Page 46 of Challenged

I know the answer before I even ask. A goddess chosen mate bond isn’t exactly the sort of thing you get out of. But still, when Sally shakes her head - even though she does it with kindness and empathy in her eyes - it’s like a little knife sliding in between my ribs.

“Once the dreamspace forms, that’s it. Distance or injury or illness might stop it for a few nights, but as long as both parties are well and close enough to each other, it will continue to form every night.”

So going home is my only way out of it. And going home is looking less and less like a viable option, whether I can get in touch with Mercenia or not.

“It’s not the human way of doing things,” Liv says, her voice gentle, persuasive again. “But are human ways always great? Lorna had a husband three times her age picked for her by her parents.”

“I would have had a military tier guy selected for me based on our genetics to have the best chance of producing good offspring,” Brooks adds with a shrug.

“And for us, marriage and children were illegal,” Sally says, gesturing at herself and Liv. “How did it work on your tier?”

She doesn’t ask it like a ‘gotcha’, but it’s exactly the right question to undermine me.

“We were Screened for suitability,” I say, and the disgust the process still makes me feel creeps into my voice. “If we passed, we were moved into the family path and trained to be good wives. The rest of us were put on the career path. No husbands, just lessons in touch typing and taking meeting minutes. Admin stuff. So the real brains of the company didn’t have to bother with it.”

“The men?” Liv’s tone is so disparaging, it makes me laugh. But then she gives me a piercing sort of look. “And you want to go back to that?”

The spectre of the beginning of our conversation looms over us. They all look at me, their expressions different, but all equally invested in my answer.

“Look,” I say, taking a breath before facing her. “I’m not going to lie and say I magically want to stay here now. But also, contrary to what my behaviour might suggest, I’m not a monster. You’re absolutely right. If Mercenia comes back here, they will take your children, and I’m not going to be a party to that.”

Liv nods, the motion a little stiff, as if she doesn’t quite trust me. I can’t blame her for that.

Fortunately, Marsal chooses that moment to start squirming and fussing. I’d almost forgotten the little one was there, and the reminder only makes me think again of how her existence should have been impossible.

“Why don’t you take Brooks out to meet Rachel and Grace,” Liv says to Sally. “They should be nearly done with unpacking and settling in by now.” She turns to Brooks. “When you’re ready, come back down with Shemza, and we’ll get started opening up the next pods.”

“Dawes?” Brooks says.

Liv grimaces. “Tempting, but I don’t know. Maybe it would be better if we got Rachel and Grace up to speed with the process on someone else. We can discuss it when we’re ready to start, anyway.”

Brooks nods, then she and Sally, and a now squalling Marsal, head out of the computer room. Liv turns back to me, and I’m expecting her to give me some warning or ultimatum. Instead, she nods at the clothes in my hand.

“You should get changed. You’ll be a lot more comfortable. Especially if you ever decide to come outside and meet everyone.”

There’s a light note of judgement in her tone.

“This kind of environment is a bit more my speed,” I say, gesturing at the computers around us.

But I pull off the stiff, scratchy t-shirt I’m wearing and replace it with the raskarran blouse. It’s massively too big, much like the nightgown, hanging almost to my knees. The trousers are no better - I think I could fit half of me again inside them - but with a bit of creative tucking in and a belt tied round my waist, I don’t feel like I’m going to be flashing my underwear to everyone every time I move.

“One of the girls back at the village was a seamstress,” Liv says, folding up the clothes I was wearing as I pull my newboots back on. “There might be a bit of a queue, but she’ll get everything fitting you better. You won’t have to feel like you’re wearing a tent forever.”

“Wish I had a practical skill like that,” I say. “Hardly an asset to the tribe, am I? Don’t think anyone needs their calendar keeping out here.”

She gives me a sympathetic sort of smile. “I destroyed contraband for a living, so I feel you. They didn’t even teach us to set the fires we were using to burn books, so it’s not like I could even put that on my ‘forest survival skills’ resume.”

“Waste disposal?” I say, confusion rippling through me. “But that’s…”

“Bottom tier gutter trash work?” Liv says, her voice hard enough to cut diamond.

I wince, wishing I could go back a day, start the whole process of waking up again and not be a total dick about it. There’s really no way to apologise for being such a shitty human being, but I do my best.

“I’m sorry. It was an inexcusably awful thing to say. I was frightened and angry and I still should have known better. Because I fucking hate it when people talk about me like that.”

“They called you gutter trash?” Liv arches a brow.

“No, they called me stupid, vapid, ugly. Not as evocative, but it all amounts to the same thing - worthless. I know none of that stuff was true about me. I should have known it wasn’t true about bottom tier people either.” I grimace. “Not that it being true would have been any excuse for slinging insults around.”

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