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Chapter Five

A r’Tok

Despite the promise of more intimacies like we shared the other night, Star has been far too busy to do anything more than crawl into my bed to catch an hoara’s sleep when she can spare the time. The only touching I allow myself is for my cirr to stroke her head, and that’s because I never knew they moved before I met Star, and I have no idea how to control them.

She’s working so hard it would be selfish to steal her precious sleep time.

Star leaves the Fool to meet Ergonn in an hoara , and Zar’s asked me to join him in his cabin before she goes. I try to allay my fears that I’m in trouble, but in the past, being summoned by someone in authority has never been a positive thing.

“Thanks for coming,” Zar says when he invites me in. “Anya’s not here, it’s just you and me.”

My worry disappears when I see the calm look on his face.

“Shadow tells me you refused when he asked you to be part of Star’s gladiatorial guard. I figure there’s a reason.”

My throat tightens in anxiety. I wonder if they’ll throw me off the ship when they find out my truth.

“I’m not a gladiator.”

He raises a furred eyebrow. “When you were rescued a few months ago, I was told you and Beast were on your way to auction—as gladiators.”

“That’s correct. On my last day in prison, I was given the option of living with family or being sold as a gladiator. Since I have no family and nowhere to go, I was prodded onto a slave ship on its way to auction. I assumed I would be trained. Then your ship rescued me.”

“I see.” Zar nods as he rubs his chin.

I wait for him to ask a hundred other questions, like why I was imprisoned and how a male can have no family. Questions I’m not ready to answer.

“It’s obvious you and Star have a bond. Despite your reluctance, I’d like you to accompany her. I have a leather kilt that will fit you. That’s what the others will be wearing. I’ll equip you with a sword as well as a laser pistol. Are you willing to go with her as part of her protective guard?”

“I’m eager to go. I have to tell you though, I’ve never held a weapon.”

“The sword is for looks and intimidation, although even a novice can lop off a head if properly motivated,” he tosses me a grin. “You’ll need little tutoring for the pistol. You point it at your enemy and pull the trigger.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll inform Shadow, and he’ll ensure no one asks you to do anything you’re not qualified for. Just being with Star and giving her emotional support will be your main job. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He hands me a black leather kilt with a sash that hangs over one shoulder and ends at my waist. A minima later I have a three- fierto sword hanging from my waist and heavy knee-high black boots on my feet.

“There are no innocents on this vessel, Ar’Tok. Not the males, anyway. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. You never need to tell me what you were imprisoned for. I don’t care.

“I’ve never made it a secret that I’ve done things I’m ashamed of. We all have. You are not your history—not to me. You’re who you are today. And the male I’ve watched since you’ve been onboard is honest and trustworthy. That’s what matters.

“I’ve watched you with the female. I don’t give advice often, but I have some for you today. See yourself through her eyes. That will help you be kinder to yourself.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I turn to leave, not knowing what to do with Zar’s advice.

“And one more thing.”

I pivot to look at him.

“I doubt you were meant to be a gladiator, and if you were truly interested, you would have entered the ludus at least once in the two lunars you’ve been on board. However, after we’ve left the Pleasure Planet I’d like you to meet me to spar twice a week. You’ll be surprised what it will do to your self-confidence. And . . . you’ll like the reaction you’ll receive from your female when she watches you.”

The captain gives me a lascivious grin filled with razor-sharp canines. I don’t protest that Star’s not my female. In my mind, she’s been my female since our first comm.

Star

I’ve laid all the groundwork in not only the computer system on Paragon, but interconnected systems throughout the galaxy. The microdot hidden in my navel, when properly installed, will activate the thirty-nine programs I’ve written.

It’s a complicated interdependent structure that should prevent Federation noses from prying into Ergonn’s business.

I can’t wait to complete this meeting with him, so I can have some time alone with Ar’Tok. It’s been a long two days since that incendiary moment we shared with my back pressed against his cabin door.

My hormones have spiked several times a day to the point I had to take care of myself while sitting alone in my room in front of a computer. I forbade myself from asking Ar’Tok to relieve me. I left him alone and wanting once, I’m not selfish enough to do it a second time. Besides, when we finally come together I don’t want it to be rushed. I want it to be memorable.

He stalks into the cramped exit area where I’m standing with my four gladiatorial guards. As my mom would say, ‘be still my heart’. Could any male of any species on any planet look as hot and sexy as Ar’Tok?

Black kilt and sash, three-foot sword swinging at his slim hips, and his cirr pulled into a top-knot on his head. Since when did fierce equal sexy to me? I have no idea, but just gazing at him is making my panties damp.

