Chapter 8

Venus

As I finished unpacking my far-too-few bags, I mentally made an inventory of all the things I needed for an extended stay here. Unfortunately, as much as I loved shopping, observing the crowd that lined the streets as we paraded our way here told me they likely didn't offer the type of outfits I needed.

Nobody wore any kind of top or shirt, not even the females. A few people had sashes, necklaces, braces, and arm bands, but that pretty much summed it up. Although their females appeared to have a smaller version of a human woman's breasts, the fur around their necks and chest did a good job hiding the nipples.

I had no problem letting it all hang out when relaxing on certain beaches or while visiting tribal species where females walked around bare chested. But I couldn't see myself emulating that here. In those other places, it helped me blend with the locals. Here, it would make me stand out more than actually wearing a shirt. The powerful sun also would do a number on my skin, which reminded me to add loads of solar cream to the list I would send to Linsea.

Dealing with these practical issues was merely a way for me to delay having to fully acknowledge the mess I had just landed in. While on the cruise ship, I contacted my parents to let them know what had happened. Right this minute, they would be freaking out over not having received an update. By now, I should be on my way back home. Saying they would go berserk once they found out the truth couldn't even begin to describe the shitstorm they would unleash. That definitely was one discussion I wasn't looking forward to.

They probably already know.

In fact, I was pretty certain they did. They undoubtedly harassed the Enforcers and the UPO all freaking day.

Fuck my life…

And wait until they hear about Atlas.

My stomach twisted painfully at that thought. How could he possibly be my soulmate? Since Kayog mentioned it before leaving, his words replayed in a loop in my head. A part of me wanted to believe he was just fucking with me since I'd been somewhat rude when he first got here. He knew I dreaded that he would attempt to matchmake me with a primitive alien. Considering what a mischievous personality he possessed, it would make sense for him to pull some type of prank.

He wouldn't joke about this.

And that was the crux of it. However playful the Temern could be, he took his role and reputation extremely seriously. When it came to finding the perfect match, Kayog was never wrong. He wouldn't tarnish his perfect streak just to pull a prank on me. Even had it been a joke, I believe he would have set the record straight within seconds.

I didn't know how to feel about any of it. A part of me wanted to feel excited about this. Finding one's soulmate was something to be celebrated. From what little I had observed about Atlas, he seemed like a good man.

Although some of his insectoid features creeped me out a little bit, he was rather hot. His lips looked particularly delicious. The gentle way he smiled at me felt like being wrapped in a freshly washed blanket, still warm from the dryer. There was an air of innocence and timidity that made me want to hug him. Simultaneously, an undeniable—and rather sexy—aura of authority and strength emanated from him. He was a lot more lithe than I preferred when it came to men, as I had a thing for big and brawny. But his well-defined muscles and firm body certainly qualified as droolworthy.

But I don't really want this.

That thought gave me pause. What exactly did I not want? Was my issue with Atlas himself? The prospect of marrying an alien? Or was it the fact that I might end up spending the rest of my life with this primitive species?

The strength with which that little voice at the back of my head screamed the latter actually sent an odd sense of relief flooding through me. Although I'd never pictured myself marrying anything but a human, seeing Serena's happiness proved that so long as you were with the person meant for you, the rest would fall into place. But I seriously didn't like what I had seen so far of the Prometheans.

Humanity went through similar phases. Based on our history, the Prometheans would require generations for their society to evolve to a place where everyone would be treated equally. Technologically speaking, they were centuries behind. From what I observed so far, their advancement compared to Earth circa year 2000. But socially and politically, it felt like they were barely coming out of the Victorian era.

Assuming things evolved the way Kayog implied they would, I couldn't see myself living on this planet permanently. Thankfully, this wasn't my focus for now. The upcoming weeks would provide ample opportunity for Atlas and me to figure out what—if anything—we wanted to do about this.

Did Kayog tell Atlas?

The almost instant panic I felt at that thought faded as quickly as it poked its head in. I highly doubted the Temern told him anything. Had he done so, I firmly believed that Atlas would have given it away in one form or another. For now, I intended to keep it to myself. A part of me wished Kayog had not told me. Then whatever blossomed between us would have occurred organically.

