Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“You’re sure he’ll come back? He’s not just leaving us?”
“I’m sure.” I smile at the thought of any guy on this planet actually abandoning a woman in need. I don’t think it’s in their DNA. “And he’s my mate. He’ll for sure come back, and when he comes back, we’ll get some khuis in all of you and you’ll feel so much better.”
“How did you get together with him?” one of the women asks, looking over at me. Her name is covered up because she’s huddled in one of the blankets, and I’m suddenly realizing my brilliant plan isn’t quite so brilliant after all. Oh well. “Did you show up like we did and he took care of you?”
“Yes and no?” I keep a bright smile on my face and go to check on the tea pouch. It’s almost empty, which means we need more water. I take my waterskin and dump the rest of its contents into the pouch, making a mental note to ask I’rec for more water when he returns. We’re going through all of our supplies exceedingly quickly with so many mouths to feed. I’ve already refilled my skin at least four times this morning and it gets drank as quickly as the snow I put inside it melts. “I showed up here in a pod like you guys, but I’rec didn’t move to our village until a few weeks later. We just became mates very recently.”
“It’s clear he loves you,” says another—a woman named Sabrina. She’s sharing a blanket with Jason, the lone human man, and she wears a dreamy look on her face. “The way your blue guy looks at you is how my father used to look at my mother.”
“Is it?” My smile grows broader. I love that they’re noticing that about him. I love that he’s so obviously mine, even in their eyes. Suck it, Tia. Then of course, I feel bad for even thinking that. It’s not her fault that I got him before she did, or that the moment we resonated he’s never given her a second thought. Maybe we were meant to be after all. And really, I’m a better fit for him anyhow. He needs me to laugh with him—and sometimes laugh in his face when he’s taking himself too seriously. “He’s a good guy. Actually, he’s the best guy.”
“Aw,” Sabrina says, and sighs dreamily. “I don’t know if I’m very happy that we’re stuck here instead of back home, but I guess if we can get sweet alien boyfriends it won’t be so bad.”
“What are you talking about, back home?” says another. “We don’t have a home. We’re clones, remember?”
Sabrina’s expression dims. “Oh. Right.”
“If we’re clones, why do I have memories?” Isadora retorts. “Maybe they’re wrong. Maybe—”
“You’ve been programmed,” one of the strange-looking males says. He steps forward, and I see it’s one of the males that has catlike features—and the same blue hide and horns as the mesakkah. “I imagine we all have.”
“Programmed? What do you mean?” Yasmin asks.
He taps his head. “I have memories up here. Some of them are from a distant past, of a fight that I won but it cost me my hand.” He holds up his arm and wiggles claw-tipped fingers. “This hand. Since it’s here, that’s either not my memory or it’s been planted in my head. I also have a lot of knowledge of gladiator bouts. Of moves to use against specific enemies. Of rules and regulations. But my hands are soft, and my feet are, too. My skin is unmarred.” He holds his hands out and turns them. “It is obvious to me that I have never fought anyone. Not in this body, anyhow. So somehow these memories have been planted inside me, but they are not mine. I think the recording is correct and I am a clone, just as you are.”
“Is that why some of you don’t have names? Or memories of anything?” I scan the small group. There are two girls that have no names at all, so I’ve been calling them Natalie and Vivian, after two of my sisters.
The male with the cat features shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. I just woke up here, too.” He gives me a ghost of a smile.
Right. He wouldn’t know unless it was planted in his head, too. “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, you’re all home now.”
One of the women raises a hand timidly. “Can I ask a question?” When I nod, she continues. “How is it I can understand your words? I don’t speak alien.”
Speak alien? That’s cute. “My guess is that you have a translator, just like me.” I tap my head, at a spot behind my ear. “The aliens have a technology that lets a chip implant translate languages for you and also accelerates your learning of those other languages. That’s all.” It’s not something I think about often. I don’t even pay attention to what I’m speaking anymore, and I’m pretty sure I’ve picked up enough of the alien tongue that I probably speak an amalgam of both English and the sakh tongue. At least we don’t have to worry about interpreting language. It’s one less thing to stress over in regards to our new castaways.