“You’re coming?” I ask, excited. He’d told me he wouldn’t be on my safety detail. I release a long sigh in relief that he’s going to accompany me.

“My job is to be by your side and help with whatever you need. Ready?”

I’ve never seen his shoulders thrown back like this—in pride. He looks confident, and also a head taller than the other males because of his horns.

The ramp opens and even before my feet touch the ground, I’m hit with many foreign phenomena at once.

“The hover-limo’s this way,” Shadow announces as he leads off to our right.

I grab Ar’Tok’s wrist and halt mid-step, almost flattened by overwhelming emotions.

“What’s wrong,” Ar’Tok asks, his tone rough and deep with concern as he leans to get a better look at my face.

“The sun.” It’s so bright it hurts my eyes. Even with my lids closed it’s too bright.

“It’s okay. Just stand with me a moment,” his calm voice isn’t helping.

“And . . . what’s that smell?” I can’t place it. I’ve never smelled anything like it.

“Are you smelling the fuel of the nearby ship about to take off?”

“I don’t know. It’s . . .” I know all the males are waiting for me. Surely they’re wondering what’s wrong. Perhaps they doubt I’m equipped to handle this operation.

I breathe in and out, slowly, eyes still closed. “It’s odd. Slightly sweet.”

“Would you call it fresh?” he asks.

“Maybe.”

“You’ve never been on a planet before, right? Never seen the sun? Never smelled any air that wasn’t synthesized by an oxygenator?”

“No. None of that.”

“What you’re smelling is fresh air.”

Really? Now that he’s labeled it and I know what it is, it’s wonderful.

“The glare of the sun? You’ll get used to it. And how about the gravity? Do you feel heavier or lighter than you’re used to?”

“Yes, come to think of it, I feel light as a feather.”

“Your first step on a planet.” He reaches down, grabs a handful of dirt and pebbles, and pours them into my palm. “Welcome to Paragon.”

It’s totally ridiculous that I feel like crying, but I can’t control the emotions welling up inside me. I’ve been denied these simple pleasures—air, wind, gravity—because I’m not supposed to be off planet Earth in the first place. I’m an illegal.

I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and pull Ar’Tok toward the others who are waiting at our hover. He must be watching closely as the males climb in because he manages to get that sweet ass and his long sword into the vehicle without looking like he’s never done it before.

The bright sun still hurts my eyes, but that doesn’t stop me from gawking at everything we pass on our way to the meet. The hover makes my tummy swirl, and although I’ve been in the Fool , which travels at the speed of light, it feels like I’ve never moved this fast before.

“Having fun?” Ar’Tok leans to whisper in my ear.

“Maybe.” I don’t think I’ll be having fun until after this meeting with Ergonn.

Our meet is in a grimy warehouse district. It’s a squat building with an open door big enough for our hover to slip through.

My heart is pounding and sweat is beading on my upper lip. I’m about to meet an underworld bigwig who’s expecting an older male, not a young human female. I’ve never been this terrified. Let’s face it, it was less than a week ago that I met a living being other than my mom or dad for the first time.

My gladiator contingent surrounds me as we exit the craft. I have to peer around Shadow, who’s in front of me, to see what we’re facing. Ergonn must be in the middle of his contingent of males—there are eight aliens of various species, shoulder to shoulder, guarding him.

When he finally steps forward, I see why he needs such a heavy defense—he’s maybe three-feet tall. I don’t recall seeing pictures of his race on the Intergalactic Database. He’s brown as a crima nut, and wizened, with wide blue eyes. If he wasn’t scowling and surrounded by a mountain of fighting flesh, I wouldn’t be intimidated at all.

“Which of you is O?” he wastes no time asking as he scrutinizes my gladiators.

I step forward. “Me.”

“What race are you? I’ve been dealing with you for twenty years. You don’t look old enough to be O.” His frown deepens.

“Let’s get down to business. I’m ready to do the download. It will take the better part of a week for my bots to invade nets all over the galaxy, then scrub the All-Link-Detectors the Feds use to scour for illegal activity. Do you have the Hardimon Supercomputer I said you’d need?”

He doesn’t move for a moment. I can’t even detect his chest rising or his eyes examining me.

“If your bots do not perform, if you do not succeed, I will kill you and everyone you hold dear.” He spears every one of the males with a piercing stare. “And I swear by Vorhee’s left nut, if you bring the Feds down upon our heads, I will torture you as slowly as is possible. Do you understand?”

