanting the excruciating pain to slip into it and hurt Lucky more through their bond. “You are okay—”
Letting out a vicious cry, Lucky briefly loosened his grip. He scanned Airik’s face, his pupils trembling and out of sync with one another.
I was forgotten—again.
Before Airik could process the terrified voice in his head that was not his own or even respond that Lucky would never be forgotten, Lucky’s jaws snapped shut, sending blazingly sharp tremors up Airik’s arm.
He thought he heard a noise from the speaker in the ceiling, but all he could think of was that this creature was not the one who had eaten from his hand.
Who had fed all of them the eel he’d fished for them from the river.
Who had curled his tail around Airik’s and Nora’s bodies, shielding them from cold or raining glass.
Four suits, armed with guns and other devices, kicked the door open and burst through.
“Get down on the ground!” a man yelled. He stood at one end of the room as the others rushed in and loaded a device into a gun. The man raised the gun, aiming it at Lucky.
Airik turned his body to cover Luck, even as he tried to tear him apart.
“No—no—do not harm him,” Airik begged. “He is hers—scared.” He squeezed the back of Lucky’s neck, then switched to the common tongue in an effort to reach the lost creature. “Please—you are a good boy. Don’t you remember? That’s what she says about you. Let me go—”
Airik’s wounds stung as Lucky spat out his arm, hacking. Purrs mixed with cries, as if torn between two states of being. He fell out of Airik’s lap, scrambling across the floor.
A pop went off, followed by a piercing ring. For a second, Airik’s vision went black.
When it cleared an instant later, he spotted Lucky at the other end, backed into a corner, a cylinder sticking out from his neck.
With a weak whimper, Lucky sank to the ground, eyes darting and unfocused in all directions.
When his eyes fell on Airik, his face—so expressive, precious, and loved—crumpled.
This creature did not know Airik. The emptiness in its eyes stabbed into his heart like a dart.
Still, he pushed himself off the cot, ignoring the growing weakness in his arm.
“Get down!” One of the men shoved Airik to the floor. A hand pressed his face against the cold tiles. “I said don’t fucking move.”
He was forced to watch as two men threw a net over Lucky, tightening it until the ooshi could no longer move. He let out a pitiful yelp, then shook his head, gnashing his teeth on the net’s thick cords. Then a malicious roar tore through the room as he managed to tear a hole.
One of the men scrambled forward and jammed a second cylinder into Lucky’s side. Lucky twisted, trying to catch the man’s hand. But his jaw fell slack and his eyelids drooped. As he sank to the ground, he found Airik again, a brutal panic in his eyes.
I do not belong here.
Airik’s throat worked to form words, but no sound came out. Lucky’s eyes shone brightly in the room, flashing with a fear that must’ve gripped every creature, great and small, because even Airik understood his dread.
I am surrounded, yet I am alone.
The men dragged Lucky’s limp body away. Airik was lifted off the ground by three men and shoved back onto the cot.
“Someone send a medkit to holding cell zero-one.” The last man backed away from Airik until he reached the door. “Lover Boy is about to bleed out. And someone figure out whether aliens can get rabies.”
The man vanished, and moments later, a supply container was thrust through the hatch.