Page 78 of Exiles on Earth

Frustration thrumming through my veins, I head for the private showers. Cameras perch in here too, fortunately all shut off.

Turning on the water, I clench my eyes shut as warm liquid spreads over my wide shoulders. They’re a little sore, but the pain is nothing against the holes in my hearts. The only female I want to watch me is El-len, but she didn’t score me.

A camera blips on, red light bright. It flicks off, and one closer turns on before it too dies. It must be some female looking in the showers for someone to watch, but I didn’t catch the designation name on the screen before it switched off. Whoever it is either hadn’t seen me, or didn’t want to see me.

I soap up, allowing myself a longer shower to think. I should be making full use of the rare luxury of a bunk, a hot wash and food, except they feel hollow.

The camera above my head fires to life, the red light unblinking as its lens focuses down on me. Whoever’s watching is getting a full frontal view.

The training from my pleasure classes fights to take over—when I see the red light of a female’s interest, I have to make the most of it—but I stamp down the instinct. I’m not here to win any mate, I’m here to win El-len.

And then I see the designation. All-Mother Guest 1.

It can’t be, and yet it is.

El-len.

TWENTY-THREE

ELLEN

“This,”Shara says expansively, “is your room.”

She shows me through her top floor penthouse suite, which has three levels in it. The bottom level sports a huge hall for gatherings, echoing with my tiny footsteps. Its walls are shimmering with crystals. Beyond that are more homey areas, and I smile at cozy reading nooks tucked right next to the windows. I smudge the window glass a little trying to see down into a vast compound of tropical trees beneath us.

“That’s our garden,” Shara explains, her dress sweeping on the floor behind her as she comes to sit beside me. “You are welcome to come and go freely. I am afraid I don’t have time to accompany you everywhere, but you can reach me through this device.” She hands me a flat pad as big as a laptop, but completely transparent.

I clutch it awkwardly in two hands. What if I drop it, and it’s like a glass pane and shatters? “Thanks.”

“I also have clothing and coverings. My Vestifexstocks can make you opaque clothes, as you seem to favor them, but for now, clean garments can be found here.” She taps a panel on theside wall and a rack slides out, long gowns like hers in different colors of what looks like chiffon. It’s all very transparent.

I gulp. I only wear a bikini swimming in the lake with the girls in summer, never in what I’d call public. These are far more revealing.

“You seem like you need to relax. Here’s a bath.” Shara gestures, and the floor retreats back under my feet. I squeak and climb onto the nook, and Shara smiles. Underneath the floorboards is a slow moving stream, curls of heat scenting the air with a mixture of roses and jasmine. “Finally, your bed.”

“Let me guess, I need to touch another button?”

Shara chuckles. “No, it’s through here.” A door slides open as Shara approaches what I thought was the wall. I follow her into a small room with no windows and a perfectly serviceable bed of crisp white sheets.

The bed contorts to fit me as I lay down on it, soft in some areas and supportive in others. I could almost fall asleep after the emotional turmoil of the day—Ilia leaving me there, trying to be the bigger woman and supporting him even though it rips my heart to shreds—but I have someone waiting on me. “This is amazing, but I need to check on Floss.”

“The starhound is in the best of care,” Shara reassures me. She comes beside me and taps a few buttons on the pad, displaying a warm yellow-gold room with half-naked Olorians working inside. Floss sleeps deeply on a couch, monitors above her jumping with her vital signs.

“Thanks. I want to see her soon.”

“Tomorrow, yes.”

I suppress a yawn, tired enough to sleep for weeks.

Shara smiles. “You’ve had a long day, arriving on a new planet and meeting so many people.”

“Not to mention the Mating Games,” I mutter.

She inclines her head. “I take it you don’t approve?”

No, I don’t approve of Ilia competing for other women’s affections, and them being so blase about it.

“I’m still thinking about it,” I offer at last.