“You’ll figure it out.” I stroke her hair. “You don’t need to do it all at once.”
“I can’t go back into captivity and have them experiment on me whenever they want. I just can’t. The possibility that I could—it’s almost worse than being free. It’s so terrifying.”
“You’re safe now.” I hold her until she cries it out.
The suns rise higher in the sky, and dual beams of light stream in from opposite directions, casting an intricate shadow pattern across our bodies.
She looks up at me and swipes a hand across her eyes. There’s peace there and a new determination. She is back in charge of herself again.
“I’m ready. Tell me what I need to do.”
Kailani
“Stay ten paces behind me,” he whispers. “Walk in my footsteps.”
“Got it.” I’m much shorter than he is, but my stride is long because I use my enhanced muscles to leap from spot to spot where he’s crushed down the crispy waist-high grasses with his large boots.
“Your breathing okay?” He keeps the same pace as the sky gradually picks up more color, reds shooting through the original blue and pink. There are clouds, too, the kind that burst with moisture. So far it’s been dry, which is good news. We can get the flowers while they’re intact.
“Fine. Yes.” It took a few minutes of deep gulps of air, but my strong lungs adjusted even faster than his Zandian ones.
“I’m great.” The cold air on my cheeks exhilarates me. Even the thoughts of dangerous locals can’t dampen my boundless joy at just walking around without Kraa slave masters watching my every move. And having mastered that inoculation with his help? It made me feel invincible. I did a thing that was in my worst nightmares—and I survived.
“I’ve downloaded an ag map of the territory onto my holo. We’ll walk a mile due Southeast, and we should hit a field where we might find flowers.” He turns to look at me.
“How did you get such a map?” I leap across a boggy patch of grass, black mud seeping up between thick gray roots.
“Zandians have information about many planets in the galaxies.” His shoulders seem stiff. I feel like his voice is different from before, almost like he’s hiding something from me.
Suddenly, I hear something. On instinct, I grab his sleeve. “Footsteps to the left. Get down.”
> I immediately dive and nestle into the grass. He’s beside me in a flash, his head inches from mine. It’s not the time or place, but the warmth from his body and his lips so close remind me of what we did on the ship, when he spanked me and brought me pleasure.
“You heard that even before I did.” His voice holds grudging admiration. “Good work.”
“Cochlear surgery when I was eight solar cycles. I can’t tell if it’s sentients or animals.” I suppress my surge of pride at his praise. Speaking of the surgery doesn’t bring quite the rush of horror as usual—whether it’s his presence or the fact that I was able to take a vaccine voluntarily, I’m more in control of my emotions.
He cocks his head. “I think they’re four-legged. I’m going to check. Stay down.” He hovers his hand over my back and gets into a quick crouch, so nimbly that I raise my eyebrows. He peers above the tall grasses. “It’s a kind of antlex, a herd of ten.”
He examines the horizon in all directions. “There are a few herds around us. They should be harmless—herbivores. Placid.”
He gets up and reaches a hand down for me.
“Thank you.” I smile as I stand and look around. I’ve never seen a wild animal before. The grazing beasts are striped brown and white, colors that blend into the landscape. Their horns are impossibly curled, corkscrew twists that glint amber in the light. They’re spectacular to me. “We’re safe.”
“It seems so,” he says, but frowns. He examines the distance again and blinks. “I don’t see anything else.” He hesitates, as if something is bothering him. He looks up at the sky, where the previous gorgeous pinks and oranges have been obscured by thick gray clouds, long like blankets. “Let’s keep going before the weather changes.”
He’s moving fast again, almost jogging, and despite my much shorter legs, I keep up effortlessly, thanks to years of muscle fiber enhancement drug therapy.
In a minute, we near a small patch of scraggly trees, almost like a wind-line, and beyond that is a vast field of flowers. A few of them, smaller but no less gorgeous, grow amongst the trees. All of the flowers are blue, but my eyes zero in on the ones that I remember: These are the ones I need—I recognize them.
I catch my breath. “They’re really here.”
The relief I feel is almost unbearable. “We can get them.” My voice catches. I crouch down and reach out, touching the nearest one. With these, I can survive without the Kraa. “I can get them.” The petals are soft and springy, and my finger glides softly down the stem. “Look, Khrys. See how this one has a slight sheen on it?” I touch it lightly. “This is the one.” I point to the flower next to it. “This one is darker, just a bit. It doesn’t have the right pollen.”
He looks intently, bends down to examine it, too. “Got it.”
I smell the flower. “It’s like life incarnate.” I close my eyes for a second.