Page 33

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

AIDY

I wake up slowly, a warm body curled around mine. It feels deliciously warm and comfortable to be in Corvak's arms, and I roll over and nuzzle against his chest, content.

Then, my stomach turns at the sudden movement, reminding me that whatever sort of sickness I've picked up is still lingering.

I fight back nausea, mentally picturing all the things that could be wrong with me.

Giardia, trichinosis, worms of some kind…

horrifying. I already know parasites exist on this planet, so it's just a question of what's infected me and how I get rid of it.

"You're awake?" Corvak asks in a low voice, gently stroking my hair back from my face. "Your breathing changed."

It absolutely did. I've found through practice that tilting my head back and taking deep gulps of cold air sometimes helps my stomach calm. "I'll be fine in a moment. Is it dawn yet?"

"It is midday." He continues to comb my hair with his fingers. "You needed to rest."

But I'm terrified now—the snow-people get angry when there's no food. It's why I cook for them even when I don't want to—I'm afraid of what they'll do next. "Corvak—the army?—"

"I am cooking what little they brought. Don't worry. It's handled."

"You shouldn't have let me sleep in."

"It's handled," he says again, voice patient. "And I cooked you a root in the coals. When you feel well enough, I want you to sit up and eat it, and then we will talk."

The last thing I want to do right now is eat. I want to ignore my stomach entirely. "You eat. I'm not hungry."

"If you don't eat one I will cook three and insist you eat all of them."

Grr. I sit up slowly, testing my queasiness.

When everything stays down, I put my hand out to him.

"Fine. I'll choke it down." His eyes crinkle with amusement at my dramatics and he hands me the root.

I take the world's tiniest bite and chew slowly in the hopes that maybe my gut won't realize I'm eating. "Did you sleep well?"

"I have not slept at all," he says. "I came in here to check on you. The rest of the time I have been speaking with Valmir."

"You talked all night ?" I take a bigger bite, because I have things to ask him, too, and the longer I take to eat, the longer it takes to get answers.

"He had much to say."

It's a curiously vague statement, and one that concerns me. "Are you…okay?"

"It is a lot of information to digest," Corvak says, reaching for me. His fingers brush the hand in my lap. "If what Valmir has told me is true, we have a problem. Actually…we have many problems."

My stomach churns and the mouthful of root I have tastes like ash. I force myself to swallow, terrified. "Like…what?" He hesitates, and I realize he doesn't want to tell me, which freaks me out even more. "Corvak…"

"There is no game," he says, choosing his words carefully. "I have been wrong all this time."

I stare at his outline in surprise. There's just enough light in our cave that I can make out his features and the defeated slump of his shoulders. "What do you mean, there's no game?"

He holds my hand tight, as if what he's about to say pains him.

"I…all the memories I have, all the information I have been programmed with…

it's not matching up. It is as you said—if this is a competition, where are the rest of our competitors?

Where are the weapons? Where are the vid recorders?

Why are we given so much land to maneuver?

Why are they letting us interact with the local people?

I don't have this in my memories. The game is supposed to be more contained, more structured.

But when we woke up, I was certain that this was a battle scenario.

That we were to fight to survive, or that we were to hunt for some sort of object, or?—"

I stop him before he can go on because he looks tormented. "Corvak, I'm not blaming you. God knows I have no idea what's been going on. But if it's not a game, what is it? What's going on?"

"There is no game. There was never a game. We were abandoned here. No one is monitoring us. No one is coming to retrieve us." His voice is heavy with regret. "I was wrong about all of it and I misled you."

My gut twists, but I don't know if it's sickness or anxiety over what he's saying.

"I'm confused. You say there's no game, but that doesn't explain how I got here.

I'm from Earth. There's nothing in that explanation that says how I managed to land halfway across a galaxy in the pod next to you.

What's the point of that? And why would someone kidnap me from Earth just to dump me on a snowy planet with no people?

" I pause. "There are no people, right?"

"There is a village at the beach. That is where Valmir says he is from. And there is another village in the mountains to the south, but they are all mesakkah."

I still don't understand. I feel as if I'm missing a big piece of the puzzle. "So the thing with the parasite…was that a lie too? Is that why I'm dying?"

"It was not a lie—" He sounds anguished.

Squeezing his hand, I correct myself. "I'm not accusing you.

Just…we're going off assumptions. I was wondering if they were lying to us, if they were pretending like they needed this parasite to live and it was really a set-up.

That they were tricking us and hoping it would kill us…

" But even that doesn't make sense, because if what Corvak is saying is true, they're not the enemy.

I'm starting to question everything that's happened since I woke up.

"Is the parasite why I'm sick?" I whisper, horrified.

He hesitates. "In a sense."

Oh god. Visions of worms crawling through my guts fill my mind. I think of the chest-burster from the movie Alien . Is that what's inside me making all the noise? "Fuck. It's eating me from the inside, isn't it?"

Corvak's hesitation makes me want to weep. "I…don't think so?"

