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“Breeding competition?” another woman screeches. “No fucking way! You guys are having a competition to get us pregnant?”
Flor shakes her head. “What? No! No one’s doing that—”
“I am doing that,” Skarr replies. “My mate has been chosen by my khui. All that is left is to best her in a fierce battle and give her my son.”
I can feel people staring at me. I can also feel my mouth drawing into an expression of pure, abject horror. “That is not happening,” I say in a small voice, and when it doesn’t properly convey my anger, I say it again, louder. “That isnot happening!”
“I’rec, handle this,” Flor says. “I need to check Kyth out and I can’t right now.”
I’rec grabs Skarr by the collar and drags him away from camp, no doubt for a nice “talk.” That is one way of handling it, though I suppose it’s too much to ask that he comes back wearing Skarr as a pair of boots. I breathe a sigh of relief as they leave, but everyone else is still watching me, waiting to see what I’ll do.
I do what I always do. I duck my head and escape. I head for the tent, where I decide I’ll hide out until it’s time to break it down.
* * *
The day doesn’t go as planned.Kyth is given another khui from a small rabbit-like thing, but it dies before lunch, making Flor fret. One of the tents falls over, and I help fix it up again, because Isadora and Natalie have no idea what they’re doing, and I…do? Sort of? Vague memories rush through my mind as I pull the tent together and drive stakes into the frozen ground while they watch.
“Shouldn’t you angle those?” Natalie asks me.
I shake my head. “Straight is better.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to be angled,” she replies. But she doesn’t pick up a rock to hammer them in, so she’s clearly not confident in her answer.
“What if we’re replicants, you guys?” Gabriella is saying nearby. She’s scraping furs, learning how under Flor’s tutelage. “Like inBlade Runner? They only lived for four years. What if we fall apart after four years? Because the clone pieces stop working?”
“Will you quit scaring us?” Isadora says. “We have enough to worry about.”
“I’m just saying!” She puts her hands in the air.
My insides clench with fear. What if she’s right? What if we’re discards? What if we’re flawed in some way? Is that why they ditched us? Because we’re a shitty batch of clones and we got thrown into the galactic trash?
But the conversation draws both Natalie and Isadora away. I finish hammering the stakes in and make sure the tent is taut and won’t fall over. Yasmin is there scraping furs, too, and I wonder if I should learn how to do that. Nothing in my memories has surfaced about hides or furs, so whatever past I might have had with camping, it didn’t involve skinning.
“How does the whole ‘replicant’ thing work anyhow?” Yasmin asks.
“The movie was kinda vague. Just that they were people created to do human jobs and they only lived four years and didn’t have proper emotions.” Gabriella shrugs. “But some of the replicants had emotions anyhow. Maybe that’s why we’re on this planet. Someone created us all fresh and new and realized we had emotions and just like, tossed us down here like scraps.”
I pause, running my hand over the edge of the tent, because that does sound possible.
“Wait, they made us? Fresh and new?” Yasmin looks as if she’s just now figuring out the implications of this. “Are you saying I might be a virgin?”
I look down at my hand, where the tattoo should have been, and my skin is pristine.
“I would be happy to help you with that,” Skarr says, walking up.
My jaw drops and I look up to see the lizard-alien staring down Yasmin with a challenging look.
What the fuck? This guy gets worse by the day.
“Okay now,” Flor says. “Women are allowed to discuss sex without men propositioning them, all right?”
“I am not propositioning,” Skarr says. “I am simply letting her know I would be glad to assist with any learning needs.”
“Uh, that’s exactly what a proposition is, my dude,” Colleen retorts. “I’m not sure what planet you’re from.”
“I am not certain either,” Skarr replies, distracted. He turns and gestures in the distance. “And someone is coming.”
I’ve heard enough. I can’t believe that the guy I resonated to—not that I want him!—is already propositioning other women. What an absolute creep. I shake my head to clear it and retreat away from the campfire. I need fresh air.
