Page 66 of Exiles on Earth
She sits in the meagre kitchen. There’s barely room for five men to sit and eat their powdered meals, and El-len’s swamped by the chairs. Slurping the spoonful down with a grimace that’s endearing in its solidarity, she rolls up her sleeves. She’s taken to wearing her shirt and trousers only, the ship’s temperature warm enough for her, and I have to avoid staring at the creamy expanse of forearm bared before me.
She glances up at me. She’s never once brought up the ecstasy we shared in the sheep shed. Is this the moment? Will she ask to be my mate? It would be cruel in the extreme if the universe moves her to ask me now, and I have to rebuff her to save her heart from hurt.
“So tell me about these… mating competitions, was it?” Her voice is a little higher pitched than usual.
There’s no harm in telling her. I’m numb to the loss by now. “They’re trials of traits which are essential to being a good mate. They’re public, so all the females interested in acquiring another partner can see what the males have to offer.”
“What kind of trials? Are they dangerous?” She plays with her spoon, fingers turning it over and over as if feeling its weight. This all is so new to her, and yet she’s calm and taking it all in her stride, trying to find similarities between our worlds. The spoon is a universal instrument; the way her skin is responsive to touch is also the same as mine. Recalling her taste and the noises she made causes the blood in my body to heat, cocks swelling.
I pull myself back from carnal thoughts. “Some of them aredangerous,” I tell her quietly. “They test a male’s suitability as a mate, so he has to show his ability to protect the one who chooses him.”
She offers me a small smile. “You’ll have no problem with that, you’re scary strong.”
Scary. The word lands like a blow, twisting in my chest. Terrifying. Fearsome. Is she afraid of me?
She doesn’t look scared. Instead, she tucks a strand of her beautiful hair behind her ear. “Why do they need protection? Is it not safe on your planet?”
“It’s safe. Especially for females.”
“Then why?”
I shift in my seat, the edge of the chair digging into my thighs. “Instinct,” I reply. “There’s still an ingrained instinct in females to want a good protector. They like to see that ability displayed; it’s entertaining, and proves how committed a mate is.”
Her lips press into a thoughtful line before curling upward. The faintest flush rises in her cheeks, and my hearts pound in response. “Mm, yeah. I guess our species has that instinct too.” She smiles, and I’m undone. “Don’t worry, the ladies will snap you up. I’m sure.”
Snap me up. Yes, I’ll be claimed—by death itself. My throat tightens, and I wonder if my pain is etched too clearly on my face, because suddenly, her hand rests on my forearm. My chest soars as though gravity released me, weightless and free, but her brown eyes keep me safely tethered.
“Really,” she says, her voice soft with insistence, “you’ll be great. Anyone in their right mind would want you as their…” Her words falter, her cheeks blooming a deeper red.
“Mate?” The word scrapes from my throat, raw and jagged. Inside, I’m screaming. Say it. Take me. Claim me!
But I cannot, I should not. Her hand slips away, her fingers knotting together in her lap, a wall I cannot breach, andI sit there, my body thrumming with her absence, lost in the void she leaves behind.
“Um. Anyway, is there anything useful I can do on this ship? Just watching Floss with no way to help her is maddening.”
When she’s awake, El-len spends hours outside the stasis unit, her voice soft and steady as she speaks to Floss. Through the frosted plascrete window, we see nothing but icy vapor, though the vitals displayed on the tablets assure us Floss is stable. I stand nearby, my gaze fixed on El-len, the ache in my chest burning like acid.
El-len continues, “I can’t do nothing, and I keep stewing over the farm. There’s jobs piling up without me there to manage it, and sheep will start going into labor in less than a month. If I’m not there, we could lose too many, and then the farmers’ll pull their contracts with me. Might even sue me. I can’t cope with something like that.”
The tirade rocks me back. El-len’s list seems never ending, just as my own is when I’m mission leader.
I look into her troubled brown eyes. “These are problems, big ones. Ones you can’t solve out here. But you have help.”
“What?”
“It’s who. Your friends, and my crew. If they get hints of what to do, they’ll work it out and do it.”
Her brows lift. “I suppose. Nicole’s a vet, and she helps me with the ewes around this time. Laura and Arabella will help, but they’ve got their own lives.”
“True. But as you bolster them, they rally for you.” I tap the table. “You carry so many burdens, El-len. If there’s one thing I wish for you, it’s to allow others who want to help to do so. It’ll help you lead more effectively, but also conserve your resources more, so you can continue leading.”
She drops her head in her hands, tired eyes sparkling at me. “Ditto to you.”
The nanites can’t translate that word. “What does ‘ditto’ mean?”
“It means everything you just said applies to you, too. You’re so busy carrying everyone else’s loads around to see it, but you put yourself under constant pressure.”
The truth she reveals makes me sit back on my chair. They’re each specialists, but I drive the mission, helping them work together toward success. There were once many successes in my team, yes, until my dreams painted a target on them. But that’s my fault, not theirs.
