Terran (Breeder) (18 page)

With many of the males away on a hunt, Jergan and Urazi among them, Anika had invited Tara on a gathering expedition. Marlix also was absent, attending to the rule of his province, and though Tara wondered if under the new paradigm she should have requested permission to leave the Enclave, she reasoned she was not unchaperoned—wouldn’t Marlix like her to get to know his sister? If he would let her sell fabrics, what difference did it make if she picked nuts?

She expected to just walk outside the Enclave gates, but Anika surprised her by striding to a conveyance.

“How far away are we going?” Tara eyed the sulfur-snorting beasts nervously and reconsidered her acceptance of the invitation. Marlix and Urazi, both large men, could handle the animals, but could Anika? And she didn’t want to stray too far from the village.

“Not far,” Anika answered, gesturing to the wagon’s bed, which contained a number of baskets. “But when those are full, we will not be able to carry them.”

“All of those?” Tara counted six. “That’s a lot of picking.”

“The work will pass quickly.”

So they boarded the conveyance and bounced out of the Enclave, waving to the sentries at the exit. Anika handled the reins adeptly, guiding the animals with a judicious application of the quirt. Tara’s respect for her grew. “I haven’t seen many females driving conveyances.”

“They do not. They ride in the back with the supplies. But I have learned to do many things since I arrived at the Enclave.” She glanced at Tara. “You will be leaving soon.”

“When Alpha says.” Tara liked how his title rolled off her lips. The resonance stirred an ache between her thighs and filled her with satisfaction, and despite some misgivings, she knew she had arrived home. In this alien world with an alien man, she had found her place. What major life decision was made with 100 percent certainty? Nor had she surrendered all her free will. She was out with Anika, wasn’t she? And as a Terran, she could return to Earth at any time she pleased.

“You call him Alpha?” Anika raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. We have discussed it, and I agreed to become his breeder.”

Anika glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “A female does not
choose
to become the breeder of an Alpha.”

Tara recalled her punishment, Marlix’s demand of proper address, and his
announcement
she would be his female. No, she had had little choice there—at first. But then he had relented and
asked
her. “Alpha makes concessions because I am Terran,” she said.

“The son of my sire has changed once again.” Anika pulled the conveyance off the lane and halted it. “From here we walk.”

Tara jumped from her seat and felt a strong jolt in her nipple. They each grabbed three baskets from the wagon bed.

“We will go this way.” Anika gestured toward a thicket of brush.

Tara eyed the heavy shrubbery. “I don’t see a path.”

“There is not. If there were, it would not be a secret.” Anika winked.

Holding the baskets high, they tromped across ground overgrown by vines and through bushes that scratched at their legs. Anika wore a double-sleeved Enclave shift, while Tara wore two Parseon ones, so their arms, at least, were protected. Tara went through uniforms at the rate of one or two a day—every time they had sex. For some reason, Marlix derived satisfaction in ripping them. She stifled a giggle. Maybe he had a shift-ripping fetish.

The double shifts concealed the ring marking her as Alpha’s breeder, a necessary secret around the Enclave, since Marlix was still incognito. Only Anika knew his identity. So she assumed. “Does Jergan know Marlix is Alpha?”

“He did not at first, but once he learned of our kinship, he deduced it. I convinced him to remain silent.”

Tara stubbed her booted foot on an exposed root. A barefooted Anika sprang lightly though the woods. “How do you walk over such terrain without shoes?” Tara asked.

She shrugged. “I am used to it.”

Branches nicked Tara’s face. Scratches crisscrossed her legs from the knees down. Her arms ached from holding the baskets above her head to prevent them from snagging on brambles. Just when she feared she couldn’t hold them aloft anymore, they halted in a small clearing—an area perhaps half the size of Tara and Marlix’s hut.

“We are here.” Anika dropped her load to the ground and swept her arm in an arc.

Tara dumped her baskets and surveyed the small-leafed bushes, their branches drooping under the weight of reddish-brown nuts the size of acorns. “The mother lode.” Tara nodded.

