Chapter 21

Fiona

Two Earth Weeks Later

I sit there in Antroli’s room, staring down at the paper in front of me. Over these last couple of weeks, it’s been hard to sneak in times to look at it and learn the written language of these people. If only I had my hands available to me out in the fields.

It would be so much easier to write and learn if I could continue to draw it out, even if it was just with my fingers in the dirt. Unfortunately, no amount of begging seems to do anything but get me plugged and stuffed with his fingers. Not that it’s a horrible response for me being sassy, but after a while, it does get a little old.

Squinting down at the paper, I compare it to the keyboard and frown. Each letter and symbol have so many variations that it’s difficult to remember it all, much less put them into words I can understand. Other languages haven’t been so difficult.

Perhaps it’s because I have so many of them flying about in my head that it’s even harder to keep this one straight. Or maybe it’s also because nothing about these ‘letters’ seems natural. Alien in all ways. Shaking my head, I look out into the field, watching for any sign of my Owner.

Though it’s only been two weeks, it feels like I’ve been here an eternity. We’ve found our rhythm somehow. It works for us even if it doesn’t completely work for me. Furrowing my brows, I swipe my fingers across the screen, pulling up the alien mainframe.

So much about their system makes sense but doesn’t at the same time. It’s as if I know how to manipulate it, but then find myself wrong. Thankfully, I haven’t seemed to trip off any alarms or things like that. Each time I fool around in their programs, I half expect it.

It’s so bizarre to me that they’re so advanced, and yet have nothing in place to keep people out. I know Master Antroli explained it to me, but it doesn’t mean it makes sense. On Earth, my job as a hacker was perilous. Just one wrong keystroke, and I was done for.

On Icora, I can go in and out with an ease that still makes my gut churn. Perhaps it’s just the adage of old habits die hard. It’s what made my job exhilarating. I knew at every turn it could be my last. Here, the anxiety is different.

No longer is it the government or a client finding out I’m in their system. Now, it’s also getting caught by the Ranchers. Thankfully, none of them seem to come back to the house until the end of day. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be caught unawares.

Master Vrokjan comes back every half day to milk Jessica, but never seems to check in on me. I’m invisible to him. Or is that what he wants me to think? So many thoughts spin in my head, making my heart pound in my chest.

And so, I stay tense until I’m done and out. My mind and body wait for the inevitable that never happens. Not even Master Antroli seems to have any idea that I’ve done something without his knowledge. That, or maybe he’s just too tired to care.

Each night I see him, he looks far more haggard and worse for wear. He doesn’t confide in me, but I know something is wrong. With another sigh, I look out toward the other cows, looking for Jessica, but I don’t see her either. Perhaps she’s like me and can’t tolerate the heat as well as the others?

That’s one good thing about my Scottish heritage—it allows me more time indoors than the others. At first, Master Antroli just had me sitting in the barn, but even that heat was too much. I’m not weak like Jessica. Not even close.

But the heat saps me, makes me feel woozy and lightheaded. Maybe after a bit more time here, I’ll get used to it. That, or after their Medical Rancher finally figures out how to make Jessica better, he’ll turn his attention to me. Either way, the sense of impending doom looms deep within my chest.

I know my time is limited, and yet, there’s still so much I wish to learn. Though I detest having to hide it this way, I do find I’m gathering more and more intel on how their systems work. The numbers begin to make sense to me somehow. Probably because I’m immersing myself in their written language.

Once more, I pick through the keys, my typing a touch faster than it was even last week. Not only do I have access to their financials, but I can also see the cows who had been brought, who have left, and who have stayed. Next to the names are figures and words.

It takes me several agonizing minutes, but I can finally piece out it’s how much their milk sells for and approximate taste. Curious, I go up to my name. Two gallons. It makes sense now that my chest hurts all the time while I’m waiting to be milked.

I wonder if that’s per milking or total through the day. Next time Master Antroli milks me, I’ll have to watch. Unfortunately, when it’s the morning milking, he takes a fair bit. Afterward, the rest travels to the other men. So there’s no good way to tell. At night, though, he takes none of it.

As far as taste goes, I can piece together the letters, but still don’t understand the meaning. I mumble it out loud, letting the translator do its job. Even then, it takes a bit to make sense. Nectar of the Celestials is the best it can do.

Though I feel flattered, it’s not really a taste. Not the same as the others. They have far more generic descriptors like nutty, fruity, honeyed, or caramel. The numbers next to them seem about the same, all ranging from two-hundred and fifty to four hundred. Mine, however, ranges from one thousand to twelve hundred.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he said my milk would sell for a good price. It’s the same as Jessica, only her production is more in the four-gallon range. Poor girl. I hurt for her as I continue to read the descriptors. Same as me—Nectar of the Celestials.