Or would it?

To my utter annoyance, I was forced to admit that, had he not warned me, I probably would have distanced myself from Atlas and erected defensive walls between us at the first sign of attraction. And then, I would have missed out on being with my soulmate.

That last thought made me flinch. I hated that my mind already accepted this as fact and was planning for us to be a long-term couple.

Heaving a sigh, I quickly freshened up in my en suite hygiene room, then exited my bedroom, and followed the hushed sounds of voices near the entrance. As I quietly approached, I noticed Atlas talking with one of his Black Guards, named Pythus, if I recalled correctly.

I walked slowly, giving myself a bit more time to secretly examine Atlas. He was indeed quite attractive, once you got over the otherworldliness of his features. I itched to touch his massive black wings. A thick horizontal stripe connected the silver eyespots adorning them. When the sun hit them just right, they almost sparkled like glitter. My fingers also ached to trace the pattern to feel their texture.

There was something noble in the way he stood straight, chin slightly lifted with an air of authority devoid of the slimy superiority displayed by the Chancellor. The deference displayed earlier by his men—and now by the one I presumed to be Pythus—spoke volumes about the type of leader he was. You couldn't buy or force the genuine respect they expressed towards him.

Not wanting to intrude on their conversation, as soon as I entered the living area, I made to head towards the kitchen, but both males turned to look at me. Atlas's warm smile did funny things to me. He gestured for me to approach, and I immediately complied.

"Venus, please meet Pythus, one of my senior officers and right hand," Atlas said, gesturing at his companion. "Pythus, this is Prima Venus."

For the most irrational reason, I felt somewhat slighted that he introduced me simply as the Prima and not his mate. But then, I never claimed that a woman's emotional responses always made sense, especially where their alleged soulmates were concerned. Furthermore, as he witnessed the entire mess that went down in their greeting hall earlier, Pythus already knew we were contractually married.

Pythus pressed his palm to his chest, fingers splayed over his solar plexus, right below the tip of his chest fur, then bowed his head.

"It is an honor to meet you, Prima," he said with great deference.

"The pleasure is mine, Pythus. But please, call me Venus," I replied with a smile.

He seemed taken aback by that request and gaped at me before casting an uncertain glance at his boss. Atlas was looking at me with an indefinable expression, but behind the softness in his eyes, I could swear I'd caught a glimmer of gratitude.

"You honor me… Venus," Pythus said at last, his scales slightly darkening when he pronounced my name.

It struck me then that he expected me to have a haughty behavior with him. I clamped down on the anger that instantly flared deep within. I hated that he—and others like him—had grown to expect to be mistreated and disrespected.

"When I'm not here, either Pythus or Leodros will be nearby to assist you should you require it," Atlas explained.

He then handed me a small device—antiquated by today's galactic standards—which I instantly recognized as some form of com system. I took it before glancing back at him questioningly.

"This is a caller Pythus set up for you. It will allow you to contact one of us if you are ever in need. I will explain its full function to you later today," he continued.

"Okay, thank you," I replied to Atlas before casting a grateful smile at Pythus.

The shyness on his face, and the way he shifted on his feet made me realize he was battling the urge to squirm. Fuck, it was stinking adorable. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from smiling.

"If there is nothing else, I will leave you now and return to my other duties," Pythus said, looking a little embarrassed.

"Thank you," Atlas replied. "We'll speak later."

After one last nod, Pythus left the house, looking like he was trying not to run away.

"He seems nice," I said when the door closed behind him.

"He is," Atlas concurred with conviction. "Pythus is a wonderful Guard and a good friend."

He appeared to want to say something more but changed his mind. This instantly piqued my curiosity, but I decided not to press him. He scratched his chest fur, right below his clavicle, and almost looked nervous, as if he didn't quite know what to say or do.

"Are you hungry? The caterer brought the sampler platter I requested so that you can test our food and see if there's anything you like."

"As a matter of fact, I'm quite hungry!" I said enthusiastically.

