With the remainder of humanity in chains, Shasta keeps her head down and tries to weather the storm. Servicing the filthy needs of a superior alien race, each day passes in a blur, the struggle to survive outweighing everything else.
After ten years...
My limp, worn out body feels like it's floating. The warmth of the sun settles on my skin, shining on my closed eyelids.
"I have to go away again." His voice sounds far away.
"Why?" I whine. I hate it when he goes away. It's so boring. Now that we aren't on bad terms anymore, I suspect my days will not be so lonely anymore. I don't want him to leave immediately after we reconcile.
He sighs but doesn't respond. The arm that my neck is resting on tenses causing me to open my eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I will explain it when I'm sure."
I want to pester him to explain it now. He doesn't look right. Something is off. I thought that things would go back to normal now but there is still something bothering him and I'm beginning to think it has nothing to do with me.
"Destroyer?" I roll onto my side and run my hand over his chest. "You can tell me, no matter what it is. Sometimes it's good to just talk about a problem."
"Talk it out?" He looks down at me before dropping his head back into the sand again. "We do not talk it out."
My eyes roll behind my closed lids. Fine. Don't talk about it then.
"Do you remember how I came to be a warrior?" He asks suddenly. His voice is so quiet it makes me doubt that he actually spoke at all.
"You said that you were chosen at birth." I think back to the day he explained it. - the pride in his eyes.
"Yes. It is an honor for us and our families. When we are born, we are taken from our families and the comforts of home and raised for this. I have been in training since before my memories." His words and his tone don't match. Usually, there is pride pouring from him when he mentions being a warrior. Now, his voice is soft, and there is a hint of confusion behind it.
"Have you seen your parents since you were selected?"
"No. A warrior is taken at ten days old. I would not recognize my parents if they stood before us now."
Instinctively, my hand runs over his heart, my fingertips gently sweep over his skin.
"How are you chosen?" I hope I'm not asking too many questions and souring the mood.
"We are selected on the day of our birth. The commander of our kind personally picks based on bloodline, pedigree and family status. To be a warrior is considered the highest honor one can receive. Any family with a warrior in their lineage is considered to be high in stature."
That didn't really answer my question. "What happens when you're done being a warrior? Do you get to go home?"
"There is a paradise waiting when my service is complete. We give an oath, our lives to protect and honor Astrynia, then we are retired to a planet of lush greenery and cool waters. It is our reward. When our oaths are fulfilled, we are given paradise. "
"That sounds amazing."
"It does." There is an edge in his voice that I don't recognize. His chest is tense again.
Instead of asking more questions, I press a kiss to the center of his chest and lay my head over his beating heart.
His breathing slows as we absorb the silence and the sun. Peeking up, I watch him. Seeing him like this never ceases to amaze me. His large frame is spread out and relaxed; it's almost comical. He's still huge. He's still imposing - but in this position it's just different. There's something about his features when he's relaxed. I like that I get to see him this way. It feels like a privilege.
"We were raised in pods," he suddenly says. "I was in AG149. I was warrior 98-2. That was my identifier. There were nine in my pod. They are my brothers. We grew together."
"Where are they now?" I have never seen him treat anyone like a brother.
"In order to pass our final test, we had to terminate the weakest link in our pod."
"What?" I shoot up and wait for him to explain. I must have misheard or misunderstood.
"Our scores were released, our tactical statistics were assessed and calculated. The weakest of each pod is dispatched by the other members." There is no emotion in his voice.
"That's so awful! Not just that the weakest ones were killed, but they made you do it! How horrible for you!" My heart burns in my chest.
"That is the way of life, Shasta of Earth. The weakest die because they cannot defend themselves."
"But you said you considered them as your brothers! How could you do such a thing?" I'm sick to my stomach. Just the thought is sickening.
"It was the final test. It was an order given by our commanders. We do not question orders. Anyone who hesitated would have been expelled from the program immediately and terminated. There is no room for feelings or emotions. We follow orders, we do as we were trained." His voice is so calm it's scary. "Warrior 98-5 would not have survived in the universe. He would have been killed by the enemy and likely caused the deaths of others. It is better that he not enter the field."
"But..." I roll my lips into my mouth, shutting myself up.
"Emotion is useless, Shasta. Connection and feelings end up killing you in the end. Do you understand? We cannot have connections, it is forbidden. We are tools, our existence is only to be used by the commanders. It is an honor." He sounds like he's begging. He wants me to agree with him, to understand but I can't.
"I think that connection is what saves you." I whisper. "It's the only thing that makes life worth living."
His heavy hand wraps around me, pulling me down onto his chest. "That is a foolish notion."
"Maybe."
"We should return. We will be leaving soon." He says this but doesn't move. He doesn't pull me up and drag me back to the ship. Instead, we stay perfectly still in the sand. His arms draped over my body, his thumb rubbing tiny circles on my back.
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