What had Shayla done to them?
If love could make a Hezara overcome the Hunger, perhaps control the timings of the spill, then it meant they could do it when they wanted, as often as they wished, and not have sex dictated to them by a calendar. What Kriss had achieved had to be a benefit to them all. Shayla, and the other Gifts, would not be inundated by hungry nestors all on one day, and the nestors themselves could control their urges. With their appetites spread out, they could enjoy the pleasure of sex without the pressure of performance.
Jago switched off the stream of water. It was time to present their findings to the queen. There was no reason to be ashamed. What had happened today was going to make a big difference to all Hezara across the galaxy.
Chapter Nineteen
“This way.” Kriss took Shayla’s hand.
She needed his cool grasp. Her fingers were trembling, and nothing, no calm thoughts, seemed to stop them.
The elevator descended. A long drop into a subterranean world beneath the lake. Finally the queen had sanctioned a visit.
Jago was waiting for them. He’d gone ahead to ensure formalities were correctly followed. She wore her smartest dress—made by Nieve’s friend.
“Do I bring a gift?” she’d asked Kriss.
The question had amused Kriss. “My love angel, you are the gift. Without you, the queen would struggle to fulfill her task. Our seed is plentiful because of you, which isn’t the case when relying on other means.” He carefully avoided references to Tina. The queen’s so-called task lacked something in Kriss’s tactful description. She lived alone and could only imagine what went on with the droids. Her own contribution was clinical and emotionless, hardly the basis for a meaningful relationship with any man.
Shayla was far from comfortable with her surroundings: the passageways were hewn out of rock and dimly lit. Poor queen, stuck underground, unseen.
“It’s like a mine,” she said.
Jago led the way. “This part is the outer construct. It’s designed to take the blast of a bomb. When this planet was colonized, the Violence were closer.”
A door opened and a beam of light dazzled Shayla. She sheltered her eyes with her hand. Stepping forward, her vision adjusted. They were walking through a vast cavern, but the walls were made from smoothed stone. Above her head, at the apex of the ceiling, was a glass skylight, a circle carved into the rock. Through it, the sun shone, and the beams splashed across the floor.
There were Gotti, a few huddled together talking, and other Hezara guardians.
“This is the assembly area,” Jago explained. “Over there, are the labs where the embryos are cultivated.”
He made them sound like plants lined up in a greenhouse. The language he used was clinical and regrettable. No babies, no happy mothers or fathers.
“From there, they are transplanted into the incubators, two, three or more, depending on the genetic similarities. Jago and I were born in a place just like this on our home world, Hinom.”
They skirted the outside wall and came to another imposing door covered in intricate carvings.
“This is the queen’s domain. Only we, and her Gotti, are allowed in.” Kriss pressed his palm against a console and the door slid aside.
“Come,” Jago said, offering her his hand.
Sandwiched between them, she entered a blue lit corridor. The ground was carpeted, softening their footfalls. The silence formidable.
“I’m so nervous,” she whispered. The walls flickered with tiny lights that followed them. A shiver went down her spine. “The walls are moving.”
“Sensors are scanning. We’ve cleared your profile, so it won’t set off an alarm.”
So much security was claustrophobic. Another door, and this time, Kriss opened it with a retinal scan.
“It’s a legacy, mostly, of when the queens had to protected. Now it’s just routine.” Jago shrugged off the protocols.
The door opened into a dome-shaped chamber. The ceiling was glass and directly under the lake. Water flowed around the glass, allowing sunlight through into the room. The air was surprisingly fresh and sweet smelling. Flowers grew in vases and cushions were scattered around two low tables. Kneeling at one was an ebony-haired woman with oval eyes and wearing a sparkling dress with long skirts. She rose to greet Shayla.
The queen was beautiful with a long nose, high browed, as tall as Kriss, and also broad in figure, although she moved with grace. She was older than Shayla, but not old like a mother might be after producing many offspring. Shayla really didn’t want to know how she managed to do it and stay looking sprightly.
Shayla bowed, as she’d been instructed to do during their pre-visit briefing.
“Your majesty,” she said politely.