Bhyr Read online

  ‘May I try some of that?’ His breeder’s words were rife with reluctance.

  Bhyr spun. Her colour had returned to normal. He almost staggered with the force of his relief. ‘A few more moments. This warrior will then provide nourishment.’ He tapped a finger towards the holoscreen. ‘The healing pod made clear what is and is not compatible with its system.’

  Her smooth forehead rumpled, the strips of hair over her eyes bending into wriggled lines. ‘There must be something I can eat.’ She scooted to the edge of the healing pod. Her neck stretched so she could better see the contents of the cold chest. ‘It’s rude to eat in front of someone when they’re hungry.’ She snorted. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t expect basic hospitality, should I?’

  Attention focused on his task, Bhyr ignored her tart tone. He relaxed when he felt his distended gut shrink. He crossed the space to his breeder.

  She eyed him as he clasped her shoulders.

  He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.

  She stared into his eyes. Blinked. ‘What’re you doing?’ She mumbled against his lips. ‘Why are you kissing me?’

  Determined to have his first attempt succeed, Bhyr waited until she opened her mouth to speak. He created the suction seal with his lips, tightening his hold when she tensed to move.

  Bhyr regurgitated the syrup he’d created.

  Her eyes widened and then popped from their sockets. She squealed and shoved at his shoulder. She slapped his face.

  He held on.

  Another slap before she scrunched shut her eyes and swallowed so they could breathe.

  He disengaged their mouths and straightened. He swallowed the liquid she’d failed to consume. ‘Good.’

  Despite positive readouts from the healing pod, he’d been unsure if he’d be able to feed the son bred off a human female. Now he felt confident he would wean his spawn without difficulty.

  ‘Breeder?’ he asked when she did not begin chattering.

  She knelt motionless, hands hovering in the air near her head. Her lips worked as an odd expression contorted her features. She hunched. Her back curved as she dry heaved, whole body bucking.

  Bhyr worried he had not broken down the food small enough. When she slumped, he realised she mimicked his feeding. ‘No, female. No need to share.’ He patted under her chin. ‘I kept some for myself.’ He paused. ‘Though its generosity is an admirable trait, it is pointless.’

  She recoiled from his touch. ‘What did you do?’

  He glowered at the abhorrence he sensed from her.

  Repulsed was she? For what reason? Was it not him who suffered indignity by sullying his sacred self to nourish her frail body?

  The mouthwatering spice of her taste lingered, yes, but it meant nothing. Nothing.

  Her hand cupped her mouth. She stared. ‘Don’t do that to me again. Do you hear me? You might have viruses or infections. Parasites. Don’t you understand that?’ She looked stricken. ‘Don’t do it again. You could make me sick.’

  ‘I am in perfect health. It is, too, now I have finished. The healing pod cleansed its blood of infections, toxins, and atmospheric poisons. It will take several more sessions to cleanse its tissues of all contaminates.’ He frowned. ‘I removed the hormonal irregularities interfering with its breeding cycle, it will be pleased to know.’ The pod had detected foreign hormones suppressing her own.

  Failed experimentation in genetic mutation, perhaps?

  ‘Don’t you ever vomit in my mouth again.’ The shrillness of her voice stabbed needles through his ear drums. ‘I can’t even with this place.’

  Wincing, Bhyr shook off the irritation. His throat clicked. ‘It was not vomitus. That comes from my hind gut and is to expel rotten food. The nectar is nutritious. Liquified food suspended in purified sweet water I ingested for the cause.’ He sighed at her blasphemous arrogance. At her lack of knowledge. Earth was a backwater. ‘There must be creatures on your planet which feed their mates in this manner? It is most efficient.’

  ‘No, there isn’t.’ Her outraged expression faltered. ‘Well, birds feed chicks the same way. And reptiles. Some fish, too.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘Insects, because there’s honey. That comes from bees. I eat that all the time.’ She waved a hand. ‘But all that’s different.’

  He tilted his head. ‘How?’

  ‘Just is.’ She gagged and pawed at her lips. ‘It doesn’t apply to us in this situation.’

  ‘It must eat or it will die.’

