Shalia thought about it a moment. “I saw the Dohrags have ink too.”
“Pigment.”
“Right. Pigment. But if they have the markings?—”
“I know what you are thinking, but no, the Dohrags do not Infala bond. They do not love. I’m not sure if they even can. For them, reproduction and continuation of their species is the only reason for mating, but that is all. No one knows why. It is just a strange fluke of their race. They are still marked, as required under Dotharian law, and their other runes function as intended, but no Dohrag that I’ve heard of has ever been Infala mated. It is largely the reason their kind is consideredother, for lack of a better term.”
Shalia pondered the ramifications of that revelation. “It makes sense now,” she mused.
“What does?”
“Why these guys are the way they are. Why they don’t travel with women. Why they’re such dicks. I bet if they actually cared for someone, they wouldn’t be such assholes.”
“I’m not sure if my rune translated that last bit correctly, but I think the meaning is clear. Perhaps you are right, but no one can say for certain. It has never happened.”
“But theydohave the other tattoos.”
“Yes. And they have Infalas as well, it is just that theirs remain dormant for life. But they bear them just as all citizens must. You see, as much as the Dohrags do not care for the Conglomerate’s ways, they are still under their rule, and as such, they are all marked in accordance with the law. But they brutishly take prisoners. They separate people from their mates, though thenewlybonded are afforded special rights under those same laws, andnone can stand between a couple in that circumstance. Not even the Dohrags.”
“I sense a bigbutcoming.”
“Butotherwise they do not much care about Dotharian laws when they are not under the Conglomerate’s watchful eyes. They know their limits, but they are not shy to push the boundaries when given the opportunity.”
Shalia took in all of this new information like a sponge. A very, very confused sponge. It was all so alien, but then, that was exactly what these people were. It was only natural their customs would be strange. But this ritual with tattoos? And bonding for life because some silly design told you to? Even after alien abduction, escape, capture, and branding,thatwas just too much for her to accept.
Soon enough, however, she would be forced to take a closer look at her convictions. And who could say for sure? Maybe, just maybe, circumstances would change her outlook. Time would tell.
“So, what now? Are the Dohrags going to put more tattoos on me?”
“Oh, certainly not. While your lack of them is a violation of the law, they don’t really care about that. And since you’re under their control, it’s not as though the Dotharians will find out about your situation.”
Shalia breathed a little sigh of relief. “So, I get to stay the way I am. Good.”
Margussa cocked her head and gave her a strange look. “You say that now. But I can’t help but wonder how a human would react to the runes.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, my friend, but it looks like we’re not going to find out.”
4
Days crept by slowly, and while her irritated tattoo was finally healing, the rest of Shalia’s skin was growing more sensitive from this world’s unusual sun. As a result, she had to make sure to cover herself as best she could as they harvested their crops, lest she roast even further.
The commander, whom Shalia had learned was named Commander Valin, came to the surface once more during that time, which was apparently highly unusual. But from what the captives overheard as he berated his underlings, it seemed the fact that there were Raxxians running around in the area, and no one had done anything about it had gotten him quite irate. There was the very real possibility of conflict, which could jeopardize the smooth running of his food production operation, and he expected his men to be ready to handle it.
As Commander Valin stalked back to his shuttle, he slowed his walk ever so slightly, observing the women working the field nearest his craft. He gazed across them, taking note of the speed of their work and the crops they’d gathered so far. He was doing math, it seemed, when his eyes abruptly stopped, locking on Shalia. His angry squint made it quite clear he remembered her specifically from the other day, and that wasnota good thing.
He seemed as though he was about to change course toward her when one of his men hurried across the field with news of a Raxxian conflict not too far away.
That took his attention elsewhere, and Shalia was grateful for it. She’d never been the sort to shy away from a verbal confrontation, but by the look the man had shot her way, she had the very distinct impression that was a conflict she didnotwant to engage in.
His discussion finished, Commander Valin glanced back at her one last time, then turned for his shuttle, his muscular body and firm butt stretching the fabric of his uniform. He might have been an asshole, but hot damn, was that guy built.
“You’re getting even redder,” Margussa said, noting Shalia’s normally caramel-colored skin changing to a quite different hue. “You seem to be more sensitive than most.”
“I don’t get it. I meant what I said earlier. Ineverburn back home. Not ever,” she said, tactfully hiding the real reason for her blushing cheeks. She was burning, though, and was more than a little surprised at the increasing stinging sensation as each day passed.
“And I told you, that may be true where you are from, but every world is different,” Margussa reminded her. “And some suns give off much different rays than the kind you’re used to. Like I said, the proper runes usually help handle that, but without them, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to cover up and hope for the best.”
“That seems to be a running theme. Or maybe a joke of nature I’m not sure which,” the poor human grumbled, shifting her focus back to the crop in front of her.
