My eyes widen slightly, but I manage to contain my reaction and not pull away. “You’re my king.”
“And?”
“I didn’t want to stir up trouble.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to be jealous of the two of you, get mad and throw you out of the Market?” he asks.
“Something like that.”
He chuckles. “Have some faith in me, I’m not that petty.” His white locs tickle my chest as he looks down to grab a clean gauze. “And I just feel left out.”
Left out? Does he… actively want to share Perri with me?
I hiss as he pulls on the knot, finishing the stitches, and rubs alcohol over the wound. He leans closer to cut the thread—with his teeth, of all things—and his groin grinds on mine. My cock gives a traitorous twitch under the towel.
And why does his hair smell so good? He’s always so put together, his hairstyle sharp. I wonder how much time he spends maintaining his locs every day. I’ve seen him rub oil in his hair sometimes before bed, so that’smust be why.
I clear my throat and lean back a little. “Thank you.”
Alastair smiles knowingly. “The pleasure was all mine, Stellan.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
I hold on to my towel for dear life as I rummage through my bag for clean clothes. Luckily, Alastair leaves the camper to give me some space to change.
What is happening?I wonder again as I put on a shirt with buttons to avoid taxing my shoulder. I’m so used to having Perri as a buffer between me and his lovers, I have no idea how to act around the King. I don’t know how to deal with people without him,period. Jess joked once that I was lucky to have found Perri at a young age, because without him I would have spent my life alone, roaming the wastelands like a grumpy, lost soul.
“Let’s not make a fire tonight,” Alastair says as I come out of the camper. I eye the ocean of yellow grass and nod. There’s no need to help the wastelands spread faster than they already are. “I’ll take the first watch. You need to rest. You lost a lot of blood.”
I want to argue that it was nothing for a big man like me, but I know he won’t takenofor answer. Maybe he’s right, and Ineed to relax. I should enjoy having someone else in charge for a change. And soon, I’ll be reunited with Perri, and things will go back to normal.
We eat quietly as the sun sets over the golden field, and when the dark is upon us, I climb into the camper and fall asleep in Alastair’s sheets while trying not to imagine his big body against mine.
13
Reunion.
“Today we completed the core structure of theBeetle—Jonathan gave it another name, but I have entirely forgotten what. Griffin took one look at the plans two years ago, said it looked like a giant insect, and the idea took root. Now all we can see when we look at it on paper is a beetle on six legs, so I guess that’s what it’ll be—orshewill be. Natasha said that if most ships are considered females, then our new home on legs should be, too. We started tinkering with the lines of codes for the AI last week. She’ll be our mother ship, so to speak. I like that. I hope that she’ll look over Griffin when we’re long gone. He just turned eleven, but he’s so strong already, I dare say he shall outlive us all. The least we can do is not only build him a home, but a friend too.”
Journal entry from Aurora Melbourne, a scientist who worked for the Revival project.
PERRI
The branches balance with the motion of theBeetle, the heavy fruits secured with a net, as I lie on the floor below the orange tree in the greenhouse. I’ve been spending as much time as I can up there since Helios showed it to me, reveling in the bounties of nature protected behind glass. When I offered to help Griffin with the subfunction of his greenhouse, I didn’t expect such a marvel. The hydroponic gardens at the Traveling Market are messy in comparison, constructed from rusty panels, old pipes, and scratched plexiglass. Griffin’s greenhouse is a large room at the top of theBeetle, protected by the solar panel wings during travel and sandstorms.
Beet gave me a tour of the garden yesterday, proud as a mother with her children. There are orange trees, apples, strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes, peppers, leeks, pumpkins, zucchinis, eggplants, carrots, and so many other things I’ve never see before. I was allowed to touch and smell and taste them all if I wanted. I almost cried tears of joy. The trees have all been secured with ropes and nets. Beet manages the temperature, humidity and sunlight level—when her subfunction works smoothly, that is—and Griffin and Helios handle the manual labor.
Helios pulled a round, purple root from the dirt yesterday and said with a grin, “Look. It’s a beet!”
“Really? Is it good?” I asked.
“Surprisingly, yes. It’s very sweet. Some communities make sugar with it. Just like our lovely Beet: tough-looking on the outside, incredibly sweet and colorful on the inside.”
“How could they name me after such an ugly vegetable?” said the AI through the speakers in the greenhouse.“Preposterous!”
Helios laughed. “I’m pretty sure they called you Beet, short forBeetle, but hey, if you want to get pissy for nothing.”
“I’m a state-of-the-art artificial intelligence, Mister, I do not get pissy.”
