'Thanks for taking some time out for us,' Quinton said. 'I know you want to spend as much of your time together.'
'It's no problem,' Silo said. Silo had reasonable skill with the R86 flight shuttle configuration. The others did not. 'Somebody's got to fly it. Besides, we've got the rest of our lives together.'
Karina smiled up at him. She was standing by his side at the flight controls as they all gazed through the viewing window towards Rictor 5. It was a rather beautiful planet. A bright blue. Prettier than Zibon 8, though much smaller.
'We'll go to quadrant 6 first,' Silo said. 'Them move to 8, 4 and 2.' He looked at Miktar. 'It'll be in the daytime for you but the coordinates you've given me are relatively isolated and there is thick bushland nearby.'
'Whatever you say.'
Drake folded his arms. 'Captain Ream is going to kick our butts for this.'
'Yeah, well, what are you going to do?' Roco said. 'The man will discover the import once he has his own mate.'
'Can you imagine it?' Silo said. 'How could he agree to it?'
'He has no choice. None of us have any choice,' Quinton said. 'He either complies or gets booted back to Zibon 8. No job. No authority.'
'We'll just have to make it quick. No longer than thirty minutes tops per rendezvous,' Silo said.
'Not long.' Roco raked his hand through his short stubbly hair and Quinton saw that it was trembling. I have some serious unfinished business.
'Do you need longer?' Quinton asked him.
Roco's sharp eyes darted to his. 'Maybe.'
'Not recommended,' Silo said. 'If the Rictorians spot us ...'
'What's wrong?'
They were all looking at Roco. He was trembling all over now, his face red, his hands balled into fists. He glanced at Karina. Silo got the message.
'Wait outside, Karina,' Silo told her.
She frowned. 'Why? Say whatever you got to say; you can say it in front of me.' They were all staring at her, waiting quietly. She sighed. 'Fine.' She trudged out of the cockpit, the door snapping shut behind her.
Roco released a breath. 'I'm going back to murder the son of a bitch who hurt her.'And he explained what he meant.
Quinton felt his eyes growing wider and wider. He thought of Myeong and her gentle nature. He thought of his little Aisha and how any man could ever do such a thing. Unexpectedly, he felt himself grow hot. The anger swelled in his chest.
'But how could he do such a thing?' Tor said, aghast. His neck was red and his yellow eyes were blazing.
'The same question I've asked myself countless times.'
'But don't they have laws?' Miktar said. 'Don't they have protection?'
Roco laughed darkly. 'To an extent. But ultimately what happens behind closed doors stays there. So she tells me.'
'The scars ...' Drake mused.
'They really can be animals, can't they?' Quinton said in disgust. 'The men, at least.'
Nobody questioned Roco's intentions. Nobody dared argue against him. None of them would do any less. Quinton imagined himself in his position. He would break the culprit's nose. He would shatter his jaw. He would break his arms and legs until he was crawling, weeping and bloodied upon the floor.
'I wish I could do it,' came Silo's quiet voice. 'You're lucky in that respect, Roco.'
Silo was also glaring at Rictor 5. He suddenly began talking about Karina. His voice was a monotone, hollow and dead. How could it not be? How did the words even escape his lips? By the end, Quinton was shaking. Drake slumped into a seat. Tor leaned against the wall, his face contorted in horror.
'Her-her father?' Roco said in a whisper. 'Her fucking father?'
They all looked towards the door which Karina was standing behind.
'No wonder she was so ...' Miktar shook his head. 'I'm surprised she survived at all.'
Silo's voice was a croak. 'I know.'
'Where is he now?'
'Dead. Lucky for him.' Silo cracked his knuckles.
Quinton didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. Awful images of what could have happened to Aisha flashed in his mind. 'We should take them all.'
'We should take them all,' Tor agreed. 'My girl hasn't been tormented—or tortured—like yours. But they have subdued her. They have restricted her. All to preserve their own egos.'
Miktar looked towards Rictor 5, frowning. 'Who knows how many tragedies are unfolding over there, right now. Ones we could prevent.'
'We're good men. We could do better,' Silo said.
'What a waste,' Roco grumbled. 'Wasted on them.'
'I suddenly don't feel so bad now, about our new mission,' Drake said. 'Whether they know it or not, they'll be better off with us.'