“I do not understand what that means,” Anika admitted in a way that reminded her of Marlix. She was indeed the sister of the same mister. How many times had he said something similar? Except he’d understood more than she’d presumed. He’d spanked her for every single name she’d called him. From time to time, she still experienced tingling in her butt cheeks from the sudon.

“Mother lode means a lot. A main vein or supply,” Tara explained.

“Then, yes, it is a mother lode.”

“Have you ever been paddled with a sudon?” She blurted out.

“Many times.” Anika smiled. “I doubt there is a female alive who has not had her buttocks burned by the tail of the baronian ilyx. Do not rub your skin afterward,” she advised. “It will worsen the sting.”

“I wish somebody had warned me,” Tara muttered. “Does Jergan use the sudon on you?” A personal, intrusive question, but as she and Marlix would leave soon, this might be her last chance to ascertain the parameters of normal.

“He does. When I push him too far. Protocol is flexible at the Enclave, and males and females freely congregate, but the males still rule the domicile. Even though Jergan is beta, I must obey him.” Anika nimbly plucked nuts as she spoke. “But he is very permissive with me.”

Tara moved to one of the heavily laden bushes and grabbed one of the hard-shelled fruits. Something pierced her skin, and she cried out. She yanked her hand away to find her finger bleeding.

“I forgot to warn you about the thorns,” Anika apologized.

Tara sucked her finger and eyed the bush. Now that she examined it closer, she could see the branches were loaded with needlelike spurs. She glanced at the half-dozen baskets. “Is it worth it?”

“The acca provides an essential component of our diet. We eat whole nuts, and we grind them into flour for panna. The oil from the acca is used in lamps and as a skin emollient.”

Not to mention as anal lube. Tara blushed and avoided Anika’s eyes.

“The males may or may not get meat for the winter,” Anika explained. “But the acca nut contributes protein and sustains us. Other food sources are secondary. Nothing of importance can be acquired without cost or pain. We will have a few scratches before we are done.”

“You say that like it’s nothing.” Tara tore a nut from a bush and threw it in the basket.
Take that
. She glared at the shrub.

“We consider the ability to withstand discomfort a sign of strength and courage. As an Alpha-in-training, Marlix overcame great hardship and bore significant pain. Many alphas do not survive. But those who do are made stronger.” Her gaze seemed to cloud over. “I was still young when Marlix left for training, and when he returned to visit our sire, I almost did not recognize the warrior he had become. There was no tenderness, compassion, or affection left in him. Alpha training had succeeded where our sire’s discipline had failed. Marlix often had felt the burn of the sudon—and much worse for expressing emotion. He’d been flogged many times for relatively minor infractions.”

“How terrible!” Tara stared aghast. “What did your mother—your breeder—think about that?”

Anika continued to pick the hard-shelled fruit, working swiftly and efficiently. She had one basket half-filled already. “Our breeder had done well to produce a son who became Alpha, but before Marlix entered training, she had lost many offspring in utero—most of them males—and then I was born. Our sire was disappointed in her, so he sent back her to the Breeder Containment Facility.”

Horrified, Tara pressed a hand to her chest. With all their advanced medical knowledge, they must have understood that it was the sperm from the male that determined the baby’s sex—or maybe not. What did she know about Parseon genetics? Maybe female ova determined gender.

Anika dropped a handful of nuts into the basket and approached Tara. To her amazement, Anika enveloped her in a hug. Golden eyes so similar to Marlix’s crinkled when she pulled back. “You have revived the Marlix I knew as a child. Because of his opposition to the Enclave, his presence had concerned me. But you have uncovered the compassion and kindness that duty and honor had buried.” She hugged her again before turning and targeting another acca plant.

“I-I-I don’t know what to say.”

Anika glanced over her shoulder. “Say you will stay with him. He will be difficult, but he needs you.”

* * * *

The beta clerk maintained a neutral countenance as he spread out the scroll. Marlix gripped his signatory seal and took a breath. He had vowed never to waver in a decision. One did not rule by questioning every move. His people did not follow him because he wielded absolute power but because he demonstrated certainty. Ambiguity led to chaos, which fed discontent.

People did not wish to choose their way; they wished to be told what the way was.

But he was about to give his people more choice than they wanted.