The broad smile that stretched his lips lit up his entire face. Damn, he was so incredibly handsome when he was happy.

"This way," he said, gesturing towards the kitchen.

We entered a spacious room that could have belonged on Earth. The Promethean architecture vaguely reminded me of a mix of elven design and Moroccan plaster on the decorated walls and soft edges of the furniture. Surprisingly, the long island of the gourmet kitchen didn't have any stools for people to sit at. Instead, they surrounded the long dining table on the left side of the dining space, next to tall patio doors that looked out onto the second courtyard of the mansion.

If not for the intricate carvings on the walls, the place would feel a little depressing and excessively sanitized with the white everywhere, from the off-white travertine-looking tiles on the floor, the ivory walls, and the just as pale furniture. The only splash of color, if it could even qualify as such, were the silver accents of the cushion and outlining some of the edges of the carvings on the walls.

He pointed at one of the comfortable-looking rectangular stools surrounding the table. The embroidery work on the cushion was spectacular.

"I guess you guys don't have chairs with backs," I mused aloud, as I settled on a stool on the left side of the table.

Obviously, it made sense for them not to have backrests as they would get in the way of their wings.

"No," Atlas said while bringing a few large trays of food to the table. "I will fix that for you. Just let me know what they should look like, and I will take care of it."

"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. This is fine, and it will force me to work on my posture," I said with a smile.

He frowned. "Are you certain? It is no trouble. You will be with us for a while. There's no reason you shouldn't have all the comforts you require when you need it."

"I'm sure," I reiterated. "If I change my mind, I'll let you know."

Although he nodded, the look on his face made it clear he wasn't convinced. With a certainty I couldn't explain, I believed he would try to get me a chair with a backrest regardless. It would indeed be smart to have one handy should I ever feel the urge for it. I didn't understand why I argued when he offered. Considering how Serena often called me a diva—which wasn't entirely false—I couldn't explain why I was acting so low maintenance all of a sudden.

Because you want him to like you.

That struck me hard. Could that be it? I'd never been the type to try and change myself to please a man. It made no sense that I would start doing that now, soulmate or not. In fact, if he truly was my soulmate, he would be entirely fine with my high maintenance self.

But the sight of the appetizing dishes he laid before me shifted my focus away. The delicious aroma of light spices wafted to me as I feasted my eyes on what could have almost passed for traditional Chinese cuisine, at least in appearance. My gaze flicked to roundish, stuffed dough that looked steamed. As a huge sucker for dumplings, my mouth immediately watered. I could only pray I wouldn't be traumatized by the taste of the stuffing because of unrealistic expectations.

Various sauteed and steamed vegetables, some of them mixed with meat—or at least what I assumed to be meat—sat next to bowls of roasted, barbecued, or braised meats. Another dish that drew my attention was some kind of whitish grain. From where I sat, I first thought it to be white rice, before realizing the grains were too short for that. It could have passed for cauliflower rice.

As soon as Atlas settled across the table from me, he gestured for me to dig in. I did not hesitate. Without being a health freak, I generally ate in a responsible fashion—which didn't prevent me from indulging in the occasional deep-fried decadence and sinfully sweet desserts. But this healthy and tasty food fully met my approval.

Granted, despite enjoying fancy restaurants, I wasn't a picky eater. Over the years working as an intergalactic lobbyist, I traveled to strange places and eaten even weirder stuff. I still struggled with anything that had a slimy texture or appearance. But I had eaten my fair share of bugs. Thankfully, they'd either been so transformed that you didn't recognize them for what they were, or they'd been buried deep enough in other things so that I wouldn't notice.

As we enjoyed the meal, we settled into a pleasant conversation, mostly with me inquiring about him and his species.

"Your wings look a lot thinner than the feathery ones Kayog and Linsea have," I said pensively. "Are they heavy?"

He shook his head, then paused as if reconsidering his answer. "In practice, no they're not. But technically, I would probably have to say yes. As we're born with our wings, our back muscles develop accordingly through regular use. However, if someone was unable to work those muscles for an extended period, they would struggle with them. That said, they get really heavy once they're wet."

