Robbie had finished nursing. He pulled away from her breast with a soft pop, milk dribbling down his chin, and blinked up at her with those dark, trusting eyes.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Whatever it takes, I will find a way to get us out of here.”
It was a promise she had no idea how to keep. But she would find a way. Somehow.
She settled Robbie against her shoulder and patted his back gently until he burped, a surprisingly loud noise for such a small body. In spite of everything, she smiled.
“Such a good boy.”
She rocked him gently. He fell asleep almost immediately, worn out from crying and feeding, but she couldn’t bring herself to put him down. For a long moment, she just sat there watching himbreathe. In, out. In, out. The steady rhythm of it was the only thing that kept her from falling apart completely.
But eventually she made herself put him down and went to the small sanitation unit to wash away the lingering remnants of the examination. Her muscle ached, her head throbbed, and the places where they’d taken samples stung with a dull, persistent burn. Exhaustion washed over her, but she couldn’t sleep.
She needed to come up with a plan.
Her existence had a predictable routine. Examinations each morning. Meals delivered through a slot in the door at consistent times. The lights dimmed during the sleep cycle. Routines meant patterns. Patterns meant predictability. And predictability meant potential weaknesses.
They think I’m helpless,she thought.Scared. Compliant.
Scared? Yes. But compliant? Never. She had always been stubborn. Pigheaded, her mother used to say. Once she set her heart on something, she didn’t let go. And right now her heart was set on only one thing—finding a way to free herself and her son.
She might not have much, but she had her mind. Her training. Her ability to observe and analyze and wait for the right moment.
And she had Robbie. The tiny, precious reason to keep fighting when everything else felt hopeless.
She’d wanted a child for years. Decades, really, if she was honest with herself. But her career had always come first. Medical school. Residency. Fellowship. Building a practice, then expanding it, then turning it into one of the leading reproductivecenters on the East Coast. There was never a right time, never a suitable partner, never enough stability to justify bringing a new life into her chaotic schedule.
And then, on her thirty-seventh birthday, she’d looked in the mirror and realized she was running out of time. The irony wasn’t lost on her. A fertility specialist who’d waited too long to pursue her own fertility. She could have laughed if it hadn’t felt so painfully predictable.
Artificial insemination had seemed like the obvious choice. She didn’t need a partner. She didn’t even want one, not really, not after the disastrous engagement her family had arranged for her. What she wanted was a family. A child to love and raise and watch grow into their own person.
And now here she was.
Thirty-eight years old, trapped on an alien world, the single mother of a baby boy who might never see Earth’s sky again.
Don’t,she warned herself.Don’t go down that path.
Robbie stirred in his crib, making a small, sleepy sound and pulling her back from the edge of despair. She looked over at him, her heart swelling with that fierce, overwhelming love that still took her by surprise. She’d known motherhood would change her—had counseled countless patients through the emotional upheaval of new parenthood—but knowing it and experiencing it were very different things.
Now nothing in the world mattered more than that tiny human being. For him, she could brave anything.
He settled back into stillness, and she sighed, her eyes closing as another wave of exhaustion swept over her. She was still trying to come up with a plan when it tugged her under.
CHAPTER TWO
The flyer banked hard over the ridge, and Becsul studied the scenery below. The Ciresian wilderness stretched in every direction—an endless expanse of dark forest and jagged stone that had challenged warriors for most of their recorded history. The old training grounds had been built here for exactly that reason. If you could survive the wilderness, you could survive anything.
Except the Red Death.
His jaw tightened at the thought, and he forced his attention back to the controls, guiding the flyer towards the coordinates Councilor Naran had provided. The other male had been characteristically vague about what awaited him—only that it was important, that it was secret, and that he had specifically chosen Becsul.
That last part troubled him more than he wanted to admit.
He had worked in the main reproductive labs for most of his adult life, but as a warrior, not a scientist. His job was to maintain order and discipline, and he was good at his job,even in the face of increasing despair. But there were dozens of officers with more experience, more connections, more political savvy. Why had Councilor Naran chosen him?
The flyer’s sensors chirped, indicating the landing zone ahead. The facility had originally been carved into the mountainside so it was half hidden by the surrounding forest, but it was even more hidden now, invisible to overhead satellites. Someone had gone to considerable trouble to keep this place secret, and a sudden chill ran down his spine.
Easy,he told himself.I don’t even know what this is about yet.
