Page 7 of Summer

“You missed it,” my father says. It’s a rare moment he’s speaking to me, and it catches me off guard. “Quite the bidding for that one, but I think we got a good price.”

My stomach drops as I turn to look at the woman he’s nodded to.

Her long, black hair hangs straight and free, tangling with the breeze. Her face is pale, with an upturned nose and sallow, hollow cheeks. She’s a head shorter than me, thin and gangly. She is pretty, I’ll give them that. She’d be beautiful if she didn’t look so starved.

Her wide brown eyes turn to us, and I swear I see a flash of something – Defiance? Hostility? – before the placid look of a brainless dolt returns. I’m so angry at this whole situation I’m starting to see things.

Get it together.

“Here you are,” says the attendant, holding out his communication device for my father to sign. He scribbles away at the screen. My mother gives the woman a once over, her lips curling in slight disgust.

“We must get her a new wardrobe. She cannot be seen around town in that,” she says.

“It’s the standard uniform,” explains the attendant.

“I’m sure it is,” Mother replies venomously. The human woman tilts her head slightly, her gaze jumping from the floor to my mother. She returns it to the floor just as quickly, the muscles around her mouth twitching.

“Gennelle, share your umbrella with Summer. Not to come with an umbrella at this price…” Mother scoffs and they turn toward the exit, back to the ship.

And I escort my brother’s new bride on the long walk to her final prison.

3

SUMMER

Who am I to be shackled to?

The aliens that walk ahead of me are married – or, at least, I suspect they are. They are not affectionate, though public displays of intimacy are frowned upon by the rich. The male alien opens doors for the female, barely chancing a glance back to us to see if we’re following.

Next to me is a female alien who would be beautiful if she wasn’t sneering at me.

Her red hair is voluminous around her face, creating a halo. Her face is angular, her cheekbones outlined with raised ridges. Her yellow eyes are so intense, it’s like they can see through me.

Am I to wed her? How strange that she wouldn’t be present for the bidding, which was an unintelligible string of alien languages. I’d picked up a lot during my few years at Protegre, mostly from the staff aliens. There were too many languages to grasp, and it was my fault for relying so heavily on my translator. My fingers itched for one now – they were everywhere in the crowd. All around me were rich aliens, dripping with wealth. Surely one wouldn’t miss their translator.

Anything to have some idea of where we were headed.

The map of the universe unfurls in my mind with Gagos in the center. I’d avoided Gagos for most of my life, but I was aware of the planets near it. How far did this family travel to make it here? Were they wealthy enough to afford a private ship with warp travel? I chance a glance at the female alien next to me, who pointedly looks away.

Hopefully I’m not meant to be married to her. Though she’d be easier to leave behind than a friendly alien. I shake my head at the thought – I did not suffer through all those months at Protegre just to accept my fate as someone’s trophy.

So, I appear pleasant. I follow at a considerate distance. I keep my hands clasped, even as they itch to pick the pockets of the aliens pressed too close to me. They all turn to stare as I move through them. Humans are a delicacy across the universe, a rare sight that makes us shit thieves or spies.

To my surprise, a carriage waits for us – gold, ridiculous, large. How hard would it be to hot wire, I wonder? If was left alone, could I commandeer it and be gone?

No – too soon. If I escape on Gagos, I’ll be found immediately. I need to create distance between me and this ridiculous planet and the prison of Protegre.

The attendant is the only alien to offer me a hand onto the carriage. The rest of the aliens clamor onboard, silence settling thickly in the air. The older aliens sit together across from us, the male alien spread to take up most of the bench. Next to me, the female alien shoves herself against the wall, avoiding touching any part of me. There’s a sizable space between us, room for another body even without her cowering.

The male alien mumbles something, causing the female alien next to me to stiffen. When she speaks, her voice is quiet but firm, reminding me of the madames at Protegre. No nonsense, quick to rat you out for not following the rules, somehow both above and below us.

The carriage bypasses the city center, heading into the outskirts. My stomach clenches – what if they live on Gagos? I’d heard stories of some rich merchants that preferred to live on the trade planet. It was one way to keep a close eye on their assets, on their stores. My heart hammers in my chest at the thought. If they live on Gagos, I’ll have to wait until we journey to another planet to escape.

If we ever do.

The female alien gives me a sideways glance, and I swallow my concern. Protegre women are supposed to be obedient and happy to be wed and taken away. Any crack in my shell and evidence to the contrary will give me up. I’ll be returned to Protegre and be labeled as “used goods.” If the punishment doesn’t do me in then whoever I’m resold to will.

The carriage continues, skirting the city until it stops in front of a ship depot. At last, I can breathe again, wiping an errant drop of sweat from my temple.