3 Kikila

When I climb out of my pod, I'm greeted by a woman in an Abr uniform who extends an Abr wristband to me. "Hello, Elora. Or should I call you Kikila Amali?"

"Now that I'm here, I don't care." I shrug.

"Kikila, then. This will keep you posted, provide access to your assigned room, and allow you to message participants, access maps, games, and the like. It will also track you while you are on station."

"Since when?" I ask.

She sighs. "A recent abduction has made us tighten security. Please come with me. We have a few last minute checks to run before we permit you to pick up your race uniform and get banded. Are you excited?"

"I'm more nervous about who might pick me. The earthman that hunted me was gross and terrible."

She blushes. "I'm sorry to hear that. I understand. But these males are all natural, medically checked out, and eager to protect and spoil you. Besides, if you don't get picked, you get a million dollars. That's a darn good alternative."

"I don't need the money." Nor do I want it. I hope someone picks me. I hope he is strong, resilient, eager to defend me because Draeke and my father aren't going to let go very easily. "Are they aware of our—struggles—the risks of picking us?"

I follow her into an exam room with a circular spread of medical beds.

"They know many of us come from less than ideal circumstances. But the band color you are assigned will inform them properly." She taps something on her tablet and has me sit on the bed. "But please know that they too come with their own struggles. They are here because they need or want a human mate instead of one from their own planet. Many are at war with the Nebulous Empire. They need heirs, a future."

"I know." I would be happy to have a family to call my own, as long as he lets me make my own decisions.

She has me lie back and places a device over my forehead. "You're going to take a quick nap. But I don't want you to worry. We have security nearby, and they aren't under your father's control."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She nods. "The Abr committee is a private enterprise that hires only capable individuals with no association or loyalty to anything or anyone but the preservation of life. Now enjoy your nap."

The woman dances her brows and taps the device on my forehead. "Can't wait to see what you're interested in."

Dark clouds of sleep fold in around me, pulling me away from the waking realm. Distant gunfire flickers in my vision, reminding me of the Novark attack. A figure moves between me and the flashes of light.

"Stay behind me," he says, firing off a few shots of his own. Each blast is a different color, a different bullet. They spiral and bloom with light, or spiral away, leaving a thread of fire in the sky.

His body collides with mine as he takes a blast from enemy weapons, but he growls and stands his ground. My pulse pounds as I fear for his life.

I find my wits and tackle him away from the battle with an arm. The world warps and melts into a medical bay on a ship. His hands glide over my body with delicate pressure.

"Are you hurt?" He asks it over and over as he combs my flesh for injuries with his strong fingers. I try to inspect his injury but he keeps guiding my hands away.

His lips find my neck and leave a trail of kisses down my chest, toward my navel.

A voice breaks up my dream. "Security risk, yes. Battle context. Single male. Self-sacrificing, humble, caring."

"Selfish?"

"Broken trust."

"Not a pink. Re-categorize as monochrome. Black or chrome."

My dream softens, and I feel myself waking, but I don't want to let go of the moment. I want to know if he's okay. I know it's not real, that's he's just in my imagination, but I'm compelled to not be like Draeke and take attention without giving it. I fight it, hard.

"Black. Wake her."

A tap to my forehead rouses me completely, and I sit up, heavy from the short, hot nap.

The doctor walks away, a tablet in her hand. My name pops up on a nearby screen with biostats.

"You're all good. We just have two more questions for you." The attendant who guided me in here looks me over. "Would you rather sleep in a castle or out under the stars?"

"Under the stars."

She selects something on her tablet.

"What are these for?"

"They go in your profile, so that when the ballot casting for who might want you occurs, they can see your stats, answers, and points earned this week. It's sort of like a mating profile. So last question. Would you rather heal a stranger or make amends with an enemy?"

"Make amends with an enemy."

She looks surprised. "Interesting. Rare that we get that one."

I brace myself on the edge of the bed. "Less fighting means fewer people to heal. And more people united means more people to help strangers."

The woman nods and motions for me to follow her. She leads me to a door and encourages me to get in line. "You'll get your uniforms and bands next."

"Thanks."

The next room is alive with chatter. Other women get in line behind me. A few push past me to talk to friends and, ultimately, skip in line.

Whatever. But I scour them for security threats.

I am suddenly numb to the buzz—a rock in a river of women, assessing every window and door. I'm not interested in making friends, just getting this over with and flying out of here to literally anywhere else, anywhere far from the eyes of my father and Draeke.

