“He offered you to live with him?” the child almost shouted. “A complete stranger?”
“Hush, Corallyn. I will explain in a moment. I need to rest.”
“Of all the ridiculous…” The small girl furiously marched into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Aazuria slowly made her way to the bed, trying to keep her sore knees from collapsing. The joints felt like liquid that might give way under her weight. She finally crumpled weakly onto the mattress. A very quiet woman with a long braid rushed to her side and propped her legs up on pillows as she winced.
“Thank you, Elandria,” she whispered. “The twins will be here in a moment.”
Elandria nodded. Throwing her long braid over her shoulder, she began to knead the other woman’s calves.
After a few minutes, the massage seemed to soothe Aazuria enough so that she could speak. She reached out to touch Elandria’s wrist. “Do you trust me, sister?” she asked earnestly.
Elandria looked up in surprise. Her large, dark eyes were similar to Aazuria’s own, except for the shyness present in them. Before she could respond, the door to their motel room opened. Two identical redheaded women entered. They were laughing and chattering as they shut the door behind them. When they noticed the state of the woman on the bed, it only added to their humor.
“Oh, Aazuria,” one of the twins scolded from across the room. “What is the point of having a doctor around if you never listen to my counsel? I told you not to dance on stage. You can make far more money by just lap dancing, and it’s much less strenuous.”
“Unlike you two, I feel greater comfort in dancing on hardwood than on the laps of men,” Aazuria responded curtly, with a small smile.
“You didn’t seem to object to spending a little alone time with that captain of yours—and his hospitable lap,” the other twin said coquettishly, with a bold wink.
“He is a kind man,” Aazuria responded, running her hands over her thighs and groaning, “but he barely even touched me. I certainly did not become acquainted with his lap. You always jump to conclusions, Visola.”
“What? You didn’t sit on his lap? Why in Sedna’s name not?” Visola stumbled over to the bed, revealing in her canter that she had consumed a few adult beverages. She clumsily tossed her purse onto the night table, and a cluster of bills spilled out. She grinned at this and launched herself onto the bed beside the other girls, landing face-first against the mattress. “Tell me everything!”
“He thinks that I am too young,” Aazuria responded drolly.
Visola snorted in laugher. “You! Young, indeed. Did you tell him how old you are?”
“Yes. He did not believe me; he thought it was a joke.”
“Typical,” said the other twin. She had been carefully removing her purse and jacket, but now she turned to Aazuria and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s due to the deterioration of the quality of communication between men and women in this society. It’s really quite markedly manifest.”
“What do you mean, Sionna?” Aazuria asked, trying to focus on her friend’s words through her blinding pain. She saw the brilliant doctor tilt her chin arrogantly before speaking.
“You could tell a man anything, darling. Anything at all. Tell him about the secrets which make us unique—our biological faculties. Tell him about our rich heritage; tell him about our beautiful home and how it’s unlike anything else on earth. Tell him about your years of captivity, about how long and hard you’ve dreamed of this very moment when you could be in the company of a kind stranger and reveal all this. He will very likely respond with, ‘Och, that’s funny dear! Now let me see your titties.’”
Visola chuckled at her sister’s cynicism. “So true! So very true.”
Sionna nodded. “The same goes for the women. Men and women of this particular period are so used to constantly lying to each other that they are culturally trained not to take the other seriously. It’s a mental adaptation everyone seems to have. Ubiquitous distrust.”
“Captain Trevain Murphy was so genuine and generous with me,” Aazuria insisted. “After meeting him I think it must surely be possible for men and women to communicate candidly, even here.”
“You’re so naïve, Zuri,” Visola said with a yawn. She leaned her head against her friend’s shoulder. “For your advanced years, you can be so idealistic. Soon you’ll see that we’re right.”
When Aazuria sighed, she inhaled the combination of Visola’s fragrant red hair and alcohol-laced breath. She knew that it was futile to criticize the warrior-woman’s habits; among other unsavory titles, Visola was Adlivun’s drinking champion. Aazuria glanced down at Elandria who was still rubbing her calves dutifully, but the small woman did not speak. She turned back to the redhead resting on her shoulder with a smile. “Trevain noticed you two hovering around me. So much for stealth!”
“Sio and I have been at your side, guarding you for over five hundred years,” Visola said firmly. “We’re not going to let any harm come to you. After all we’ve been through, it would be downright silly if we let you get shanked in a lap dancing booth.”
“Shanked?” Sionna repeated, rolling her eyes at her sister. “General Visola Ramaris! Where did you pick up such smutty slang?”
