Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
She shakes her head. “I’m damaged goods.” She touches her leg, through the breeches. And I’m sterilized.” She touches her belly. “I can’t have my own children.” She sticks up her chin. “But I’ve got Enya. I raised her, and she made living with this pain bearable for me.”
She looks me straight on and adds, “She’s my life. Without Enya…” she whispers. “Without Enya, I have no reason to live.”
A cold chill travels up my spine.
“Tarek, you’re needed at the bridge,” my comm crackles, saving me from the difficulty of formulating a reply.
I respond automatically. “Twenty seconds.” I turn to Zina, hoping that my stance conveys empathy, apology, whatever she needs to see.
Surely Zina will handle the future... just fine. Right? She’s a tough human. A fighter.
I raise my hand, a ridiculously sterile gesture, given the nature of what we just did. What I did to her. But I can’t give her more.
“Good luck,” I tell her, and then I turn my back and stride out of the bay.
Chapter 5
Zina
“Where’s Enya?” I sit up, my heart pounding, my head throbbing with pain.
I push off the unfamiliar cover—soft and airy, and struggle to my feet, eyes squinting as they adjust to the soft bright light. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the human barracks. Your new dormitory. Hi. I’m Abbi.” A human woman swims into focus as I blink and rub the stickiness from my eyes. “I’m here to help you acclimate and adjust. Make sure you’re okay.”
I don’t care about her. I turn my head abruptly, checking all around me—my child is gone. My stomach flutters with terror and my head turns to lead. “Please, Enya needs me.”
I sit back down as the room starts to tilt, just a little, but enough to throw me off balance.
“She’s fine. Take this,” Abbi encourages, darting forward with a fluid tube. “Give yourself a moment. You’ve been sleeping for over twenty-seven hours.”
“What? Why?” I put my hand to my head and rub, wishing the stabbing pain would subside. “My head is splitting apart.”
“Probably the adjustment to our atmosphere. It’s pretty much the same as you’re used to, but still, your body needs to adapt. Plus, you’re still healing.”
She touches my med pack, which flashes three greens and one yellow light. “See?”
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
She turns away and starts to bustle around, arranging some silver foil packets. “Are you hungry? I’ve been instructed to…”
“No, just take me to Enya. She’s my family. I need to be with her.”
“Um… that won’t be possible, right now.” She puts the packets down. “I’m so sorry.”
I stand up and touch her shoulder. “You said she was doing fine.” I twist my hands together.
“Oh, she is! Zina, this is great news. You’re going to be so happy. Enya is meeting her mother.” A beat. “Her birth mother.”
Now the rooms really spins. My voice is weak. “Her birth mother? Here? On Zandia?” I sit down abruptly.
“Yes. Bayla’s been waiting for this moment for many solar cycles. No one ever thought it would happen.”
This was the thing they weren’t telling me on the ship. The reason they were searching for her specifically.
It should be great news. It is great news. But for some reason, my body reacts with panic. I squeeze my hands together and my body is hot and cold at once.
“I can’t believe this. It’s real?”
“Yes. Her mother is mated with Dr. Daneth, the king’s royal physician, and she’s hoped for a reunion with her young for so long. Now that it’s happening, it’s a miracle!”
“And they don’t want me there while she meets… her m-mother?” The word is hard to get out past the lump in my throat. Emotions swirl through me and I can’t focus. “Did Enya… not want me there?”
Abbi looks away. “Um, it’s just that you were in med and then you needed your sleep and rest, and the delegation decided, well, that it might be easier for her to do the initial transition without you. Just so she could meet her mother as soon as possible, you know?”
“But I’ve—we’ve—never been apart. She’s like my own young, or a little sister.” I stand up and gesture. “Abbi, please. She might be scared, or in shock, or…” My heart pounds. “She needs me.”
Abbi turns back and hesitates, maybe the sight of my expression is alarming her. “I’m so sorry, but I have instructions to, ah, not bring you to her.” She adds, “Not yet. Until we get approval.”
I sit down, breathing heavily, head spinning. “No.”
She touches my arm. “I’m told she’s doing fine. This is just temporary, until she gets over the first hurdle. You’ll see her again. And I know they’re all grateful to you for taking such good care of her. It’s obvious that she probably wouldn’t be alive, even, if not for you.” Abbi squeezes my fingers. “You’re like a hero.”