When I get my uniform and my bands, I find a bench through the next door and quickly change. There's a range of racers from thin and sinewy to plump and well-fed. I'm somewhere in the middle though more fit than most due to my job.

From watching the other women clutch the simple things they have, I wager most of them grew up with much less than I did. I have had all of the things and never gone without anything but respect. I am reminded that my struggle with Draeke is nothing compared to what a lot of these women have had to deal with. It is humbling.

As I wait, I check my assigned room and notice it has been unjustly upgraded. It doesn't list by who or for what reason. I summon a nearby Abr assistant.

"I didn't ask for a suite." I scan the room as I tie my shoes and find a woman with a small grubby bag of things. "Give it to her. And give me her space. I don't need much." Nor do I want it. I hate feeling entitled when it's a complete lie. To me, there's no sense in having the goods if I can't enjoy them under the thumb of some controlling government or dickhead.

The woman seems surprised by this. "Are you sure?"

I read her name tape. "Yes, Ohni. Please trade us."

She squints at me. "You're trying to disappear, not find a prince of another planet so you can rule there, too?"

"Ouch?" Is that really what people think of me ? If so, I definitely need to keep a low profile.

I get to my feet. "Just give me the damned basic room, please."

She holds up a hand and makes the change on her tablet. "Going to be hard to go unnoticed here. Don't know why anyone would come here to downgrade their situation."

"It's not a downgrade," I scoff. "The arranged marriage was a shackle I didn't want to wear. This is a chance to actually have a life of my choosing."

Ohni's expression softens. "I see. Well, I have switched your rooms. Best of luck out there."

I thank her and walk into the buffet room after the other participants. But I have little interest in food when I see the lights blinking on ships around the race arena.

There's no reason for so many patrols to circle the moon. Roan's words come back to me.

"It's just procedure," a woman by the elevator doors remarks. "They do a heavy patrol here, then head out to escort the males from their depot."

"I'm not looking at Abr's vessels." I point to the lights in the distance. "Terran patrols. There should be five total in Earth's orbit, not five all in one place, let alone beyond lunar orbit."

I know my father had talked of increasing patrols, but I didn't think it would happen so fast.

"Might be because they know you're here." She knows who I am.

I had expected them to find out but not so fast.

She motions to a screen playing on the wall beyond the buffet. "You came on about ten minutes ago, talking about preferring to make amends with an enemy. They show clips of every female in the race before the race starts."

I sigh and hang my head. Great. "They're going to have my head for representing Terran Security with that remark. I really wish they hadn't shared that."

"Have you never watched Abr on the holo?"

"Never had time. I was a shield technician. Kind of a critical asset in this era."

She chews a nail. "Sorry? I don't make the Abr media rules here."

"That's alright. Can't do anything about it at this point."

She motions to the tables. "Don't you want some food?"

"How can anyone eat before the race?"

"Most women are excited to be here."

I sit at a table by a window in the corner and wonder if the decision I made was the best, not about Draeke, but about being honest in regard to making amends with an enemy. I wouldn't even try with my personal enemy.

But deep in my gut, my instinct is to fight for peace, like my mother. I just hope I don't have to die for it like she did. But if that's what it comes to, I will.

Another woman in a white Abr suit walks up to me and hands me a visor. "He wants to speak with you."

"Who?" I ask, barely glancing at the device.

"Your father."

"No."

I was waiting for something like this. He has to get into everything of mine. I have no business, no decision, nothing that is truly mine.

The woman in white sets the visor on the table in front of me. "He says it's urgent."

I groan and rub my eyes.

Inside, I can't push a possible problem out of my mind. It's a compulsion he has taken advantage of in the past.

I open the call and slip on the visor. His image scrolls open in front of me. "What?"

"Don't do the race."

"Oh, come on, Dad. You gave me a choice," I snap. "I chose Abr over Draeke because he's a lying, cheating, piece of shit."

My father's image shifts as he looks away from the camera. "Roan reported ships in the skies that were not authorized."

"That was me with my unmarked ship."

"No, Kiki. Enemy ships."

"Let your teams and Abr security handle it," I said. "If it's really that dangerous, Abr needs to be shut down. Are they an immediate threat?"

My father is quiet.

"Is there a known risk to me or other Abr participants?"

He still says nothing.

"Then why did you call me really, Dad?"

"I—" He doesn't find the words, and his image scrolls closed with the ended call.

I hand the visor back to the woman who looks worried. "Is there a threat to Abr?"

"If there was, I would hope to the stars that TS would call your command first." I get up. "But I suppose it's better to address it, rather than ignore it."

The woman dips her head. "Follow me."