“You ladies forget that I have the ability to take care of myself,” Aazuria pointed out in amusement. “I hardly think I was ever in any danger from that sweet, harmless man.”
“Harmless my foot,” Visola muttered, stomping her foot on the bed for emphasis. “Didn’t you notice how tall he was, how broad and muscled his shoulders? He is physically strong and potentially very dangerous.”
“You grow more paranoid every day, Viso.” Aazuria rested her cheek against the wayward red curls exploding from her friend’s scalp. “Trevain Murphy is a gentleman. He runs a boat called The Fishin’ Magician. He works too hard and does not have a large family; I believe he is lonely.” Seeing that her silent sister had looked up curiously, Aazuria smiled and gave some more descriptions. “He has sad, tired green eyes and a slight limp. He also has some kind of obsession with age and he seems to think that he is extremely old.”
“Proportionately to his lifespan, he is rather old,” Sionna pointed out, “although in absolute terms and relative to us, he is but an infant.”
“An infant who has accomplished great things,” Aazuria told the doctor. “Apparently, he owns a massive home not too far from here. He has invited me to live with him.”
“To live with him? To live with him?” Visola asked, bolting upright frantically. “You’re not considering it? Great Sedna below! You’re seriously considering it.”
“We need to be practical. He has also offered me access to financial resources. There are five of us. One hotel room with two beds is quite pathetic considering the cavernous dimensions we were accustomed to in Adlivun.”
“It doesn’t bother me, Princess Aazuria.” Sionna’s voice was firm. “We didn’t come here for luxury. We came here for safety and protection. I came here for knowledge and technology to update our infirmaries.”
“And I’m here in to score superior weaponry for our forces,” Visola said. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but our weaponry is pretty primitive. I can easily fix everything with some hardcore American dollars.”
The door to the bathroom flung open just as loudly as it had been slammed shut. The child called Corallyn emerged from restroom, wringing a cloth between her hands. “Why is he offering you this?” she demanded.
“He feels sympathy for me,” Aazuria explained to her youngest sister. Corallyn’s physique was similar to that of a nine-year-old. “He wishes to be our benefactor since our father is dead.”
Visola’s eyes narrowed as she regarded her friend. “I wonder if he would feel that way if he knew that you had killed your father, Aazuria?”
“Please,” Aazuria said in a low voice, “please.”
The quiet girl with the long braid stopped massaging Aazuria’s legs for a moment to use her hands to s
ign an insult to Visola angrily: “It is too soon to bring it up so casually! Have you no tact?”
“I’m sorry. Elandria, you’re right.” Visola sighed and hugged Aazuria gently around the waist. “Forgive me, Zuri. I forget how much you cared for your pops.”
“I am very tired. My legs are burning. I should rest.” Aazuria pulled away from the others to curl up into a ball on the small, crowded bed.
“Zuri,” said Corallyn, approaching her older sister and placing a damp cloth around her knees apologetically. “I ran a bath for you. Sio mentioned before that I should add something called Epsom salt to heal your legs right up. Please try it; it should make you feel better.”
Aazuria remained still for a moment, her eyes closed tightly before she nodded. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and soft. “Thank you, Coral. I will.”
She sat up, and began to move to stand, but once she was off the bed, her knees began to collapse. The twins were at her side in an instant, placing their arms under her shoulders to support her as she walked to the bathroom. They helped her remove her dress and get into the bathtub where she blissfully lay down and closed her eyes.
“I did not know it would hurt this badly. It did not hurt at all when I was dancing on stage,” Aazuria admitted.
“That was probably adrenaline,” Sionna explained. “Your body had a rush of a hormone which made it think it could do more than it really could. I somehow never experience that sensation at home.”
“This place is much less calm than we are used to, Doctor Ramaris,” Aazuria said softly to Sionna. Seeing that the young girl at her side was worried, she reached out to touch Corallyn’s elbow. “The bath helps. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, big sis,” the child answered. “I’m sorry that I was rude earlier. Just the idea of living with a man again! So soon after we rid ourselves of Papa! The idea truly frightens me.”
“He promised me that we would have our freedom,” Aazuria said, stretching her aching legs out underwater. “If you think about it, we may not get another offer like this. We need to seize it. His resources could be invaluable to our cause.”
“We don’t need a man, Aazuria,” Visola said firmly. “Do you know how much money we’ve made in the past week? They say Alaskan king crab fishermen make the most money in the world, but I don’t believe it. My sister and I have each made over five thousand dollars this week. The shrewd women seducing away large portions of the salaries of the men who make the most money in the world stand in a substantially better position than those fools do.”
