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But text flashed, golden and looping, dispelling that idea instantly.
Zabrian males want brides! read the advert. Find your new home and husband on the ranching outpost planet of Zabria Prinar One!
And then, the magic fucking words.
All bridal travel and expenses covered in full by the Imperial Justice Committee of Zabria.
I could get off-world and someone else would pay for it.
And all I had to do was apparently marry a Zabrian, whatever the hell that was.
Adjusting my grip on my pan, I took my comms tablet from my pocket and scanned the code on the screen before it blipped out of existence. The data downloaded, and I stared in shaky wonder as a paid-for ticket to Elora Station suddenly appeared in my data folders.
Elora Station. That was a fantastic fucking start. The human-run commerce station was a good distance from Terratribe I. I had no doubt that Magnus had contacts on the station, but hopefully I wouldn’t be there long before I shipped off to this Zabrian outpost place.
I tucked my comms tablet back into my pocket. This was the only lift in the building, and even if that big guy took the stairs five at a time I knew I’d beat him to the bottom. But I still had to move quickly. I’d go straight to the New Toronto shuttle bay with my ticket and get off-world tonight.
I caught another glimpse of myself in the doors’ reflection and grimaced. I didn’t have a bag. Or money. Or even a change of clothes to get rid of my oil-streaked factory uniform.
But I had Mama’s pan.
A ticket.
A chance.
And if I had to marry some unknown alien to make good on that chance, well…
The grey, choppy surface of Lake New Nipissing flashed, cold and unwelcome, in my brain.
Well, it certainly beat the alternative.
4
CHERRY
To my utter (and grateful) astonishment, not only was my ticket to Elora Station paid for, but also a stay in a small-but-tidy room. Though I still didn’t have any fresh clothes to change into, or enough money to buy a whole new outfit, I was at least able to have a hot shower and lay down in a clean bed.
Not that I slept. Not a damn wink. Nerves ate up my belly as I alternated between worrying about Magnus’ men finding me here and worrying about how tomorrow would go. I was to report to a human-Zabrian liaison office at 9am station-time for orientation and more details on the program. According to the data pamphlet that had downloaded itself onto my comms tablet, I’d get more information on the ranching outpost world and Zabrian culture so that I would be able to make an informed decision on whether to go or not.
But in my heart, I already knew what I’d do. I was leaving this fucking station as soon as my Zabrian husband would have me.
Of course, I’d have to live with him. Be his partner.
And sleep with him.
I shivered and drew the covers tighter around myself. I hadn’t slept beside anybody else except Mama, whom I’d shared a bed with in our tiny one-bedroom apartment.
I’d had sex before, but only with human men on Terratribe I. I’d seen more alien males on my walk through Elora Station to these temporary sleeping quarters than I’d seen in my entire twenty-six years of life. I cast my mind’s eye back over the various beings in the crowds and wondered if there was any one of those species that I would be wholly and utterly incapable of having sex with. There had been some distinctly beetle-looking bipeds and the thought of getting naked with one of them made my stomach clench queasily. But I was not in the position to be picky, here.
I’d marry a beetle man if I had to. Hell, maybe I would be the weird one to him.
Although the Zabrian Empire was recruiting human women for this bride program, so we humans couldn’t be too unattractive to them. Hopefully.
The last thing I wanted was for my future husband to get one look at me and flat-out change his mind and send me back. I’d have to be on my best behaviour. Make sure I won him over so that he wanted to keep me even if he thought I was less than appealing.
With these sorts of thoughts on my mind, I tossed and turned until my alarm went off at 8am station-time. I grimaced as I pulled on yesterday’s uniform, shaking my head at myself in the mirror. I guessed I didn’t have to worry about my husband rejecting me if I didn’t even get through the recruitment process. Knowing my clothing was not particularly presentable, I spent extra time trying to tame my wavy brown hair, smoothing it back into a halfway-decent braid. Once my teeth and face were clean, I figured that was as good as it was gonna get, and I headed out the door.
Terratribe I had its crowds, especially during break times or shift changes at the factory, but it never felt like this. Back home, there was always a grey drudgery attached to movement in large groups, all of us trudging off to complete our work or to get home and sleep a bit before we did it all over again the next day. But here, people moved with a happy, fizzing sort of energy, many of them with smiles on their faces. Sweet-smelling drinks were carried and shiny shopping bags dangled from claws and fingers and tentacles. And the crazy thing was that this wasn’t even as busy as Elora Station got. Elora Station followed the Old-Earth calendar system, which meant it was currently June here. From what I’d heard, this place really got popping during the Old-Earth Christmas season.