  ‘I’ll eat the food myself. Give things to me whole,’ she emphasised, ‘and I’ll find a kitchen and prepare it.’

  ‘Keetchun?’ He mangled the word. His translator explained the definition. “A designated chamber for the preparation, short-term storage and cooking of food used by sentient species.”

  She stared in a way he did not appreciate. ‘Wait. What did you mean by “hormonal irregularities that interfered with its breeding cycle”?’ She sucked in a breath. ‘Did you remove my contraceptive coil? Did you? How dare you?’

  ‘We no longer discuss this. Be grateful. Eat what I feed it or suffer the consequences.’

  He turned his back on her pained expression to close the cold chest. See what came of indulging bad behaviour?

  He found her intriguing, but it changed nothing.

  So what if he liked the way her voice sounded, the way she moved? He must strive to instil discipline, or she would never learn her place.

  ‘It will do as I tell it.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. He turned to reply but found her glaring at the ceiling. She thumped her chest. ‘What did I do to deserve this shit?’

  Realising she addressed his god, no, berated his god, the frustration simmering in his veins erupted into a furious boil.

  7

  Indira

  Gross. I tried not be a complete girl. I was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, but it was so gross. Traces of the First’s, ugh, nectar lingered around my gums, fruity and viscous. Like maple syrup. The early harvest kind. The taste would be enjoyable if he hadn’t puked the concoction into the back of my throat. Presented in a glass bottle with a stack of hotcakes, crispy from the pan, I’d have gobbled it, no question.

  As it stood, I was ready to stick my fingers down my throat to induce some vomitus of my making. ‘Why?’ I glared at the ceiling, thumped my chest. ‘What did I do to deserve this shit?’

  Turns out gods were real. And they punished me.

  It was the only explanation I had left.

  Crossing the space with a bounding stride, a feral snarl exploded from the First’s broad chest. The noise deafened me. His throat vibrated.

  ‘It does not speak.’

  I reeled back and pressed my face, temple to cheek, against the lid of the pod.

  His panting breath gusted over my face.

  I shrank into myself as his aura pressed upon mine as if his will were a hammer.

  Satisfied by my cowering, he pulled back and lowered his voice. ‘It will be silent or suffer the consequences.’

  Before I asked what caused him to flip, he grabbed me by the neck and dragged me from the pod. My bare feet slipped and slid on the glassy tiles as I struggled to get free.

  Fear of what he’d do in his current mood stole my voice. He’d disarmed me. Thinking I could reason with him, I’d lowered my guard.

  Now look at me.

  I locked my knees and stood, digging in my heels.

  He hauled me along as if I were featherlight, stomping down the corridor.

  My legs wobbled then gave out to bash against the wall and floor. My head swam, disorientated by the bright lights. Breathless, my gaze fixed on what was coming around the corner, and I kicked and flailed.

  Grip adjusting to hold my nape, he shoved me forward.

  I smacked into something warm and fleshy.

  I flung a look around. He herded me behind another woman. ‘At last,’ I breathed, thrilled to meet a fellow human. ‘Excuse me?’

  She ignored me.


  ‘Hello? Look over here.’

  She didn’t fight her captor.

  Silent tears streamed from blank eyes as a lanky alien pulled her along the slick floor by his grip on her wrist.

  Like one dragged a corpse.

  My heart kicked against my ribs, and I fought harder.

  ‘Let go of me.’

  We turned the corner.

  My voice joined a dirge of others. Wails of confusion and pain bounced down the corridor. The air grew thick with fear that affected even me.

  He shoved me into a spartan white room behind a dozen others.

  ‘Cleanse,’ he told my back. ‘It has a span.’

  ‘What does a span mean?’

  They tossed another half naked woman in behind me, keeping me from leaving and obscuring my view. She knocked me over with a breathy oof. My teeth clacked on impact.

  The door sealed shut and became a solid wall.

  The woman babbled as she scrambled up. Her knees, elbows, and bony fingers found every sensitive spot on my body. Her long hair flicked into mouth, a wad of greasy frizz that stank of sweat.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I gained my feet then offered her a helping hand.

  ‘I need to go home.’