'We'd at least appreciate them,' Tor agreed.
'Love them,' Quinton said.
Silo walked back towards the door. Quinton watched as he pulled the Rictorian into his arms.
Quinton tapped his lip as he gazed at the ever-growing Rictor 5, his own words echoing in his head: We should just take them all.
*
Aisha couldn't sit still. Her knees kept jerking and her heart was fluttering in her chest. To see her mother again ... the tears pricked her eyes. She quickly swiped them away before the others could see. She could feel Quinton echoing her excitement back. He would come down with her for support—and protection. Protection from what, Aisha wasn't sure.
She couldn't wait to tell her about Quinton—and potentially show her Quinton. And her baby. She was going to be a grandmother! Aisha still couldn't believe it. She pressed her hand to her abdomen, wondering if it would be a boy or a girl, wondering how much it mattered.
Aisha studied the other women. Rachel seemed almost as excited as Aisha. Alexis looked thoughtful. Myeong was looking down into her lap, gripping her knees. She seemed frightened. Husband. How had Aisha not even known she was married? She really didn't know anything about these women. These women who would likely become her closest friends.
Rachel started talking about her father and sister. She was Australian, Aisha finally discovered. And a nurse, which explained how little Aisha's physical differences surprised her. She touched her eye, tracing her fingertips over the bumps. A warm feeling grew to a burn in the centre of her chest. She couldn't wait to make a family with Quinton. But in order to make a new one, she'd have to lose another.
Aisha released a shaky breath.
It must have been two hours by the time they landed. Miktar entered to take Rachel first. He was practically glowing as he took her hand.
The women were quiet as they listened to their footsteps fading into the distance. Australia. They were in Australia! On the other side of the planet. She suddenly wanted to speak, feeling strangely nervous. She looked over at the other women but they were consumed by their own thoughts. Myeong was shaking.
'Myeong, are you o-okay?'
The woman looked up. She looked grey and her eyes were sunken in her head. At that moment, the door slid open and Myeong's huge mate stepped inside—Roco. He nodded at Alexis and Aisha before sitting down beside Myeong and pulling her into his lap. He held her tightly as he murmured to her. Aisha looked away, giving them some privacy.
Roco remained for a short time before leaving again. Myeong seemed better, though her cheeks were flushed and she couldn't seem to raise her eyes from her knees, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Rachel and Miktar returned probably no longer than thirty minutes later. Her cheeks were tear-streaked but she was smiling. Miktar looked solemn but pleased as he released her hand and she sat back down next to Aisha.
He left to join the other men and they were soon lifting off again.
'Did it—did it go okay?' Aisha dared.
Rachel nodded, then wiped at her eyes. 'As good as I could have hoped. But I'm going to miss them.' She dropped her head into her hands.
Aisha bit her lip as she tried not to think about the last moments with her mother. As much as she was anxious to see her again, she was anxious to delay the meeting as long as possible. I'll never see her again.
It seemed no time at all before the door opened a second time. Aisha felt a little dazed as she looked up at Quinton. Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord as she stood and took his outstretched hand. She barely registered walking through the ship or down the ramp. She hardly noticed the bite of the cool air as she walked down the empty, familiar street of her home.
It was very late. The crickets were chirping. An owl was hooting. She could hear the distant sound of traffic. The moon was mostly hidden by dark clouds. She took a breath. It was all so "normal" and yet it struck something deep within her. Something emotional and painful. This is my home and I'm leaving it forever. Did they even have crickets on Zibon 8? A moon?
She looked up at Quinton, his blonde hair turned a little silvery in the dull glow of the moon. She tightened her grip on his hand as they approached the building ahead. The lawn was overgrown. The little garden needed weeding. Her mother was usually on top of such things. It made her sad.
Aisha's sandals scraped upon the concrete steps. She took the handle but it was locked.
'Here,' Quinton said. He was holding some kind of metallic disk in his hand. He waved it over the door and there came a click.
Aisha pushed the door open. She stared down the hall, the familiar smells making her stiffen. He skin prickled with goose bumps. She'd only been gone a few weeks and yet it felt like years. So much had happened. She felt so different. Quinton handed her the same disk which now glowed faintly in his hand.
'Wait here,' Aisha told him.