“She’s right. If your main concern is our poor accommodations, Viso and I can easily afford an additional hotel room,” Sionna suggested.
“You two would not allow a curtain to come between us. Now you want to sleep in separate rooms?” Aazuria closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the tub.
“You can’t blame us for being cautious,” Visola said. “Everything has changed now that Adlivun is being threatened and scouted. Your father ignored the signs of impending attack, but everyone knows what’s happening. If you really want, we could get a larger suite. Maybe two joined rooms if we leave the door between them open…”
“All of these solutions are so temporary! We can’t revive Adlivun’s defenses in a week. We do not have bank accounts, nor do we have any safe places to store the massive amounts of money we are making. We cannot get bank accounts, and we cannot purchase homes or vehicles. We do not have any identification. We do not exist.”
“I have identification!” Corallyn interrupted. “We could use mine.”
“Yes. You have identification that says you were born ninety years ago in Moscow, but you only look about nine years old by land standards.”
“I’ll just stay above the surface for a few years until I look my age!”
“By the time you will look your age, you would realistically need to resemble a cadaver. I think the best solution is to take Trevain up on his offer and to live comfortably in his home while we do what we need to do. We cannot survive in this world without connections and allies. Just as we have allies in Adlivun, we must have allies here.”
Visola sat down on the toilet seat of the small bathroom and strummed her nails against the ceramic basin. “How about we just kill a few friendless, jobless, women who look like us and steal their identities? People won’t notice they’re missing. We can hide their bodies in Adlivun and no one will ever find them. Then we can just do everything ourselves.”
“Visola!” scolded Sionna angrily, “we are not doing that.”
“It would be efficient and fast,” Visola muttered with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “Spoilsport.”
Corallyn had been chewing on her lip nervously. “I think Aazuria’s idea makes the most sense,” she finally admitted.
Aazuria looked at the young girl gratefully. “I am glad you agree. But if I accept his offer I can only take my sisters with me.”
“No,” the twins chorused in unison. There was very little the two could agree upon, but this was one of those rare moments.
“Absolutely not,” said Visola. “We won’t allow you to go. We may not be related by blood, but we grew up at your side. I have hardly ever been separated from you, Zuri. We are as much your sisters as Elan and Coral are!”
“In almost every respect you two are my beloved sisters,” Aazuria answered, sitting up in the tub and turning to cast a stern glare at the women. “However, politically, and with respect to the government of our people, I am now your mother. Mother to all of you. I am the eldest, and I have been educated for this role. Father is gone now, by my hands. It is my responsibility to take care of all of you, and to make decisions that will keep us all safe. I will consult you and gather your opinions, as we often begrudged father for not doing, but I would appreciate if you treated my ideas with a little more respect.”
Sionna sighed and knelt by the bathtub, resting her chin on her elbows and looking up at Aazuria. “Do you really like him, darling?”
Aazuria pondered over the questions for a moment. She stared at the olive fleur-de-lis patterned tiles on the bathroom wall before nodding. “Yes. I do really like him.”
“Very well. Just remember this is exactly what King Kyrosed always warned us against.” Sionna dipped her finger in the bathwater and drew lingering circles. “He kept us imprisoned because he believed it was dangerous to get too close to land-dwellers.”
“And that is exactly why you all wanted him gone,” Aazuria reminded her. “We thought it better to face these dangers as free women than to waste our lives away in captivity. We thought it better to have a fighting chance at survival rather than to remain sitting ducks and be conquered. Now that we are here, what is the point of our freedom if we are guarded to the point of keeping ourselves imprisoned anyway?”
There was a small silence, before Corallyn nodded. “You’re right. Besides, if we make mistakes, we’ll always have each other to help us to rectify our errors. Nothing is permanent.”
“I still can’t agree with this,” Visola said. “It sounds too good to be true.”
Aazuria gestured to the doorway where the silent woman stood. “We have not yet heard what Elandria thinks.”
Elandria, who had been fretfully fingering her braid, dropped the rope of hair. She lifted her hands to answer in sign language. “I defer to whatever you decide, esteemed sister. If you say he is a good man, then I believe he is a good man.”
“Rubbish,” said Visola with a dissatisfied grunt, “absolute rubbish. There is no such thing.”
“I may prove you wrong yet,” Aazuria challenged gravely.
“Ha! I certainly hope you do,” Visola said. Then after taking a deep breath, she smiled. “I can’t say I’m not a little jealous, Zuri! A few days here and you’ve already been offered to enjoy someone’s home and fortune. Basically a marriage proposal. I’ve got squat!”
