Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Behind a…wall?” H’nah asks, looking over at me. “Are you serious?”
“Ask them, Noj’me,” Tal’nef insists.
F’lor steps forward, neatly taking the sah-sah away from Tal’nef and replacing it with a cup of steaming tea. “I’m sure they have different customs where he comes from and there’s a reason for all of it. Let’s not take the words of a drunk stranger to heart, okay? And no one else give them sah-sah, all right?” She glares directly at A’tam. “There’s being welcoming and there’s being a jackass.”
A’tam puts his hands in the air. “I am innocent!”
I’rec snorts. He moves to F’lor’s side and kisses her cheek. “I will be back soon. Kyth needs another khui.”
She swats I’rec’s backside as he leaves. “Hurry home, love.” She looks over at me and R’slind and her expression grows awkward, though her smile remains. “I’m glad you guys are back, by the way. It’s good to have everyone here and safe. Rosalind’s appearance explains why at least one of the three pods was empty. I don’t suppose you saw two other women when you were down below?”
I shake my head. “R’slind was the only one.”
“I saw two people,” R’slind says slowly. She looks away from V’ronca and over to F’lor. “When I woke up, almost all of the pods were closed. But I saw a monster running off with a woman. It scared me and that’s why I ran.”
“A monster?” F’lor asks.
“He…didn’t look human. Too big. Scary face.” R’slind glances over at the other ancestors, and then the taters that are new to the beach. “I didn’t realize at the time, but he was probably an alien.”
F’lor’s lips flatten and she puts her hands on her hips. “Did he look like someone near the fire? Blue skin? Red skin? Scales? No scales?”
R’slind shrugs.
“So we’re looking for another splice most likely, and one with a woman.” Her expression hardens. “If they’re not dead from the lack of a khui already. Well, shit. I don’t suppose you saw which way they were going?”
“Um…the mountains? Maybe?”
F’lor nods. “We’ll get A’tam and his nose on it in the morning. Let me go tell I’rec before he runs off.” She steps over one of the newcomers, easing her way out of the group.
More people missing. Many newcomers. R’slind being a duplicate, the implication of which I do not entirely understand. I think about the tunnels full of ancestors, and the metlaks that were heading into the mountains.
I could spend all night talking about it, discussing what to do with R’hosh and Leezh. Talking of ways to scout the area without being seen, and what it could possibly mean for all of us.
But I look at R’slind. Her shoulders are drooping and she looks weary. Tired. Wilting, like a bit of seaweed brought too close to the heat of the fire. My mate comes first. She needs food and then she needs to rest.
Everything else can wait until the morning.
Twenty-Seven
ROSALIND
Veronica, the nice woman who claims to be a healer, says that I’m in perfect health and my “khui” is strong. That there’s nothing to worry about, and none of the other clones have showed any health issues other than Kyth, the mountain-sized gray guy who can’t seem to keep a khui alive.
That’s great…I guess.
I still can’t get past the realization that I’m not me. I’m a copy of someone else. The holes in my memory? Are because they’re someone else’s memories. I don’t know why they’re piecemeal, only that I can recall specific books I loved as a child, or fanfics I wrote, but I can’t remember my last name or where I’m from. It’s like someone mapped out my brain and punched out holes in random spots.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t my brain that was mapped at all. It was some other Rosalind, some other fanfic-writing librarian who has a predilection for Spock and Kirk making sweet little babies together. I’m just a copy. A shitty copy that was thrown away, dumped on a remote planet where no one will ever find me.
One of the other women retrieved her bracelet and let me hear the recorded message that was supposed to explain everything to me.
“Lucky you,” the elderly alien woman says in the recording. “Turns out, you’re a clone. And not just any clone, but an illegally made one. Normally an illegally made clone is immediately euthanized, but someone with a lot of credits paid to have you dropped off somewhere safe and hidden away. So, here you are. It’s a little chilly here, but the locals are nice and they’ll take care of you. Tell Daisy and Mardok I said hello, and that I hope they’re getting keffed hard and regularly by their respective mates. As for you, my little clone, I left you some supplies. Play nice with your new buddies and have a great life.”