I tilted my head with curiosity. "So flying in the rain is bad?"

He nodded. "It can be dangerous if the rain is heavy. It's definitely quite exhausting. So we'll normally look for shelter or fly under the canopy of a forest to avoid our wings getting weighed down."

I glanced at his wings. They were folded down behind him almost like a cape or the train of a wedding gown.

"How about when you sleep? Do they get in the way? Can they get damaged if you sleep on top of them?"

He chuckled. The way his eyes briefly went out of focus hinted that he had pictured something he found amusing or reminisced about a past incident.

"We can definitely sleep on them, but it can be really uncomfortable if they are folded as they create a bump beneath us. It also tends to cut off circulation in the veins. The tingling sensation when we finally move and blood rushes back in is quite unpleasant."

"Ugh, I know exactly what you mean. That pins and needles sensation sucks, but I usually get it in my hands or in my feet," I replied.

He smiled with compassion. Once again, I couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked when he did.

"Personally, I tend to sleep on the side with my wings folded behind me. I think it stems from my training. When sleeping outdoors, it is easier to use them as blankets to keep me warm that way."

He no sooner spoke those words than I found myself trying to picture what he looked like asleep. To my dismay, the picture of him in a fetal position was quickly replaced by one where he and I were spooning, with his wings wrapped around us. I quickly cast it out of my mind and changed the topic.

"This food is excellent. I could get used to this," I said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "I also love good food, but I'm sadly not much of a cook."

Oblivious to the discomfort stirred by my wandering thoughts, Atlas beamed at me.

"I'm happy to hear you like it. I'm actually a good cook, although I rarely get to do it."

"Oh? Why is that?" I asked.

"I live in the barracks. As such, I normally eat with the Black Guards in the mess hall. We have dedicated cooks who prepare the meals for everyone."

"I see," I said before chewing my bottom lip while carefully choosing my words. "Is it compulsory for Black Guards to live in the barracks?"

He smiled, instantly understanding the real underlying question. "I'm not forced to live in the barracks. It is a choice we all naturally make. There is no point for us to acquire a house without a mate or offspring."

"You're still young," I argued.

He slightly frowned at me. "As you saw earlier, Achromatics like me do not marry. What happened today is a serious anomaly. The only reason it was allowed was because the Prism himself confirmed that I should be your mate. Otherwise, we don't marry, and we don't have children."

"But that other senator confirmed that the law does not forbid it," I countered gently.

He nodded. "You are correct. But the backlash would be too great. You saw how upset many people were today. It would be a thousand times worse without the Prism involved to grant his blessing. But even if one of us decided to face the people's wrath, it would be cruel to doom our offspring to the same harsh life that we have."

It was my turn to frown. "As I have not studied Promethean genetics, I will not make any assumptions. However, for the majority of species, that is not how genetics works. The fact that you are an Achromatic doesn't necessarily mean that your children would be as well. Genetics are a lottery. You're never quite sure which traits from each parent you will inherit. In theory, Achromatics should be able to have Polychromatic children."

He nodded slowly. "Some of our scientists have expressed this as well. Their data also supports this, but mentalities are very slow to change. And without tangible proof, not just theories, people are even more reluctant to accept it. And none of us want to be the ones breaking the rules to provide that proof. The fallout would be too severe."

"So that means your parents were not Achromatic, correct?"

"Correct," he conceded. "Both of them are Polychromatics… as are my siblings."

"You have siblings?!" I exclaimed, surprised.

His face slightly closed off. "I'm the third child, with an older brother and sister. I don't know if my parents had more offspring after me. Somehow, I doubt they did."

"So you don't have any contact with your family?" I asked softly, wondering if I should move away from that topic in case it was still sore for him.

"None whatsoever," he replied, matter-of-factly before smiling. "It is normal here for parents to keep their Achromatic or Monochromatic offspring a secret. If we mingled, both my parents and siblings would be shamed by association. Worse still, it would significantly reduce the mating prospects of my siblings as potential partners would fear they would also produce one of us."