“That’s only because Zuri gives off that ‘refined royalty’ vibe, and y
ou give off more of a ‘vicious harlot’ vibe,” Sionna explained.
“Don’t forget that we’re exactly alike,” Visola said to her twin with a sunny wink. She turned to look at the others. “Do you girls mind if I have a private word with the princess?”
When the other three had left, Visola sat on the edge of the bathtub. The two women sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Visola began speaking. “Look, Zuri. I understand if you don’t like dancing in that grimy club for money. It was the quickest solution I could come up with that didn’t involve pawning our jewels.”
“It was a great solution, Viso. It is an impressive way to make money,” Aazuria admitted. “But we should also sell the jewels; what use are shiny baubles if we can use the money to save lives?”
“They are irreplaceable heirlooms from our ancestors. Let me see if I can do this without touching our treasures. Maybe we won’t need to go that far.”
Aazuria nodded. “I should have listened to you and I should not have tried the ballet. My legs were not ready yet.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Visola confessed. “Your dance was so moving. It almost brought tears to my eyes, and you know that I am as cold as they come. You were so free and… triumphant. I’ve never seen you let go like that, not once in over five hundred years.”
Aazuria reached up and grasped her friend’s hand, squeezing it firmly to express her gratitude. Her voice descended to a whisper. “You know me so well, Viso. I have never felt as exultant as I did on stage tonight. Thank you for showing that place to me—it is rough and crude, but there are real people there with earnest passions and sorrows. I could see it in their eyes when I danced. It was almost too much to bear; to feel all those heavy eyes on me, and to feel so obligated to dance their afflictions away!”
Visola’s lips twitched. “Only you could turn a strip club into something spiritual.”
The dark haired woman sent a sly smile at her protectress. “It was worth all the physical pain I now feel. It was worth taking father’s life for. This is one of those days that I do not regret what I have done.”
Visola brought Aazuria’s hand up to her lips and kissed it gently with respect. “You should never feel regret. You did us all a great justice, but I wish that you would have let me do it for you so that you wouldn’t have to live with the guilt.”
Aazuria was quiet for a moment. Visola reached out to brush her moist dark hair over her shoulders. “How are your lungs?”
“Perfectly fine. No pain at all,” Aazuria answered, forcing a small smile. “I will be in good health as long as I do not attempt to dance like that too often.”
Visola continued to stroke her friend’s dark hair, sighing. “Poor Zuri. I hardly recognize you with this dark skin and dark hair. How long has it been since you were in the sunlight? Australia, maybe?” She swallowed at the bittersweet memory. “I really wish that you would take me and Sio along with you to live with your captain. It would ease my mind. I’ll drive myself mad with worry otherwise. Why don’t you just lie and say we’re related?”
“We must be realistic, Viso. With my melanin problem, and you two just as fair as ever, there is no way that he is going to believe that.” Aazuria gave her friend a wry look, lifting her arms. “I look as though I come from the heart of the Caribbean or Mediterranean, not from the Bering.”
“We could dye our hair to match yours…”
“It would not work. Coral and Elandria are also tanning considerably, so it’s easy to see that they are my sisters. Let us not lie any more than we need to. Also, I would not want to cause Trevain more discomfort than necessary; bringing two girls with me is far more polite than four.”
“Fine,” Visola said, reluctantly. “I understand—but Zuri, I haven’t let you out of my sight in a very long time. I want you to know I’m not going to be comfortable with this.” The redhead slowly stood up, placing her hands on her hips in an aggressive pose. “If you see shadows lurking in the bushes outside your new place, don’t freak out. That’s probably me. If you see a red laser dot in the middle of your captain’s forehead, don’t freak out. I’ve probably just got him in the crosshairs of my sniper rifle.”
Aazuria looked up at her friend in confusion. “You have a sniper rifle?”
“Not yet, but trust me: I’ll get one soon enough.” Visola’s turned upwards in her classic mischievous grin. “I’m working on it.”
Leaning back in the tub, Aazuria returned a tired smile. “Can you ask the girls if anyone needs a bath?”
Visola opened the door of the bathroom and addressed the other women in the room. She turned back to Aazuria and shook her head to indicate the negative response.
“Do you need one?” Aazuria asked.
“Nope,” Visola said, “I showered before leaving the club.”
“Great. You four can share the beds. Have a good night. I am going to sleep here in the bathtub.” With that, Aazuria sunk down into the artificially created saltwater, and curled up inside the ceramic basin.
Visola refrained from protesting. “Goodnight, Zuri,” she said tenderly before exiting the bathroom. She left a crack open in the door and seated herself against the wall just outside.
Chapter 6: The Captain’s Manor