“And probably have enough left over to run it for a few years,” he agreed. “Although why you would want to buy an outpost is a mystery."
She pressed the data pad to her chest, ignoring his comment. “If I ran, you wouldn’t ever be able to find me.”
Honestly, he hadn’t thought of that. “After everything you’ve seen, do you still think we intend to use you for nefarious purposes?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. But I’m still not sold on settling down on Hissa. This is the first time I’ve been free, what if I want to explore?”
He could understand that, even if he didn’t agree with it. “Give my homeworld a chance first. You might find you like it.”
“Do I have a choice?”
He didn’t want to answer that so he pointed to the Hissa-style top she’d partially pulled out before they’d gotten distracted. “Do you like that one?”
She shoved the data pad into her bag, as if he might take it back, then grabbed the shirt. “It’s pretty and made out of soliman silk, what’s not to like?”
“Do you want it?” he asked.
“I do, but it’s too delicate,” she said. “I’m not good at being still. I’d probably snag it on something and rip it before the day was out.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Miran assured her, pulling out the matching pants. “You should wear it. Pick out a dozen outfits. If they get ruined, we can come back here for more.”
She looked around, taking in the large quantity of items. “These are all so bright and colorful, but all I’ve seen you guys wearing is those drab matching blue outfits. Are they a uniform? Do you dress brighter when you’re not working?”
Miran shook his head. “No, it’s not the male's purpose to be bright and colorful. Our women are supposed to shine. Even back when we weren’t a wealthy species, we focused on dressing our daughters, sisters, and wives in the nicest, most beautiful things we could afford. As a young child, I remember my father and my mother’s brother fighting over who got to buy her a coat she wanted.”
He was suddenly swamped by a sense of loss. He’d been young when the Great Death ravaged his species.
Even though his father’s body survived the disease, his mind hadn’t. Unable to live without the women at the center of their lives, many men had decided to let the dense and dangerous jungle of Hissa end their lives. His father had been one of them.
Miran ended up being taken in by his uncle who did his best but was also in deep mourning.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He looked down to find Nova standing close and stroking his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling stupid. “Sometimes the pain feels like it happened yesterday instead of over ten years ago.”
Moving her bag, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He automatically did the same, taking comfort in her closeness. He hadn’t been held since he was a child. He’d never get enough of Nova’s soft touch and warm embrace.
“I understand,” she whispered. “I have very clear memories of being decanted. I was the biological age of six. I remember being cold and scared. The techs and doctors weren’t cruel, but they weren’t kind either. At first, we were all kept in the same room, laying in rows of cots as they worked on getting our brains and bodies to work together. I wanted to cry, but I was scared to show how upset I was all the time. No one talked to us as if we were human. They acted like we were machines to be calibrated, not children to be cared for.”
She took in a long, shaky breath before continuing. “We didn’t even have names yet, we were numbers. I was 07267 and the girl next me was 07268. We looked for comfort wherever we could find it. When no one was looking, we’d hold hands. Then she didn’t pass one of the developmental tests and they took her away. I never saw her again. There isn’t a single day of my life that I don’t think about 07268.”
Miran sucked in a shocked breath. He’d heard that the facilities growing humans to sell were callous, but he never expected such a horrific level of cruelty.
He tightened his hold on her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“I gave her a name,” Nova said. “When Riff named me Nova, I decided she should have a name too.”
“What name did you choose?”
“Star,” Nova said, then chuckled. “I wanted to give her a powerful name, and there isn’t anything more powerful in the universe than a star. Some days, I imagined that her soul went to the sun in the human solar system and burned them all for what they did to us.”
“I don’t know if this helps, but all the people that were working in the location where you were grown died when the place exploded,” he said. “Probably not long after you left.”
She pulled back enough to give him a fierce grin. “Yes, that makes me feel better.”
“Good,” he grunted, happy to see her satisfaction.
