“It’s not unheard of…or it wasn’t in my tribe. Did yours not—”
“Can we not do this?” Bridget hisses at him. “We have been talking, that is all. I wanted to know about his tribe and your society.” She glances at me. “I don’t see the point in rushing.”
Same. But I can’t tell her the truth about the deal Sunif and I made. Does she want to meet the others on the ship or wait until we have crossed the ocean?
I remind myself that I am making the best of the situation. That I’m helping Sunif instead of letting him be cast out—sending him away won’t help me return home. Though why the colony leaders couldn’t have rescued us and given them some dissenters, I don’t know.
That would’ve made sense.
Unless they thought we’d all been claimed.
Contaminated with alien germs and alien sperm.
My stomach bucks and dinner slides greasily around.
Orik doesn’t seem bothered by Bridget’s rebuke. Perhaps he doesn’t care about having a mate because he has another. And because he has another, she is unpressured. I don’t know her well. I think she is a drone operator and repairs equipment. The kind of person the colony needs. We were all needed…but not for our skills, as there are others who can do our jobs.
The aliens don’t even want us for having babies. They just want someone.
And I wasn’t good enough to be a real mate.
Is it because I am the shortest? The one who spoke the loudest about going home?
My mother would remind me to watch and learn before speaking out, to see which way the wind is blowing, and choose wisely. I don’t care. I don’t want to sit around with people I don’t like and pretend to be their friend.
Yet here I am, pretending to be Sunif’s mate.
I ease back onto the blanket and stare up at the stars. I’m aware of Sunif and Orik talking silently as the energy sweeps over my skin. I give up watching the stars and watch Sunif. His broad back is all I can see. His hair hangs down to beneath his shoulder blades—I’m assuming that his skeleton is something like mine.
Beneath the cloth of his shirt, I see the glow of the markings that run from hands to shoulders and up his neck. How were they made? Does it hurt when he makes electricity? What does it feel like when it runs through him?
How does the rut, as he calls it, feel different from other desire?
I have so many questions, not because I care, but because I am a scientist and one day I will write up my findings and I will be hailed as brave and brilliant.
7
Sunif
Mia is asleep when I lie next to her. I study her face by the illumination of my markings. I want to pull her close and press against her. No, I want more than that and if I start touching her, it won’t be enough. I draw in a slow breath and exhale even slower.
I need to be in control.
I do not need to be consumed.
The stars above mock me. I am a speck. One more banished who will join them when my body gives up. Who am I to resist the rut? It is the gift that ensures the survival of the tribes and should be treasured, not shunned.
My nails bite into my palm.
She is not mine.
But she could be.
She would need to stop hating me, and my brothers, for taking her and her friends. Maybe when Edilk and Sabine catch up, Sabine will talk to her. Or maybe Mia will tell everyone the truth and I will be shamed.
I survived once before.
And that is all I have done for so long. I crave more.