Ar’Tok is to my right. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I can feel him vibrating with anger. He seems half a second away from jumping the six-foot distance between him and Ergonn in an attempt to slice off his head.

“My mom always taught me you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” I say as sweetly as possible, knowing his translator won’t be able to make sense of my comment. “I will install the microdot and then my males and I will start our vacation. Let me reiterate that you can’t expect any results for seven days. I’ll return in three days to check that things are progressing properly.”

I see the Hardimon sitting on a table in a dark corner, looking as if no one was aware it was worth over a million credits. As I walk to it, I toss over my shoulder, “You know where our ship is docked, I’m sure we won’t be able to leave the planet until you check my work in seven days. During the intervening time, you’ll allow my crew free rein on this planet. And by the balls of Freyd, you will not follow us or interfere in any way. Do you understand?”

I don’t look at him, just walk to the corner, lift my shirt to access the microdot in my navel, and get to work. I hope I’m too far away for him to see my trembling hands. Holy shit, I just threatened a cartel boss. Where did I find the balls to do that?

Then I hear a deep laugh erupt from his three-foot-tall self. “That was either the most courageous or most reckless thing I’ve seen in a long time, O. I’ll leave you and your crew alone—no tails, no harassment. We’ll meet in three days to double-check that your bots are doing their job. Have fun on Paragon, but my threat still stands.”

I install the microdot in a matter of minutes, then my posse, who immediately surrounded me as I walked to the computer, escorts me back to the hover.

“We had guns. I don’t see why we didn’t put them to use,” Ar’Tok grumbles as soon as we climb into the hover. “I know it would have put Star at risk and been a foolhardy thing to do. I just . . .” His fists ball at his sides.

He wanted to defend me. It warms my heart.

“Negotiations are half serious, half spectacle,” Shadow explains. “He needed to give us a show of force. I have to say Star, you handled him like a pro. Did you learn that from your father?”

“My dad never met with his customers in person. If they wanted something he couldn’t provide, he just said no to the deal. No one ever threatened him, and our location was secret.”

“Well, the way you put him in his place was off the chain.” He turns around in the front seat to look back at me and smiles. It seems everyone is having fun with Earth slang.

“Don’t get jiggy with the slang,” I chide.

“Take a chill pill,” Dax says from my left.

“Don’t go postal,” Stryker scolds from behind me.

“Do you think everyone’s ready for some R his cirr release me reluctantly as if they too agree this has to be done.

His mouth is pressed into a thin line, his face tight with worry. His gaze runs from mine as if he can’t bear my scrutiny. Stroking his cheek with my palm, I tell him, “I know who you are , Ar’Tok. I don’t think when you tell me what you’ve done it will change my assessment of you.”

“In a minima you’ll know everything. Then you can be the judge. I secured my own room when we checked in. If you want me to go there after I tell you my shame, I’ll understand.”

My stomach clenches in fear. How bad is this going to be? Shame. That’s a harsh word.

“I just got out of prison,” he launches, “a few lunars before we met.” He analyzes my reaction. I give him none.

“How long had you been in prison?” I ask, since it seems he’s waiting for a question. I decide the answer to how long will be easier to tolerate than if I ask why he was there.

“Twenty-five years.”

I pegged him to be in his twenties. Maybe he’s one of those races, like Primians, that live to two hundred.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

My head shakes, almost imperceptibly, like a robot in a vid when something doesn’t compute.

“You’ll have to explain.”

“I was born in prison,” he announces that as if it’s an answer. It just brings up more questions.

“Can you explain? This isn’t making sense.”

“My mother was a prostitute, which is a crime on Simka. It didn’t matter that she was pregnant with me—she was given a twenty-five-year sentence.”

I’m glad he’s talking slowly because my mind is having trouble grasping this. Pictures of a baby Ar’Tok, and Ar’Tok as a lad are flying through my mind so swiftly it’s hard to follow anything other than the internal screen I’m watching. A young male wandering the halls of a women’s prison? It’s so foreign my mind can’t fathom it.

“You had no family who could take you?”

“I was sentenced, too.”

My head whips toward him. I have to examine his face to discover if he’s telling the truth. How could this be?

“What . . . were you sentenced for?” He was in her uterus at the time. What crime could he possibly have committed?

“Simkin scriptures state, ‘the iniquity of the parents is visited upon their children and their children’s children.”

His face is calm and serious; he’s no longer avoiding my gaze.

Heat flares through my body. His words evoke a visceral reaction as my muscles tighten, my eyes widen, and nausea circles the pit of my stomach.

“So you were punished for your mother’s actions?”