Could it be that it’s their descriptors encouraging the disparity in money? Or are these descriptors given by those buying it? So many questions that I cannot ask. For the most part, Master Antroli seems very outgoing with the information I ask of him.

But I’m sure he’ll get suspicious if I ask him something that specific. He’d certainly want to know where I got the information. Not that I can tell him. Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I look at another set of data off to the side. It continues to scroll and change, resembling the Stock Exchange.

What little bits I can gather, seem to correspond with the different planets he’s mentioned, both in this galaxy and beyond. Since they have additional licensure, they can sell anywhere. Others can only sell on Icora and within the few surrounding planets. Quality control or some such nonsense.

I will never understand it. To me, milk is milk. But who am I to question it? Unfortunately, as I continue to stare, a set of symbols jumps out to me. It’s the first word I made sure to memorize. Earth. Who the fuck is buying our milk on Earth?

Before I can fully process the ramifications, a blur of movement catches my eyes. Master Vrokjan races across the field, his face pinched. Have I really been at this that long? I curse myself for not keeping better track of the suns’ positioning.

Squinting up into the sky, I note the suns hang a bit differently than when he normally comes home. It’s not like him to be late. I swipe my fingers across the screen and sigh in relief as it goes blank. Even though it’s not likely Master Vrokjan will come in to find me at the communication system, I still don’t want to take that chance.

I tiptoe across the room and place my ear against the door. His thunderous steps ring out across the floor as he heads to the opposite stairs. Thank God. I’m still safe. Curling up into a ball on the bed, I continue to study the characters on the paper and make notes, doing my best to keep my mind sharp.

Even when I’m forced out into the field, it gives me something to think about when Jessica is not there or too uncomfortable to hold up her end of the conversation. My gaze drifts about the letters, allowing the symbols to merge in my brain. It lulls me somehow, making me feel warm and comfortable. Or maybe that’s just the lazy urge to sleep and eat grass.

Suddenly, a flurry of noise slams into me, jolting me from the bed. I hide my sheet under a stack of papers in the far bottom drawer and whirl back to face the door, dread dripping through my veins. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones.

But again, nothing happens. No door opening, no Master Antroli storming in, demanding to know what I’m up to. Nothing. The house remains silent as I stand there shaking. Looking out the window, I watch as Master Vrokjan and the Medical Rancher take Jessica away in what looks like a highly modified stretcher.

Slamming my palms against the glass, I watch in dread as my only Earth friend and ally is taken away to God knows where. Tears gather in my eyes as I study her face. Normally, it’s pale, but now it’s flushed red. She’s feverish. I’ll bet every bit of my income on it.

In the silence, I scream out my frustration to the heavens. If only they’d left us on Earth where we belonged. Who knows what alien sickness she contracted? Am I next? Am I going to be sick as well?

I pace about, my pulse pounding in my ears. Time slips by in unknown increments until I’m nearly mad with terror. I want to leave this place, to run away, but where will I go? Where can I run? There’s nowhere for me to hide on Icora.

Hell. I haven’t even traveled far enough in the pasture to know just how far it stretches out. Besides, without the proper equipment on, I’m sure to be punished. I’ve kept myself quiet and unnoticeable, earning Master Antroli’s praise.

But it’s not for lack of wanting to be punished. I wanted him to see me as a good girl, not one to stir up much trouble. That way, he wouldn’t be suspicious of what I do in the room all day. Unfortunately, the side consequence of that is I don’t know what a punishment would even look like.

Again, I pace, needing to break free. Jessica is no longer in my field of vision, and so I am truly alone. I tug on my tail, needing that small bite of pain as I move the enormous plug back and forth to ground me. My, what a deviant I’ve become.

Before, on earth, I’d simply find another way to self-soothe. Here, my options are limited. Fuck. Consequences be damned. Storming over to the door, I stride out into the main hall. No one is around to see me. Where is everyone?

I know most of the Ranchers and Ranch Hands have their hands full with running the farm, but there’s no one? Not one person here? Balling my hands into fists, I tilt my head up and scream to the heavens.

The sound rings about my ears, bouncing off of the rafters. In that moment, it sounds as if a chorus of us scream together, blending into one sound of immense sorrow. In that moment, I feel less alone. Dropping to my knees, I allow the tears I’ve held back these few weeks to fall hot on my cheeks.

I need someone, anyone... I need Master Antroli. As much as I hate to admit it, I need him now more than ever.