Page 84 of Exiles on Earth
El-len stares, still perched on the back of the bike as if afraid to move.
I slide off, holding out my hand to help her dismount, when a shout makes my scales harden.
“Gerverstock, take your samples and specimen to the service levels,” a Parthiastock snaps, unlatching his veralash with a click.
I bristle. Normally I wouldn’t challenge the enforcer, but he misstepped this time. “I’m escorting a female.”
“A…” His eyes bulge as El-len swings her leg over the bike and steps down to the plaza. Dropping to his knees so fast they crack on the stones, he cries, “My deepest apologies, female, I’ll submit myself for re-education at once.”
El-len winces, pulling up her translation headphones too late. “What’s he saying? And please tell him he doesn’t have to kneel.”
“But he needs to kneel to every female he’s displeased, or he’ll be punished. He said he’ll voluntarily undertake re-education for his mistake in calling you a sample.”
“What’s re-education?”
“A programme for Parthiastocks, where they relearn all the laws. Usually with shock helmets.”
El-len puts a trembling hand to her face. “No! Don’t let him do that just because of one error.”
Part of me wants to tell this Parthiastock to go anyway, for calling El-len a specimen, but when I turn back, I see Dom kneeling, muscles shuddering under the weight of his responsibility. Parthiastocks are the checks against clones, ensuring we all obey, but they’re clones themselves, suffering the same penalties.
“You can leave us,” I tell him. “The human female is kind and doesn’t want to see you re-educated.”
He springs to his feet, eyes glistening. “Thank you, female. Which facility do you wish to enter?”
El-len quickly explains we’re looking for a sick dog, and I add she’s a starhound. El-len gives me an exasperated look but the clone guides us to a grand entrance, an imposing archway adorned with intricate carvings and polished to a mirror shine. It’s a place I’ve never been allowed to enter, and I stop along with the Parthiastock clone.
“This is where you should go,” I tell her, nodding toward the door. “They’ll accommodate you here.”
“But… I don’t want to be separated from you.”
Moving away from the Parthiastock, I hold up my forearm to show her the smooth scales, pointing to a section with a hairline triangular scar. “Inside here is a small integrated circuit, a chip. Every building entrance and exit has a scanner, as do most intersections. My chip has likely been tagged with my crime and punishment, so if I enter, I’ll have more Parthiastocks descend and… ask questions.”
She raises an eyebrow, glancing over my shoulder at the one already looking at me with suspicion. “And I bet that’s putting it mildly.”
I nod once, jaw tight.
“Can I… urgh, I can’t believe I’m saying this. Can I use my female privilege to let you in?”
“I don’t think so. The Parthiastocks won’t let law breakers approach females.”
“And…” She glances at me from under her lashes. “You don’t know any back alley ways?”
My hesitation is all she needs to seize on the truth with triumph. “You do! Take me where you’re going,” she insists, her voice firm. “I want to see what your life is like.”
I exhale sharply, glancing around at the Parthiastock. “The female has changed her mind. We’re returning.”
The enforcer nods and watches us leave, but he stays there. Making sure no one’s watching, I motion for her to follow me. “Come on, then. But stay close.”
I lead her around the back of the facility, where Gerverstock clones deliver samples from across the galaxy and hand them off to the Hortustocks to try to grow. The area is stark and functional, with no decorations—just a series of reinforced doors and a loading dock. A few Hortustocks move with mechanical precision as they lift and carry plascrete boxes of specimens.
El-len stays close to my elbow, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. “Where do you live?”
I point beyond the doors, blocks of gray buildings stretching out before us. The buildings rise in uniformity, every one identical to the next, with sharp angles and featureless facades. It’s bleak, yes, but provides our basic needs.
“They’re all the same,” she whispers. “And... there’s no grass.”
She’s right, there isn’t. The lack of any plants highlights how lifeless the blocks really are, and the realization twists something deep in my gut.