“Yes.” He nods. As if he just made a sane remark.

I know this is difficult for him, and I don’t want to make it any harder by showing how distressing this is for me. I school my features and try to react as if what he just told me is rational.

“So you grew up in prison. Tell me what that was like.” Please Ar’Tok, tell me it was a nice facility with playgrounds and schoolyards and friends. Please tell me you had enough to eat and the staff were friendly and loving.

“Mother and I shared a cell. It was ten-by-ten. The outer wall was made of square beige bricks that were crumbling because they were so old. We shared a bunk when I was little, but I slept on the floor since I turned six.”

This explains the pallet on the floor.

Please don’t tell me any more. I can’t bear it. I’m trying so desperately to hold back my tears that my face is quivering, but despite my best efforts, I feel hot liquid spilling down my cheeks and falling to the mattress.

“I knew this would be hard on you,” he says. “I should have told you earlier. I’m too defective, too full of shame to be worthy of your attention much less your acceptance.”

He pulls away, as if he’s going to bound off the bed. Star, if there’s one thing you need to do in this lifetime, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself, pull your shit together, and listen to his story.

“I can’t hide my feelings, Ar’Tok. I also can’t explain them right now. But I will. I’ll tell you every thought and emotion in my head when you’re done talking.”

I dash my tears with my knuckle and order myself to calm down—to make this easier on him.

“I seldom left the cell.”

I fade out for a moment. Seldom. Left. The. Cell. Could I have possibly heard him correctly?

“Mother died when I was nine. After that it was lonely. The guards never spoke to us inmates. So after she died, I seldom spoke with anyone.

“A few lunars after her death, a male came to my cell. He was huge and imposing, wearing fine clothes the likes of which I’d never seen.

“We used to have bugs that flew through the bars in the open window, especially when the weather turned cool. They were big and black and wore a hard shiny coating on their backs. They disgusted me.

“The male looked at me like that. Like I wasn’t just a bug, but I was the most disgusting bug he’d ever seen. His nose scrunched up and his lip curled.”

I want to smooth Ar’Tok’s cirr , or skim my palm down his cheek—to soothe him. But I know he’s too deep in his memory to tolerate it.

“He ordered the guard to open my cell door even though it was forbidden. He was an imposing male who allowed no argument. When the door creaked open, he pulled out his cane and beat me. Everywhere. Everywhere he could reach. Almost every mark I bear came from that day. He didn’t stop when I begged. Or cried. Or even when I was lying on the cold floor in a puddle of blood and piss.

“‘You’re no son of mine,’ he said, his voice dripping with revulsion. ‘Too bad they’d arrest me if I killed you or I’d put you out of both our misery. But I’ll give you this to remind you that you’re worthless and filthy and broken until your end of days.’

“He bent, careful not to kneel his fine clothes in the smelly liquids on the floor, pulled a dagger out of the end of his cane, and cut my throat. I don’t know how he knew how to do it so it wouldn’t kill me, but it didn’t. It left this mark.” He reaches to his throat, as if I needed instruction to know which mark on his roadmap of pain he referred to.

I don’t ask if he got medical treatment; I know the answer.

My mind feels echoey, as if I’m hiding far inside myself. It’s a good place to be right now, so I don’t show him how upset I am. I don’t think he’s capable of understanding that my distress is caused by what was done to him, and not his ‘shame’ as he calls it.

He’s acting as if his story is over, which is good, I don’t think I can bear much more. But I have more questions, and then we can close the book on this forever.

“Can I ask two questions?” my voice is calm and quiet, I give him the courtesy of no eye contact so he can hide.

“Yes.” When I sneak a peek at him, his eyes are drifting back and forth across my face. He’s scanning me, trying to detect my feelings. I try to project nothing but compassion, although I’m probably failing.

“Why aren’t you the same color as other Simkins?”

“I looked it up shortly after I came aboard the Fool’s Errand . We’re born white. My race needs to absorb enough vitamins from the sun prior to age three. If that doesn’t happen, we can’t transition from white to brown like we’re supposed to. Because mother and I were in an inside cell in the depths of the prison until I was five, I never turned. I think they kept her in an inside cell so I’d be deformed as another punishment for her.”

Punish her? Didn’t they realize what they were doing to an innocent boy? To heighten the suffering, his differences made his father want to kill him.

“You had no schooling?”

“No.”

“How’d you learn to read?”

Something softens in his demeanor. Although his body’s still stiff, his cirr reach out to me, more tentatively than in the past, just two thin tendrils. I snuggle against them, silently giving them permission. As soon as I do, they all migrate toward me—seeking and providing comfort in equal measure.