I put a hand to my stomach, imagining it full of…things. I want to throw up a dozen times over.

"I am not an expert on how young are produced, though."

My brain has a record scratch moment. I jerk my gaze to him. "What?"

"What?" he replies.

"What young?" I repeat. "Young…parasites?"

"No. Human young."

I pull my hand from his and press it to my forehead. My palm is sweaty and damp. I feel dizzy. All I know is that I'm dying. "I…I'm confused. Start over."

"The parasite is necessary," Corvak states again. "There are bad things in the air and the parasite makes it possible for your body to adapt. But it also serves another purpose. When it hums in your chest, it will only hum to another person. It wants you to mate with that person."

Aha. So my initial suspicions were correct. "So it's a horny parasite? And what, like, after we mate with someone else then we die? That's why it goes quiet?"

"No, it goes quiet because it has accomplished its mission. It wants us to mate so we create offspring."

Wait.

Waaait wait wait.

I touch the half-eaten root in my lap, my mind racing.

I'm trying to recall all the times that I've been sick recently.

How just certain smells make me nauseous, and how it comes and goes.

Does the nausea always come on in the mornings?

It seems to be most prevalent then…but that could just be coincidence, right?

It's far too early in a pregnancy for morning sickness. Besides, Corvak can't make me pregnant. We're not even the same species.

But…he doesn't know anything about babies and how they're made. He just said so.

I need answers. Real answers. And it's clear that whatever we think we know isn't right.

Staggering to my feet, I toss the cooked root down on the blankets and head for the front cave.

There, the cat man is sprawled in the same spot he was last night, but this time he's got his foot propped on a stack of pelts and it's heavily wrapped in a concoction of bones and leather straps.

He's whittling at a bone and looks up when I surge into the room.

"You two know I can hear everything you're saying, right? "

"You can?" I repeat, feeling stupid.

His ears—big, triangular, feline ears—flick.

"Yeah. And yes, you're pregnant. The khui—that's the parasite in your chest—isn't killing you.

It's keeping you alive. And in return, it picks who it wants you to mate and have offspring with.

That's why it was singing so loud for a while.

The fact that it's all quiet now tells me that it's accomplished its mission. "

I feel faint. So whatever is growing in my stomach isn't some sort of worm-like alien monster…it's a baby.

Oh my god. This is the worst place in the universe to have a baby. I point back at Corvak, frantic. "You're wrong. I can't have his baby. He's not human?—"

"The parasite doesn't care. There are so many cross-breeds in the village, you wouldn't believe it until you saw it for yourself. Doesn't matter what your biology says—the khui reworks it so it gets what it wants."

I press my hands to my temples, my thoughts whirling. "How do you know all this? You—you were dropped here the same time as us, right?"

"I was, but others were dropped here long before." He gives a lazy shrug, unaffected by my panic. "And it's a keffing baby factory over on the beach. I swear by all the stars in the universe that it's the worst place to be if you hate kids."

"Which you do…?" I sink to my knees, feeling weak.

He only gives me a vague, wry smile. "Let's just say I'm rethinking my position. You got any other burning questions you need answered?"

That's enough for now. I cover my face with my hands, trying to think.

"I didn't know, Aidy," Corvak says. He comes up behind me and sinks to the floor at my side, wrapping his arms around me. It's like he's trying to protect me from the news. He obviously feels responsible, even though I'm equally to blame. I knew that sex causes babies, and I still jumped him.

But none of that matters now. What's done is done, and now I'm pregnant.

I try to fight the idea, to think of when the last time I had my period was, but I haven't had it since we landed here, and I'm definitely overdue.

I thought I'd missed it due to stress, but I've been ignoring all the signs, haven't I?

Sick in the morning—check.

Missed period—check.

I bet if I squeezed my boobs right now they'd be tender. Ugh. I'm an idiot with her head in the sand.

"There's really no game? No big competition?" I ask Valmir.

He shakes his head. "We were dumped here. Discards and unwanted scraps, if you will."

"I'm not a space scrap," I protest. "I'm from Arizona! This isn't possible?—"

"There are entire species that make a good living kidnapping humans and enslaving them," Valmir says. "You might have been from Earth at some point. Now…" He gestures with one hand. "You get to call this place home."

Fucking great. I ignore the swell of panic in my chest and eye my surroundings.

There's a warm pool, yes. Big cave. Great.

But just outside the entrance are dozens of hovering snow-people, waiting to be fed or they'll pitch a fit.

The valley is picked over. It's cold and bleak and isolated and something has to change.

I am not having a fucking baby here.

I pull free from Corvak's arms and turn to face him. "New plan. We're not staying here."

"Where do you want to go?" he asks.

I gesture over my shoulder at Valmir. "To this beach. I want to be with others if I'm having a baby. There's no way I'm doing this alone."

"You're not alone. I'm here."

I don't answer that, because he knows nothing about babies. Hell, I know nothing about babies. I shake my head. "It's not enough."

The look of hurt on his face is quickly gone, but I know I've wounded him with my answer. "We will do what you want."