The grandfather clock ticked from the room next door as she made her way down the hall towards her mother's room, using the disk to light her way. She looked up at a picture of them both. Her mother had her arms wrapped around her, grinning. She was ten-years-old there. Now the tears were starting to scratch behind her eyes. She sniffed them away. Behind her, Quinton was standing at the end of the hall patiently, his hands behind his back.
Aisha opened the door. It was quiet. Her mother wasn't large and in the gloom the bed looked empty. She couldn't even hear her breathing.
'Mama?'
No answer.
'Mama?'
She went inside. Finally, there came a stirring, as of a body moving amid the sheets. A figure sat up. Aisha shifted the disk and saw the whites of her mother's eyes. There was a gasp. Aisha winced as her mother switched the lights on.
'Aisha?' She was gripping her blanket to her chest, pale-faced and wide-eyed. Her short dark hair was mussed up on one side. 'Aisha!'
Her mother whipped off the blanket. Aisha burst into tears as she lurched towards her. Then she was in her arms. Her mother was wailing, her fingers digging so deeply into her back Aisha had to bite back a cry. Then she was kissing Aisha all over her face. Her warmth. The smell of her soap. It was all so familiar. It was like a dream.
'Where have you been? Are you hurt?' She pulled away to look at her. Then she began to check her body.
'I'm fine, Mama. I've-I've come to say goodbye.'
'Good-goodbye?'
'Yes. I'm leaving. I-I haven't got much time.'
Her mother was staring. 'What do you mean?'
'I've met a man.' She'd been rehearsing to herself what exactly she'd say to her mother but it wasn't going to plan. The sight of her dark sad eyes and miserable lawn and unkempt bedroom drove her plans away. The next words just popped out. 'I'm going to have a baby.'
'What?'
'I'm-I'm in love. And I've come back to-to tell you I'm safe and h-happy.'
Her mother took a step back. 'You've been with a man. You mean a man kidnapped you.'
Aisha sputtered.
'He's brainwashed you.'
Aisha's tongue tied.
'He's taken advantage of you. My daughter.'
'Why is it s-so hard to b-believe that a-a man m-might love me?'
'Where is he?' she demanded 'Is he outside?' She walked over to the window and ripped open the curtain.
Aisha couldn't answer.
'We need to contact the police.' She went over to her bedside table to pick up her mobile.
Aisha sputtered and gagged on her tongue. She tried to rush over but her feet tied up and she had to grip onto the wall. As her mother placed the phone to her ear, the word finally exploded out of her. 'No!'
Her mother spun towards her.
'No, Mama! Why don't you just listen to me for once!' Her chest felt like it was swelling up. She felt the heat race up her neck. 'I'm happy. I'm making a life for myself and I've come to say goodbye.'
Her mother was staring in disbelief. She was gripping the phone tightly.
'I know you love me. I-I know you only want what's best for me,' Aisha said.
'You cannot go.'
'I will. I must.'
'You're just a girl.'
'I'm a woman!' Her voice rang around the room. Her mother just shook her head as she lifted the phone back to her ear. 'Mama!'
Her mother's eyes widened with terror as she looked up past Aisha.
Aisha turned. She choked on Quinton's name as he laid his hands upon her shoulders, looking utterly alien in her little home. Her mother dropped the phone with a cry.
'Translate for me,' he told Aisha. 'I am sorry for taking your daughter away,' he told her mother directly. 'I know how much you love her. But know that I love her just as much and I will take care of her until the day I die. She will want for nothing. She will know no suffering. And our children will be adored.'
Somehow, Aisha spoke steadily as she translated, though her throat was thick and tears were pricking her eyes. It was Quinton—his presence seemed to give her strength.
Looking like she was going to faint, her mother sat on the edge of the bed.
'I am sorry,' he repeated. 'But she is coming with me.'
Now it was her mother sputtering.
'I'm sorry, Mama,' Aisha said, the tears rolling down her cheeks. 'But I must move on. I l-love you.'
Gently, Quinton guided her out the door.
It was hard to walk. Her knees kept wobbling beneath her as the tears coursed down her cheeks. It did not go well. She hadn't made things worse but she hadn't really made things better either. A sob escaped her. She staggered. Quinton scooped her into his arms.
Aisha peered over her shoulder but the hall was empty.