Chapter 4

Lise

Idid get my stuff. Some incredibly hot Mitran male—not Dikon, and obviously not the warlord, but an equally muscular example of the Mitran species—brought it over. He carried all my bags with ease. The flycam startled him at first, as it did everyone who encountered it, but he didn’t stay to chat. He was in and out pretty fast, sparing one wary look at Nugget. Apparently, word of my little dude’s daring escapade, and my foolish rescue attempt, had gotten around.

I spent the next hour unpacking and settling in. Unluckily for me, I suffered from compression sickness whenever I space traveled. All I got was a headache—a nasty one, but some people vomited—but it was an annoyance when I had to be “on” and I felt like someone was pounding a hammer against my skull.

Luckily, I had some time to relax. First, obviously, I got Nugget’s litter box, food, and water set up. I’d brought his kitty bed, but he seemed more than happy on my bed. Next, I put my clothes on the shelves and tried to figure out a way to engineer a desk in this very deskless room. It looked like I’d be working on the bed. Wasn’t the first time I had written in a reclined position. I put my tablets and screens on the table beside the bed and debated climbing in, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to bring myself to get out of it once settled beneath the blankets.

I wasn’t planning on doing much work today. A shower would’ve been nice but there wasn’t one in the small washroom. The only things in the bathroom were a toilet and a sink designed like a small fountain, suitable for a quick wash but not to clean the whole body. I wondered if the warlord would remember to send someone to show me around. It was possible, since I was surely the lowest priority on his list.

Someone knocked on my door. I hurried out of the washroom and opened it to see Sara, the short redhead who had spoken to me when I first arrived. She’d said she wanted to pet Nugget when I was settled in. Apparently she felt she had waited long enough. And she’d brought friends. Two other hopeful faces flanked her. The first was a tall woman with thick black curls, and the other one was as petite as Sara and wore her long dark hair in a low ponytail.

Sara carried a large bundle of something, wrapped up in gray cloth.

“Me again.” She grinned, showing off straight white teeth and a dimple in one corner of her cheek. “The warlord sent me, but I would have come anyway. This is Cassi.” She gestured to the woman with the long, straight black hair. “And this is Aisha.”

The tall woman smiled. “We heard you have a cat.”

I laughed and stepped aside to let them in. “I do. And he’s holding court right now.” I gestured to Nugget, who was in his most noble loaf pose on the bed.

Cassi blinked dark eyes up at me. “Welcome to Mitra. You’re here as a reporter, right?”

I shut the door behind them. “A journalist, but yes.”

“Oh, a flycam.” Aisha cocked her head and eyed the hovering sphere, which tried and failed to be discreet in the small space. “Quiet. Must be a new model.”

“You worked with these before?”

Aisha nodded. “I was a media consultant before I came here.” Her tone made it clear it wasn’t a profession she missed.

My immediate instinct was to start asking questions. What brought you here? What happened on Earth to make you sign up for this? Who were you before you came here? Are you happy here? Oh, there were so many questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask them. These women were here to meet me and more so, Nugget.

Sara’s gaze went straight to my cat, who blinked, looking bored. “We brought you this.” She handed me the bundle in her arms. “Just a little welcome gift. You might find some of it helpful as you get adjusted.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, Oh, I won’t be here long enough to adjust, but I took the surprisingly heavy bundle with a thank-you and placed it on the bed, where Sara wanted to go, anyway. I heard a few things clinking inside and looked at them with one raised eyebrow. “Did you bring me a kitchen set?”

Sara chuckled as she sat on the mattress and reached out towards Nugget. “Just a few things to make life easier. These little cabins don’t come with much.”

Inside were two stunning mugs that looked like they’d been hand-carved from wood, but the wood felt like stoneware to the touch. Intricate designs were etched into the surface. I ran my thumb over them, in awe at the beauty. “These are lovely.”

“Aren’t they?” said Sara. “It’s good to have a few dishes of your own, so you don’t have to use the communal ones and for when you want something for here, you know?”

There were also two bowls and two plates, a few utensils, and a small lantern. The gray cloth the whole thing had been wrapped in, was a robe—soft, but thick.

“Shake the lantern and the rocks inside will light up for a while,” Sara explained. “As for your devices, you’ll have to charge them at one of the power hubs. This isn’t a very high-tech Thrail, compared to others, but we love it that way.”

Nugget raised his nose and deigned to sniff her finger. Apparently approving, he shifted his face to the side, instructing her to scratch his cheek.

With a little sound of pleasure, Sara complied. Her fingers sank into his thick fur.

Aisha sat down on the other side of the bed, looking at Nugget fondly, but not touching. “I’m allergic,” she said miserably. “But I love cats. All animals, really.”

“They don’t let you have pets here?”

“None from Earth,” she replied. “Mitra’s strict about not introducing new species that could upend the environment. I get that. We all do. There are animals here that Mitrans domesticate, but not for pets.” She let out a sad chuckle. “One reason I think we miss pets so much because no one’s had any babies yet.”

Cassi’s face fell as she scratched Nugget’s back. “I’m sure that will change. The healer says it takes time for our bodies to adapt to this new planet.”

“Really?” I asked, thinking that sounded fishy. Women at other Thrails were having babies. “Is that the reason?”

“Hard to say,” replied Sara. “Women are getting pregnant in other Thrails,” she said, echoing my thoughts. “Some of us have weird cycles or none at all.” She waved a hand. “You didn’t come here to talk about that though.”

“It’s completely fine.” I shifted closer, suddenly very, very curious. “When did all this start?”

“About three to four months after we arrived.” Sara scratched under Nugget’s chin. He purred louder and leaned into her touch. “We underwent a ton of tests. According to the medics, we’re all healthy. They can’t find anything wrong with us.”

I could hear her unspoken words: but something is. “Do all of you have Mitran…husbands? Mates?”

“Cassi and I do,” replied Sara. “Aisha has a serious suitor.”

Aisha rolled her eyes. “Suitor. What is this—the eighteen hundreds? I’d settle down with him tomorrow, but I don’t want to go through what the others are going through.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m hoping all this stops first.”

“I hope it stops soon, too.” Sara’s brow creased in worry, and she drew her hand away from Nugget, who blinked reproachfully at her. “Some of us aren’t feeling great. Lots of cramps, headaches, fatigue—you know. PMS stuff. But it doesn’t go away.”

I itched to take notes. I always thought better when I could write things down, but these women had probably told me more than they’d planned to. Cassi took over giving Nugget chin scratches. “I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of it. Pal-Adrik has already put in requests for advanced fertility researchers to come and evaluate us.”

“More tests.” Sara grimaced.

“There must be a reason for it,” I said, my mind flipping through possibilities.

“Some women have switched Thrails,” Sara said. “And their problems have stopped.”

“We’re not leaving.” Cassi’s mouth tightened. “Even if it means I’ll never have a baby with Corza. I love him. I’m staying.”

“Sounds like it might be environmental,” I thought aloud.

“Air, food, and water were all tested, too.” Aisha sneezed and got off the bed. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I love cats, even though I’m allergic. Cassi and Sara will show you where the bathhouse and the kitchens are. Don’t worry. You don’t have to cook unless you want to. Mitran males like making food and they are very good cooks.”

That was nice to hear, because I was an atrocious cook. Most nights I grabbed takeout food. There was some relief in knowing that I was expected to eat out here. Still, as I watched Aisha leave and looked at Cassi and Sara, I could feel their uncertainty and worry. They were putting on a good show, but these women were scared. Maybe this would be a bigger story than I thought.