  Tentative, I patted her arm. ‘I know. It’s, well, it’s not okay, but we’re fine.’

  Staring through me, her shoulders hunched. ‘I need to go home. I need to get clean.’ She latched onto my arm, fingers digging in, broken nails slicing. ‘If I get clean will it let me go home? Will it?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ I pried my arm loose. ‘Why don’t you help me find us a way out?’

  ‘I need to get clean. I need to get clean.’

  I gave up and skirted around her. She stood there twitching, refusing to respond with anything but hysterical ramblings. I did not want to be near someone so unstable.

  I moved to the wall and used my fingertips to look for the lines of the exit. ‘The hell?’ I drummed on it with my fists. ‘Open! Let me out.’

  ‘Indie?’

  I whirled on the spot.

  Cristina wrapped her arms around me.

  Our stiffened nipples rubbing together was awkward. I hugged her back as hard as I could before pushing her to arm’s length.

  ‘Cristina.’ Sagging, I sighed. ‘You are here.’

  She gave me another quick hug. ‘I’ve been hoping you got away, too. This is insane. There must be thousands of women here.’ She kept a shaky grip on my forearms. ‘There are showers. They told us to get clean.’ She motioned to her damp braids, tied back from her face. ‘Some of us listened.’ She pointed over her shoulder. Women clumped together in the far corner. ‘Some haven’t.’ She lowered her voice. ‘They’re saying the aliens want us clean so they can impregnate us.’ Her face did something complicated. ‘Do you think that’s true?’

  Spread its legs, a voice whispered in my memory.

  Flashes of what came after had my mouth drying.

  ‘Let me wash up.’ My eyes skated past hers. ‘I only woke up a while ago and haven’t processed yet.’ I sucked in a bracing breath. ‘Give me time. We will get out of this.’

  The lines between her brows relaxed. She looked at me with wide-eyed trust.

  I patted the white-knuckled fists cutting the blood supply to my hands.

  She led me to where a pair of women washed with frantic splashes. They darted under of the fall of water then scurried out, wringing their hair as far from their semi-naked bodies as possible.

  I thought it odd until a stray droplet from a passing woman hit my skin.

  I flinched. ‘It’s freezing.’

  Cristina grimaced. ‘There are no towels. Air dry, girlfriend.’ She chafed her arms.

  Puffing my cheeks, I stuck an arm under the heavy spray.

  My body shuddered.

  Eyes closed, I stepped under the water. I forced myself to ignore the burning cold liquid sliding over my skin and into every orifice. My movements were jerky, but I rubbed myself down. Leaving the water was as bad as being under it.

  While my instincts told me to huddle in a corner, I made myself weave through the distressed women.

  They wandered the large space like lost spirits.

  One woman was so red and out of breath, I reached for her in concern. She skidded in the opposite direction. Screechy sounds of distress broke from her chest. It caused the “together” women to give her a wide birth, shaking their heads at her psychological break.

  Cristina kept close to me, glaring at everybody who drew too close.

  ‘What’s with the resting bitch face?’ I asked.

  ‘They’re acting as if screaming at each other will achieve something.’ She pointed to a short, plump woman clawing at the slick walls with bloody fingernails. ‘She tried to scratch my eyes out when I first got here,’ Cristina said, scandalised. ‘I was trying to help. Some of these bitches are already crazy.’

  ‘Try having some compassion.’ My gaze roamed the walls and ceiling. There was a narrow grate above us. We could make a human pyramid. Then what? Crawl through ducts that might shoot us into outer space? I glanced at Cristina when she remained silent in her judgement. ‘They’re frightened.’

  ‘I’m not?’ She sniffed. ‘I don’t take my issues out on other people. I expect the same consideration.’ She waved a manicured fingernail. ‘Hashtag. I Am Not Wrong. Christ, Indie. We have to get away from here because I don’t want to know what comes next.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Hushing her ranting, I pulled her to the side. My eyes closed against her hopeful expression. ‘Listen for a second.’ I clasped her shoulders. ‘Things will get….’

  She licked her lips. ‘Bad?’

  I gazed at her.

  ‘That time in Rotterdam bad? Or when we went to Moscow bad?’

