Page 6 of Summer

Aaoric’s future is a hotly contested topic amongst our family. It is one of the few places he dares to openly defy Mother and Father. It started when he was eighteen, ready to join the social circles. At sixteen I was just behind him, and I wasn’t aware of what he’d done to sabotage his own future until two years later.

Aaoric has a reputation amongst the women for being evasive, even cruel. This surprised me when I discovered it – I’d only known Aaoric as the kind, though somewhat temperamental, older brother. To know that he showed up late to dates, if he bothered to show up at all, and then refused to speak or engage with the females is appalling. The more he fought, the harder our parents pressed, until there were no more eligible females left.

We thought they’d finally come to accept that Aaoric had no intention of marrying one of the females they’d picked from high society. Aaoric is not so stupid as to think he’ll get what he wants, that he’ll be allowed to marry whomever he chooses.

But neither of us could have anticipated this.

“Father,” I chance, hoping he’d see reason. “Is this really the best place to find a bride for Aaoric? I’ve heard…awful tales about the women here.” It isn’t a lie – Protegre is known through the universe, and not always in the best of ways. Most human women are there by force, as punishment for a crime. They are rehabilitated and sold to recoup the cost of training them. Others are there willingly, because they have nowhere else to go. It is shocking to think an abandoned orphan could make her way to this planet and be sold off willingly.

“It will match the awful tales that are told about your brother,” Mother counters. “It’s a match befitting of his reputation.”

Aaoric stands rooted to the spot, his eyes wide as he stares at the building.

“No,” he whispers. I flinch, both at the thought of the punishment he’ll receive for saying so, and at the hurt in his voice. “No,” he repeats, louder this time. He takes a step back, distancing himself from us.

“Run all you want, child,” Father scoffs, turning back to the building. “You don’t need to be here, unless you want a say in your bride.”

“Father…” I try again. “Think of what the town will say.” I ty to sound scandalized instead of terrified for my brother. I look to Mother, trying to get her to understand. To stop him. The look on her face tells me it is no use. They’d spoken about this, they’d decided. Aaoric has no choice.

“They will be happy that your brother is no longer a scourge and now a married male. It will affirm our status and wealth, and ensure our family has heirs. Your brother has had years to pick his own bride and has proven himself incapable. We had no choice but to step in,” Father says. His words sound conciliatory, but the smile on his face shows his true joy. He’s trapped my brother again, forced him into a box he doesn’t want to be in.

I’m not sure how he could fight his way out.

Aaoric doesn’t hear the last of Father’s words. He turns on his heels and marches away, shoving through the crowd. Probably off to the gentlemen’s club, or maybe to get drunk and lost in an alley. He knows the way home; he doesn’t need our fancy ship to get there.

Father and Mother link arms and press through the doors into the box for the human woman auction. I toss a look over my shoulder, but Aaoric is long gone. Even if I knew where he went, I wouldn’t be allowed to go. Instead, I turn and follow my parents into the building.

Here there is no remote box – the seats are close to the stage. This is not a place for the poor or even the upper middle class to be. This is reserved for the richest of our society. There is a ramp that leads onto the stage, where prospective buyers can approach the women and look them over.

I’d heard tales of these sales. Nothing could have prepared me for the spectacle of it.

Behind the stage sits a row of human women, each wearing identical dresses. Their hair is pulled back into the same stylish look. Each of them wears a placid smile on their face, their eyes vacant. This is what my brother is supposed to marry? Not someone he loves or cares for, but a robot selected by our parents.

Rage simmers deep in my chest, and I have to swallow to keep my face neutral. Mother watches me carefully, waiting for the crack. Waiting for the excuse to reprimand me.

I’ll let her believe I am just as tame as these women, beaten into something befitting of their child.

Father takes a seat near the front row, grasping a brochure that is handed to him by an attendant. I sit on the opposite side of him as Mother, trying to cool my temper. My fingernails dig into my palms, and I curl and uncurl my toes. My vision clears as the first woman is led on stage.

She’s a waifish thing, her wide eyes trained on the ground in front of her. Next to her stands a Kapu. One of his hands curls around her arm, the barbs along his fingers barely pressing on her skin. I can see the threat in it, even if the woman appears undisturbed by it. Two of his other hands are clasped in front of him.

“This human woman is named Kayleigh!” he says, his antennae rubbing together quickly. The woman isn’t wearing a translation device. Unless they embedded it in her somewhere, she has no idea what’s being said. Most humans are unfamiliar with any alien language, and I doubt they taught her any at the school.

Can they even read? Write? What will she have to talk about with my brother, who loves poetry? What about the opera? Will she sit just as stock still as this woman does, a weapon pressed to her skin, and smile serenely?

My rage rises again, and I need to get up. I need to move. I need to do something.

“Excuse me,” I say to my parents, rising to leave. Mother makes a small noise that freezes me in my retreat.

“Where are you going?” she asks. Her eyes narrow on me, cutting to my core. She knows my anger; I only hope she cannot see it.

I chance a look around and lower my voice. “It would be improper for me to say aloud,” I tell her. She frowns but allows me to head to the washroom. Her eyes burn a hole in my back with every step I take.

I cannot be gone too long, but a few moments away is what I need to collect myself. There must be another way – there is always another way. My mind is blank, but I was blindsided. With a good night’s rest and some investigation, surely I can find a way out for him. I’ll just need time to read the contract of her sale, to know what my father got my brother into. Surely, they cannot force him to marry?

I am not so naive; I know they can.

When I finally emerge from the washroom, my parents are no longer seated. They are standing alongside the stage, beaming.