Judging by Atlas's expression, my face was loudly broadcasting the anger his statement awakened in me. A billion words burned my tongue. I wanted to tell him it was pure bullshit that anyone could imply an innocent child would be a shameful secret merely for the color of its wings. I wanted to tell him just how fucked up his society was. And it most certainly was. But I also knew that the type of radical changes his people needed wouldn't occur overnight with me making grand speeches about how they had it all wrong.

I also needed to tread carefully so as to not alienate him either. Although he was a victim of it all, Atlas was likely too deeply brainwashed for me to go all in challenging their culture. I could only pray my presence here, however short, would help stir them further onto the path of acceptance and mutual respect.

"How young were you when you last saw your parents and siblings?" I asked gently, relieved that my voice didn't contain any of the fury I felt deep within.

"A few minutes old," he replied teasingly. He chuckled when I gaped at him. "Achromatics and Monochromatics are left by their parents at the Birthing Hall with the caretakers, who then send us to the Asylum."

"To the what?!" I exclaimed—not to say shouted—completely flabbergasted.

My reaction clearly took him aback. "Infants like me are taken to the asylum to be raised by others like us," he said cautiously.

"Define asylum for me," I said, my voice filled with tension.

"It is a shelter where the children are taken care of, fed, and educated in the various trades that will make them functional members of the society."

"So like an orphanage where they are raised and looked after?" I insisted, to be certain.

"Yes," Atlas answered, still looking confused. "Why did you react so strongly?"

I scrunched my face and shifted in my seat. "The word asylum triggered me. Although it also has the meaning of shelter and safe haven, we usually use that term to refer to the places where we lock up people with serious mental illness, the type that might hurt themselves or others," I explained sheepishly.

Atlas gaped at me for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. My cheeks heated that I should have automatically jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

"It definitely is not that type of asylum," Atlas said, still chuckling. "For what it's worth they are wonderful places. The Elders who run the asylums are themselves Achromatic or Monochromatic, as are all the children. It is the safest place for us, growing up surrounded by others like us facing the same challenges we do. My time in the asylum was probably the happiest years of my life."

I gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm glad those children have a safe and happy place to grow up. It's just unfortunate that they should be separated from their families over such misconceptions. Humans used to think less of each other based on color, country of origin, religion, language, and even gender. It took us centuries to finally realize we're all the same."

"Humans may be the same, but we're not," Atlas argued.

"You are the same, just with different talents. In the case of the Prometheans, your abilities are largely based on the color of your wings. But that doesn't make you lesser than someone else. Each of you have your own value and purpose"

To my surprise, Atlas seemed displeased by my words. "You're making a lot of assumptions, Venus. You do not know us."

"You're right," I replied in an appeasing tone. "I don't know much about the Prometheans, but I know a lot about science. And I want to figure out what is causing… Torag?"

"Thaudras," he corrected. "You've heard of it?"

"Only what Linsea told me in the meeting room once the Prism decided he wanted me to stay," I said. "Is it true that people like you are sacrificed when Thaudras occurs?"

Atlas shifted his wings, an uneasy expression fleeting over his features. "Yes, sacrifices are required to end it."

Although I knew what his answer would be, my stomach nevertheless twisted to have it thus confirmed.

"Will you get sacrificed?" I asked carefully.

"Of course," he replied, matter-of-factly. "All Blacks and Whites are sacrificed first, and then the Monochromatics.

I slightly recoiled upon hearing those words. "Why are Blacks and Whites the first?" I asked, stunned.

"Because we appease the gods the most," he replied in a soft voice. "Without at least five Blacks and five Whites, the region affected by Thaudras will sustain massive devastation. Ideally, there should be ten of each."

That struck me as a vital piece of information.

"And what if only Monochromatics are sacrificed, no Blacks and no Whites at all?" I insisted.

"Then there will inevitably be massive devastation on a larger radius."

Which could only mean that the Blacks and Whites possessed a special trait required to help counter the magnetic surge. But what? This constituted the first lead I could follow to try and figure out what was happening.

