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Human women sell eggs? This never occurred to me. On Kar’Kal, eggs are considered precious, and most females regularly attend freezing appointments to harvest as many mature ones as possible. I jolt upright and grab my tap-pad.
“Ella, this is a wonderful thought. I must tell Pakka immediately,” I say. “We can acquire samples… If we ever get in contact with the capitol’s birth center, they will likely be on board to provide Kar’Kali egg samples that we can experiment with.”
She grins wide, swelling with pride. She prepares her cup, which I realize now is the coffee she tried to tempt me with earlier in the week. The rich smell of it permeates the room. I had always associated this scent with her but did not understand the reason why. I see now that she must drink it all the time, and it is oddly satisfying to make this mental co
“So, what, is Pakka just okay with you being here now?” she asks, craning her neck to sneak a look at my tap-pad. “You two are just … chatting like nothing happened?”
I laugh. “Okay is not the word I would choose. He is begrudgingly dealing with my insubordination. Our people do not hold grudges.”
“And what about last night? Do you regret coming here?”
Do I? I could very well have attacked her. That is what all my prior teachings about the nature of unsuppressed individuals pointed towards. She teased me about calling another man, and it filled me with fury. But I had never considered the fact that she could very well have been living with another man here when I followed her. My reckless mind did not think of it until later. And what would I have done? Would I have done something horrible? It is possible… I feel more confident in my ability to control, but there is always that chance, the fear of slipping, digging at my conscience.
But no, I ca
“No,” I tell her, and I do not miss the way her face relaxes at my response. “I only regret that I am not the male you deserve, one that can give you everything you desire and court you in the ways of your own people.”
The relief in her expression is short-lived, as I realize I have said something else to upset her.
“Would they really excommunicate you?” she asks, frowning. “And if they did, would it matter, seeing as you’re already here on Earth?”
“It’s not a typical situation, that is true,” I concede, “But I would be removed from my research team, and my colleagues would be expected to cease all contact with me. I would most certainly never see Kar’Kal again… Just last night, Pakka stated it clearly enough when he wrote to me, ‘If you act like a Deviant, then you will be judged as such, and there will be nothing I can do to stand in the way of our laws.’”
She sips on her drink and then lets out a little sigh. “If you’re already going to be considered guilty of the crime,” she says in a honeyed tone. “Then why not do the deed?”
“This is why I call you viki,” I say with a smile. “I do not know if there is such a thing in your culture, which is why I suppose there is no direct translation. There are some Kar’Kali that are chosen from command units to train as viki. They have their chips removed and infiltrate smuggler rings, weapons producers, neutral foreign cities… They pretend to be like any other exiled Deviant, but they are actually loyal to Kar’Kal and sending information to the home planet.”
“Like a spy?” she asks, raising her brow. “You’ve been calling me a spy?”
“Viki have been known to truly defect as a result, and they can acquire a reputation of being untrustworthy,” I explain. “So, often the word is used simply to describe a person that is lying or altering the truth for their own purposes, maybe making tricks and being deceptive.”
She giggles, then waggles her brows at me. “Making tricks, huh?”
Abandoning her cup, she leans across the counter. “A Deviant criminal and a spy?” she muses, her mouth dangerously close to my own. “To human ears, it sounds like a match made in heaven.”
Her breath tickles my lips, and the feeling goes straight to my cock. It hardens quickly, and I grip the countertop.
“You are only proving me right. All viki are well-trained in the art of torture. And to have you this close without claiming you is a slow, sweet torture,” I whisper to her.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with it if you could claim it,” she teases before pulling away and walking around the countertop to sit up on the stool beside me. I am learning she likes to taunt me. I think she wants to see me turn wild again. She told me once before that she’d like to see me lose control. Of course, she is not wrong in her statement. In comparison to a human male, I’m sure I’m quite useless and inexperienced at the sexual things she might want from me. I say nothing, and simply absorb this opportunity to watch her backside sway as she walks.
“Spend the day with me,” she says. “Court me in the human way, like you said. Take me on a date, and then maybe I’ll let you claim me.”
Her mischievous expression sets her blue eyes sparkling.
“I thought you were being reasonable,” I say.
“Well, I’m looking at ‘reasonable’ from a new perspective today. We have two full days together to do whatever we want to do. And for all we know, on Monday your team will have a fix for your chip and you’ll have your feelings for me turned off—”
I open my mouth to interject but she holds up the palm of her hand to my face.
“Shush up, Casanova. You know just as well as I do that you will at least consider getting it fixed. Anyways, come Monday, this thing between us could all go away. So why not enjoy the two days together, no strings attached and see where it goes? And if it’s all over, at least we’ll have the memories, right?”
“My desire for you is not a ‘thing’,” I argue. “It’s a force all its own. What of the consequences?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it,” she says.
“And what does that mean?”
“We will wait to consider the problems until those problems arise.”
“Humans wonder why it is they are seen as lazy and incompetent by other alien species, and then they have such phrases as these. And another thing. Everything is confusing and unclear. Attaching strings? Crossing bridges?”
“Here’s the simple question,” she says with a smirk. “Yes or no?”
That smug look on her face tells me she already knows. She knows full well that I can never say no to her now.
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Chapter 13
Ella
I cancel on the weekly girls’ night out and decide to take Kila on a classic Earth-style date—the movies.
In honor of his sly little nickname for me, I come up with the brilliant plan to see the newest James Bond film. We make our way down to the old theater at the center of town. Kila quizzes me on every detail we pass by. I try to tell him anything I think might be interesting. Piney was a small town once, with one Main Street shopping area surrounded by quiet suburban streets. Now that the Alliance research facility has been plopped just a ten-minute drive from town, the place has blossomed into a wa
Of course, there are those that don’t look at it so positively.