“You have the same bracelet I do,” says another. “If I’m a clone, you’re a clone too.”
“I’m not a clone,” Isadora exclaims. “I can prove it. I have a scar from an appendectomy right…here…” She lifts her blanket and shoves her shift up, not caring that she’s exposing her crotch to the world. She bares her abdomen and then runs her hand over smooth skin, frowning. “Where’s my scar?”
“You’re a clone,” says the first woman again, convinced.
Another woman pulls her arm out of the protective warmth of the blankets and extends it thoughtfully, then taps the button on her bracelet. The same message begins to play. “Lucky you. Turns out you’re a clone…”
“Lucky you…” chimes another bracelet. And then another. The message plays over and over again.
Turns out you’re a clone…
I share a glance with I’rec, worried. If these people are clones, is that why they’re missing memories or is there brain damage I can’t see? And why is it that Ketchup and Hot Sauce—aka the twins, Thrand and Vordis—are clones but they’ve got bright red skin and these people don’t?
“Eee-lee-gyahl,” I’rec muses, tripping over the “G” sound. “My mind tells me this word means it is not allowed. Is this right?”
I nod, still processing all this information. If this is shocking to me, I can only imagine how terrifying it must be for these people. There’s a dark-haired woman who wipes at her cheeks, crying as her recording plays, and another is eyeing her surroundings with terrified eyes, as if she wants to bolt. And one of the males—the biggest cat-guy—is eyeing the closest female with interest.
We need to take control of the situation, and fast, because it could very quickly turn into a clusterfuck.
So I step in to take control. “Okay guys, listen up. Put your bracelets away. They probably all say the same thing.” I wave a hand, indicating that I’m not interested in what the message says. “We don’t know if that’s the truth or not, and whoever dumped you here isn’t around to tell us. So here’s what we’re going to do.
“You’re all safe here with us. You’re probably tired and confused. You’re not going to think straight coming straight out of one of those pods. Trust me, I know. We’ll rest here overnight and then we’re going to get you khuis.” I point at my eyes. “This planet requires that you have a symbiont to take care of you. With the symbiont, you’ll heal faster, and you won’t be so cold. You won’t feel it inside you, either, so don’t worry about that.” I’ll tell them about resonance later, when they’re more alert and less prone to panicking. “Some of our friends are headed this way, and then we’re going to help you go back to our village on the beach. We’ll get you set up and comfortable. I just want you to know that you’re safe with us, and there are no alien overlords or slave owners or anything.” I dictate these last comments to the splices. “We have friends that used to be fighters and are now living peacefully with us.”
“What if…we…don’t want…to stay?” one of the males asks, his words slurring.
“We’ll get you set up on your feet and give you enough food and clothing, and then you can go. No one’s keeping anyone captive. You’re free to do as you like. But we hope you stay and become part of our people. Our family.”
“What’s your name?” asks the human man.
I put a hand on my chest. “I’m Flordeliza and I’ve been living here for over four years now. Like you, I came here in a pod. I woke up confused and frightened, but the people that live here on this planet”—I turn and put a hand on I’rec’s arm—“helped us acclimate.”
“You’re wearing skins,” one of the women comments.
“I am,” I agree. “We don’t have a lot of technology here. We have to hunt to survive.”
“And you’re happy?” Her tone is openly skeptical.
“Very happy.”
Her gaze turns to I’rec. “And who are you?”
He puffs up ever so slightly. “I am I’rec, leader of Shadow Cat clan…and I am F’lor’s mate.”
ChapterTwenty
I’REC
It is late by the time the newcomers are settled for sleep. The females pile together in a heap, exchanging names and curling up like a pile of fuzzy hoppers in a nest. One of them complains bitterly about the cold, but the others are taking their new surroundings well enough.
“They’re in shock,” F’lor tells me. “It’s too much for them to handle all at once so they’re shutting down. They’re only dealing mentally with what they can. They’ll have a nervous breakdown soon enough, but hopefully not before they’re somewhere safe with a good support system.” She thinks for a moment. “We really need Steph. She’d know how to handle this.”
I give her shoulder a reassuring touch. “You are doing excellent. They are fed. They are warm. They are all safe. No one else could do more.”
She bites her lip, nodding as she gazes out at the clustered people near the fire. The females seem to be sleeping, but I notice the males watch us closely. It is obvious that their memories are those of a far more wary nature than the females. They do not relax in our presence. They watch, and they wait.
I wonder if they are fighters, like T’rand and V’dis…and Gren.
“I suppose there’s nothing to be done until morning,” my mate says with a sigh. She moves closer to me, leaning into my embrace, and as I stroke her mane, I notice the males watch her close.