According to operative reports, Qalin and Artom had doubled tariffs and taxes and had begun conscripting alphas, even betas, into their guard forces while purging purported dissidents and deviants. Drones had discovered mass graves. They’d executed thousands more than the vigilantes had ever killed. Not since the Tribal Wars had the death toll been so high.

Parseon had approached a crossroads, and with a stamp of his seal, Marlix would change the course of history, alter Protocol. He still stood by the efficiency, organization, and discipline offered by Protocol. Five provinces, five alphas. Roles and behaviors defined by nature’s intent. Clear delineation had kept their race of warriors strong, while preventing them from destroying each other through petty rivalries.

But he would not allow Qalin or Artom justification to move against his people. Marlix had released with reparations those in his province who had been imprisoned for Protocol violations. It was only natural that like sought and attracted like, but if males paired with females instead of other males, did such aberrance harm anyone? Weren’t the vigilantes who incited and committed acts of violence the ones who undermined political stability?

Why should taking his pleasure with Tara in the privacy of their cottage be anyone’s concern? And if he circumvented Protocol, should he not allow others to do so?

Now that he had tagged Tara, she would obey and serve him. So different from other females, she had caught his attention from the beginning. But nothing could compare to the sight of her kneeling before him and hearing her throaty voice calling him Alpha. To claim Tara was to tame fire. He could not envision trading her for the unsatisfactory, rushed, anxiety-laden liaisons of his recent past.

Marlix glanced at his beta clerk. His staff epitomized discretion. Whatever their personal beliefs, they would support him 100 percent. Of course, no one dared defy an Alpha unless one drew pleasure from being flogged. But Marlix wondered what his circumspect clerk really thought. The male was efficient and competent but otherwise unremarkable—a good representative of the populace.

Marlix gestured at the scroll. “And what is your opinion of this edict?”

The clerk did not blink. In a modulated tone, he replied, “I believe your will is served, Commander.”

“But what do you think about the Order of Protection outlawing retaliation against deviants?”

The clerk shifted his gaze to the exit. He straightened. “My apologies for my failure, Commander. I do not understand the question.”

“Yes, you do.” Marlix tapped the seal on the desk. “As your Alpha, I command you to answer truthfully.”

“Very well.” The beta fidgeted with nervousness, but his drooping mouth revealed his feelings. “I do not believe Parseon will benefit by allowing the drakor to reject Protocol.”

Marlix himself had used the D word, but to hear the vilest insult in the Parseon language come out of his clerk’s mouth startled him. The name originated from a breed of carrion-eating vermin that had caused disease to sweep across the planet, resulting in many deaths. By the time the plague had ended, half the population had died. The resulting weaknesses had allowed opportunistic invaders to seize control and led to the tribal warfare that had nearly destroyed Parseon. But he could not fault him. Only recently had Marlix’s own feelings wavered from the hard-line expressed by the clerk.

“I apologize for my crude language, Commander.” The beta recovered his decorum.

The strong sentiments of his clerk indicated how the rest of the population felt, and solidified Marlix’s opinion that Protocol needed to be amended to become more flexible, more compassionate. Dak had taken the first step; he would take the second. With emphasis, Marlix stamped the scroll and handed it to the clerk. He waved his hand in dismissal. “You may go.”

The beta saluted and left.

Marlix swiveled in his chair, his thoughts drifting to a certain Terran. A realist, he expected he would have to make allowances, but Tara seemed to be melding into her role, behaving with deference and respect. Her ability to assimilate showed the rightness of his decision to claim her. He enjoyed the best of Parseon and Terra—he owned a female who deferred to and obeyed him because she wanted to, not because it was demanded, and who also had the ability to please him through her pleasure.

Marlix shifted in his seat. His manhood had hardened as it did whenever she entered his thoughts. He wondered how she occupied herself right now. Fortunately, her nipple ring was encoded with a tracking device.

He tapped into his PCS, and her coordinates appeared.

Marlix frowned. According to the data, Tara had ventured several kilometers away from the Enclave. He called up the detail and discovered her location corresponded to an isolated wooded area. For what reason would she have left the Enclave? Was she alone?