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)
If they’re not dead. They’ve probably perished long ago. We will never know. That is part of the pain of being a human in this galaxy.
“I don’t know.” Her voice is listless.
“We will figure something out,” I promise her, stifling my own tears. “We are smart, and strong. Believe that in your heart. Do it for me.”
She nods and goes quiet, and we stand like that for a while, with the breeze blowing against us and the setting suns sparkling overhead, deceptively lovely as they shine on this planet full of cruelty. But we cannot linger; I’m due at the barracks for night check-in.
It was challenging to even get this assignment, bringing supplies to the farm workers. It allowed me a short window to sneak her away for our clandestine haircuts.
“If anyone asks about the hair, just say we were infected with wheat lice as we walked through the fields near the woods, and it needed to be cut.”
I’ve used that excuse once already. Nobody cares much about me, but Master is starting to keep stricter tabs on Enya. This may be the last time I can get away with hiding her beauty.
“I wish we could use that cutting rock to kill Master.”
“I do too. But we cannot.” I’ve thought about it incessantly, but even if we managed it, there would be nowhere to go. Slaves who harm Ocretions here are either sentenced to death or brutally punished. “We must find a way to get you out of here.”
She shrugs, so I make my tone insistent.
“Mother Earth willing, we will find a way.” I step away from her and take her hand. “We have three solar cycles. Just stay strong a little longer.”
She allows the grip, but is silent on the way back, her head down. It takes all of my best songs and cheerful talk to get her to maintain some semblance of normalcy—sulky faces and tearful voices, Master always says, are not appropriate for humans, and can warrant painful shock punishments until we better appreciate the “luxuries” we are granted.
So far, I’ve managed to shield Enya from this, but the older she gets, and the more she catches Master’s eye… well, I won't be able to protect her much longer.
All my life, I’ve loved caring for young, and dreamt of having my own. All the young I’ve raised have been taken from me—moved onto other jobs or sold off. I don’t want to lose Enya now, too.
I can’t lose her.
Tarek
“Have you been paralyzed? You’re moving slowly.” I punch Captain Drayk on the shoulder.
My fist connects perfectly with his sinews, even though I can’t see with my eyes.
“Just trying to maintain a pace that you can handle,” he snorts, ignoring my fist.
“Your gear ready?”
I sense the air move as he shifts his head in a nod, and my audio-visual transponder sends the movement signals to my brain to interpret. I step back to his side, knowing exactly where and when he changes position, based on the aural sound wave feedback.
“Status 100 percent complete.” I turn and point to the nav deck on the starship. “Systems have been upgraded and I’m linked in. We’re good to go.”
“Excellent.”
I close my eyes and focus. It takes only a split second before I sense the signals in my mind. I don’t see things the way other beings do, but I sense them—their depth, width, height. I understand the rotational dynamics of approaching asteroids and analyze their trajectory in a heartbeat to avoid them. It’s all because of the tech Dr. Daneth implanted into my brain, the advances that meld silicon and electricity with my own biology to allow me to accomplish nav tasks that even sighted Zandians cannot. Too bad I can’t hold my own in combat, though.
I force that last thought out of my mind. “I know this will be a treacherous journey. I am fully prepared.”
“Good.” He stands taller; I can tell because his signal in my comm expands. I know this is a sign of confidence. I’m proud of being so helpful. As a disabled Zandian, I’m glad I’m able to contribute to society in a critical way.
“This will be a risky op, not just in getting there. Once on-planet, it will not be a simple extraction.” His voice is somber.
We are silent for a second. “This is the elder of the two, correct?” I clear my throat.
“Yes. We located her using the discs we obtained on the last mission. King Zander said we have a short window of opportunity to rescue her during the upcoming slave auction.”
“You’re going to bid on her?” I frown. Even though I cannot see, I automatically make the same expressions as others, I’ve been told. I certainly feel how my face reacts to different inputs.
“No. Zandians cannot attend auctions right now where Ocretions are present—too dangerous. We’ll steal her from the being who purchases her.”