“Shortly after my fath—that male came to see me, a female began to visit. I never knew who she was, although I assumed it was his sister. She came once a lunar until shortly before my release.

She was a frightened birdlike female. She didn’t talk much and kept our visits short. Over the years though, from the little facts she accidentally dropped, I imagined she was afraid of her brother. And after what he did to me, I assume her fear was for good reason.

I doubt he knew about her visits. From things she said, I think he came to get a look at me, to see if I was worth his time and effort to free me. He certainly looked like he had the money to pay off people to release me. Perhaps he considered putting me to work in one of his factories. Obviously, my appearance would have shamed him. Now that I’m free on the Fool , I’m convinced his abandoning me was a stroke of luck.

“Although she was quiet, her one act of kindness changed my life—she brought books. At first, they were for younglings. They taught me basics, but within a few annums , she brought textbooks and novels and even the scriptures.”

The scripture that said his mother’s sins should be visited upon him. Yeah, that one’s my favorite.

“She even brought me expensive moving-picture books that showed me things beyond the walls of my jail. I saw dancing, the movement of the ocean, the flight of birds. I believe those small gifts saved my sanity.”

“Anything else you want me to know?” I ask, hoping I’ve heard every shitty thing there is to tell.

“Yes. I apologize.” His beautiful, ruined face is so sincere, so earnest, it breaks my heart. “I never thought we’d meet. The comm on our bridge works fine. I’m sure you suspected as much. I thought for once in my life I could taste something sweet— talking to you. I convinced myself there was no harm in getting to know you.

“How could I have guessed I’d need to rescue you? Or that you wouldn’t readily see my shame? Or that you’d welcome my kiss? My touch? I let it go too far. I’m sorry.” He turns to his side, again wanting to slip off the bed, but this time his cirr and I conspire against him—they hold my hair; I hold them. He’s not going anywhere.

I wiggle higher on the bed, grasp his precious cheeks in my palms, and silently demand eye contact. When he finally turns his gaze to me, I say, “My mom used to have a saying. ‘Fish don’t know they swim in water’. I thought I understood it before today, but I didn’t. Not really. I understand it now.

“We don’t question things we’re taught since birth. We accept them as fact, as the way things are.

“So it’s not your fault you never questioned what you were spoon-fed. But in Star’s world, things are different. In my world, you’re only responsible for your own actions.”

I want him to really hear me, so I wait maybe a full minute for him to play that over in his head.

“So, in my world, you’re an innocent. Innocent ,” I repeat, my voice so sincere it sounds rough. “An innocent who was punished for nothing. A babe in his mother’s womb who should have been born fresh and clean and spotless to breathe his first breath.

“In my world, there’s no shame on you, Ar’Tok. You’re a blameless male who was punished for a quarter of a century for no reason.”

I’d hoped his face would be hopeful; that it would tell me he absorbed my lecture. But his face is bland. Maybe he’s still digesting my words.

“I’m just one person. I can’t make up for what was taken from you.”

Tears spill freely down my cheeks. Now that I can explain why I’m crying, I don’t have to hold them back anymore.

“But I tell you this,” my voice is so full of honest passion it’s harsh, guttural, “I will do everything I can to make it up to you. Here’s my vow.”

I wait. He’s closed his eyes. I swear to myself that I will wait all night until this beautiful male turns his eyes to me. It takes long minutes, his lashes on his cheeks as he tries to hide from me, his chest heaving as if he just ran a marathon. Even if I could read his thoughts, I’d never understand them because they’ve got to be swirling as fast as an engine on hyperdrive.

Finally, he trusts me with his gaze.

“Here’s my vow. I can’t promise you forever—I don’t know you that well—but I will promise that as long as we’re together I will do whatever’s in my power to help you believe what I just told you: that you’re blameless, that you warrant no shame, and that you deserve happiness and a good life.”

I draw a deep, ragged breath and wait.

“It’s a lot,” he says vaguely, but I know exactly what he means—it’s a lot to absorb. “I feel like the foundations of my world are crumbling. I . . . want to believe what you say.”

I may have never walked on a planet before, but I’ve watched a million hours of vids. I’ve seen time-lapse videos of potted flowers. No matter where the researchers place the plants, they always turn toward the sun. That’s Ar’Tok. It may take him a while, but he can hear the truth in my words and wants to turn toward it.

“Now, I imagine you need a nap,” I smile at him.

“Let me order you food,” he says. “Then I’ll sleep. I feel like I just ran a hundred milles .”

“I bet you do.”