  I gazed harder.

  Her throat bobbed. ‘Yup, okay. Right.’

  ‘If we refuse to… they’re trying not to damage the merchandise. They’ll punish us, but if we stay strong, we’ll figure out a way to get free before they impregnate us.’

  ‘Okay, sure. Cool.’

  I paused at the tenor in her voice that wasn’t fear and looked at her.

  Looked real close.

  ‘Cristina?’

  Set in a head two inches taller than my five-eight, her eyes travelled over my head. ‘Hmm?’

  ‘You want to tell me something?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘I’ve known you my whole life. Even when you agree with me, you share some pithy comment or random observation.’ I cocked my head. ‘So why are you monosyllabic and avoiding my gaze?’

  She turned to peer into my eyes. ‘Am not.’

  ‘Now you’re staring like a lunatic and not blinking.’ I scrunched my nose. ‘Come on. What’s going on?’

  She huffed. ‘I may have visited the carnival and ridden its rides.’ She winced. ‘Twice.’

  My eyes popped. ‘Cristina.’

  She shrugged, uncomfortable. ‘When I woke up a blue Dwayne Johnson had my head in his lap. He gave me food and water. He draped a blanket over me, so I wouldn’t get cold. Kaboom.’

  ‘Kaboom?’ I gawped. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘He’s a man. I’m a woman. We were naked. There was a kaboom. Sex happened.’ She bit her lip, eyes huge. ‘A lot of sex happened. Like loads.’

  I blinked. ‘I see.’

  My own experience had been less entertaining.

  ‘He was sweet. He said nothing about alien babies. I swear. It doesn’t matter anyway. I have the coil, remember?’

  I had to look away from her strained grin.

  Aides were trained to find creative solutions to difficult tasks. I was one of the best. Dedicated. Prepared to do what needed doing, even if it ran against societal norms.

  Cristina was my best friend, but her strengths lay in her allure and unfailing loyalty. She was the bleeding heart, and I was the brainiac.

  It was my part to figure out how to regain our freedom, and I was failing.<
br />
  I knew firsthand the pressure and stress of waking naked and chained in that box. How hard it had been to tell the First “no” when he told me to spread my legs.

  Had Cristina bedded her captor because she wanted to, or because she felt it was the only way to gain control?

  My head and heart hurt.

  ‘The cell he kept me in had no exit except for a sliding door that disappears on his command,’ I said at last. ‘What about yours?’

  Confusion clouded Cristina’s eyes, carved furrows in her forehead. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘No. If it’s what you decided, I won’t judge.’ I swallowed. ‘But, Cristina, my alien told me he removed my contraception.’

  She blurted a laugh even as her smile faded. ‘No.’ She started to shake. ‘God, Indie.’ Realisation widened her eyes. ‘No. That can’t be right.’

  I caught her hands. ‘We won’t worry until there’s something to worry about.’

  ‘Stupid,’ she whispered. Her eyes were wet. ‘So goddamned stupid. Indie, what is wrong in my brain that I act before I think?’

  ‘Don’t say that. If you’re pregnant, we’ll handle it. Right?’ When she nodded, I corralled her back to my earlier question. ‘Does your cell have a way out?’ My voice grew thin and tight with suppressed hope.

  Distracted by what I’d revealed, she shrugged.

  ‘Cristina.’

  ‘No.’ Stray braids that had fallen from her high bun twisted around the rounds of her shoulders as she shook her head. ‘I can’t open the door.’

  ‘Shit.’ I looked at the ceiling, thought it over. ‘I see no way to get us out of here. Even if we get free, we have no way home.’ When her expression fell, I backtracked. ‘I need to think about it for a few days.’

  ‘How are we going to get out of here if we don’t plan something right now? What if we don’t meet for weeks? Months, even.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Or ever again.’

  My mouth tasted rotten.

  ‘I’m hoping these mass bathing sessions happen with regularity.’

  ‘Hoping?’ She stared. ‘We aren’t getting away from them, are we? We can’t fight them. These guys are moving mountains.’ Gaze leaving mine, Cristina studied her toes. ‘This is it, isn’t it? We’re stuck here.’