Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“I’m not,” she says. “I’m quite plain, actually.”
I catch her jaw and turn her face toward mine. “You’re beautiful,” I say firmly. “I may not be able to see you, but I know. And a Zandian never lies.”
My sensors show the corners of her mouth lift in a smile and I’m stunned by the corresponding joy that fills my chest.
Strange how these humans can affect the Zandians’ normal stasis.
Zina
We lie together, the soft light streaming down on us lying on the training mats. This time the beams are delicate and soft, teasing my skin and him, and I only feel contentment. Not just from the phenomenal orgasm, but this feeling—being safe in a beings’ embrace, it’s the most amazing sensation I’ve ever felt.
It feels really good to—for once—be the one who’s protected, instead of doing the protecting. Not that I’ve ever minded putting Enya first, because I love her. But setting down my burden for a second, letting someone else watch my back? I’ve never felt this. And it’s so good.
A tear runs down my face.
“Hey. What is it?” He touches my skin. He’s so intuitive, blind or not.
I reach up and put my hand over his, feel his strong fingers on my face. “Nothing. I’m happy.”
“So am I.” He speaks quickly, then his face darkens, and he turns away. He doesn’t let me go, but I sense him start to pull back in some ephemeral way. And I know that I need to keep him here with me, in this moment. It’s what I want and need, and I think he does too.
I take a deep breath and bring out my emotions.
“My leg.” I speak quickly, trying to suck him back into the bubble of the two of us. I’m not really ready to speak of it, but I’d do anything to get his attention back.
He turns back.
“I was born into house slavery. When I was young, there was a doctor on the planet, trying to improve Ocretion strength and muscle tone. And see if he could make humans stronger for their tasks. He decided to experiment on a few young humans. Master offered me up in exchange for a monetary reward.”
I clench my fists tightly and squeeze my eyes shut.
“He did some operations on us. Took out some nerve and muscle tissue to see if it could be used to strengthen Ocretions. Broke the bones and watched how they healed under various conditions. Mine”—my voice is dark, bitter—“were some of the less fortunate circumstances to be tested.”
“Oh, stars, vecking stars,” he curses. “Zina, if I could I’d go there right now and slaughter them all.” His voice is so full of passion that I’m able to continue.
I nod. I’m not crying now. This pain is too deep for tears. I speak as if I’m a robot, telling a story that belongs to another being. “Eventually the Ocretions decided he was too vile even for them, which is saying a lot.” I chuckle without humor. “He was sent away off planet, I don’t know where, and his program disbanded.” I touch my leg. “But you can’t disband this.”
I touch my belly. “After the leg, Master had me sterilized with implants. Said I wasn’t worth wasting on breeding, so he’d keep me safe from accidental pregnancy. Costly, you know. And the implants have been in for so long that it may have become permanent. I know I’m not worth much, but I do my best anyway.”
Tarek is silent, and when I look at him, his face is twisted in sympathy and anger. He opens his mouth like maybe he wants to argue with me, but closes it. After a few seconds, he touches my head once. “Such a difficult life.”
We don’t speak for a while.
“I’m all right, though. I train and work hard despite the injury. I call it an injury, because that’s easier.” I take a breath. “And Enya gave me purpose. I went on for her—to make our lives livable.”
He squeezes my hand. “When I was young…” He waits so long that I think he’s done, and then he continues. “My father wasn’t affectionate. Zandians aren’t, typically, but he was cold, even for our species.”
“Oh?” I sense that he’s going to tell me his own horror story. And although I’m afraid of what I’ll hear, my heart warms, knowing he’s sharing something personal with me. An honor; according to Abbi, Zandians are notoriously stoic and don’t open up to new beings easily. If ever.
“I was born blind, and he blamed me.” His voice is low and tight.
“I’m no expert, but even I understand you can’t blame a newly formed child for defects.” I grasp his hand harder. It’s so huge, it dwarfs mine. But right now, I feel that I’m the one giving him strength as he speaks.
“I was a smaller fetus than expected, and lacked a critical enzyme in my mother’s womb. Her body overcompensated trying to support me, and was able to sustain me, except for the eyes.” He touches his forehead. “But… it was too much for her. She died in childbirth.”