"So how many people in total are sacrificed each time Thaudras occurs? You mentioned ten of each Blacks and Whites, for a total of twenty?" I asked.

He nodded. "And about another twenty Monochromatics usually suffices. However, each Black or White missing requires between five and ten Monochromatics in replacement."

"Ten Monos to replace a single Black or White?!" I exclaimed.

He nodded again. That, more than anything else, proved that the Blacks and Whites possessed a unique trait that was essential to containing the anomaly.

"So at least forty people are expected to be sacrificed in a few months," I mused aloud.

"Hmm, no, not exactly," Atlas said hesitantly. "That number would be accurate on average, but the impending Thaudras will be massive. The magnetic movements we have detected indicate it will be two to three times more devastating than any previous ones. We expect that at least one hundred and twenty of us will need to be sacrificed."

"Are you serious?!" I exclaimed.

He gave me a resigned smile.

"I'm not going to let you die, Atlas," I said in a tone that brooked no argument.

To my shock, his face instantly hardened. "It is my duty and that of every other Achromatic. Our sacrifice means the survival of our world and of our people. It is a death we go to willingly."

"Are you saying you want to die?!" I exclaimed, flabbergasted.

He hesitated then shook his head. "I do not wish to die, but I accept that I must for the greater good. There is no other way to save our world."

"What makes you so sure?" I asked, baffled.

He pushed back his empty plate and scratched the fur below his clavicle while his face took on a faraway expression.

"History makes me sure. Every three or four generations, the next Thaudras is announced by a sudden increase in births of Achromatic and Monochromatic children. By the time they reach between thirty and thirty-five years, Thaudras occurs." He refocused on me." Our people thought the gods wanted to erase the stain that we were with this cataclysm. So they figured that if they preemptively hunted us, they could prevent it from occurring altogether."

I pressed a palm to my chest, horrified by my sudden understanding. "They killed all the Achromatics and Monochromatics?!"

He nodded with a grim expression. "All of them were killed at birth. But Thaudras still came. Except this time, there were none of us to be sacrificed. The burning light spread through Orist Valley, destroying the land, filling the air with toxic fumes, and poisoning the water."

"Oh, my God! It must have been terrifying."

"According to our history books, it was like the end days were upon them. In despair, the people asked for volunteers among the Bichromatics and Polychromatics. The Elders and the sick were first to be sacrificed."

"I guess that didn't help?"

"Not even in the slightest. They then sacrificed the young and healthy people. That also didn't help. When the devastation continued to spread and began threatening other cities, the people decided to track down the Pharoms."

"What are the Pharoms?" I asked, morbidly fascinated by his tale.

"They are the Monos and Achros who have left the cities and live in secret villages and clans," Atlas explained. "They were hunted down like animals and then sacrificed against their will. By all accounts, it was horrible for everyone involved. But it did end Thaudras. Some people claim it was the existence of the Pharoms that caused Thaudras. But our scientists argued that they were not at fault and that the cataclysm was simply inevitable."

"The scientist in me agrees with that assessment, even though I still have much to learn about this entire phenomenon," I said carefully.

As much as my heart broke for those poor Pharoms, and as horrified as I felt by it all, it didn't truly shock me. Human history also had similar atrocities fueled by ignorance and bigotry.

"In the end, the population agreed that it was too risky not to have Achros and Monos in their midst. Therefore, they passed new edicts outlawing our executions at birth."

While this had been the right decision, it didn't dampen the fresh wave of anger that surged within me. They weren't forbidding the murder of these innocent children because they understood the error of their ways. They just wanted to keep them around as handy sacrificial lambs the minute things got heated.

"I would like to study this Thaudras phenomenon," I said cautiously. "I have some theories that could help solve the mystery as to why all of this is happening. Hopefully, we can stop it."

"Venus, sacrifices are inevitable," Atlas warned, his tone making it clear he thought I wanted to embark on a pointless crusade.

"Based on what you've just told me, it sounds like you indeed absolutely have to go in there. I just intend to find a way to make sure you come back out alive."