Page 110 of The Protector
She wrinkled her nose. “No, just male sex-bots.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I sighed. “Anyway, I have a lot to think about and process, but one thing is for sure. I’ll never forget Boulder.” I looked away so she wouldn’t see the sadness I felt.
“I almost regret becoming a teacher,” Kya said in a light tone. “You archeologists have all the fun.”
“I know.” I was grateful that she didn’t dig deeper.
Playing with my hair, Kya gave me an empathetic smile. “At least you’re back home with good memories. It would be worse if you returned all traumatized.”
“Good point,” I said softly.
“And…” She held up a hand. “They have a new sex-bot down at the pleasure parlor. Ann was raving about him. They let you take him home to sleep with and…” She wiggled her brows. “To have sex with, of course.”
“Ann took him home?”
“Yes. And she was raving about how good it was to have him for a whole night. He does this thing called spooning.”
“What’s that?”
Kya furrowed her brows. “I’m not sure, but it’s something about sleeping in his arms all night.”
“But why do they let him go home with people?”
Kya shrugged. “It surprised me too, but after seeing how excited Ann was, I signed up to have him for a night of my own. You want to get your name on that waiting list because it’s growing fast.”
“Okay,” I said distractedly, thinking about how Boulder had held me in his arms at night. Yeah, I could see why Ann would have liked that. I had too.
Christina
Days turned into weeks. I had delivered all the messages Pearl sent with me, and my thoughts went to her often. For some reason, it was a secret that she was a hostage in the Northlands. The situation made me reflect upon our society and all the times Boulder had accused the council of treating us like children.
“They decide what books you can read, what movies you can see, what truth you’re being told. It’s like an old-fashioned religious sect – that’s what it is,” he had argued and I’d thought him crazy.
But the more I thought about it, the more
I started questioning our way of life. I could see the reasoning behind the laws, and it was undisputable that in general people were happy and thriving. But the poem with Hera Bosley stood out to me because of the conversation I’d had with Pearl about it. Her first instinct had been to censor the poem and replace the curse words.
Three months ago, I would have agreed, but not any longer. Boulder was right. Words only held the power we gave them and I was strong enough to handle swear words without feeling traumatized. My guess was that so was everyone else.
We just weren’t given the choice.
If I hadn’t gone to the Northlands, I would have never known passion, desire, or fear. I would have never experienced raw emotions like the Nmen expressed them.
Our priestesses always spoke about being authentic but somehow I was starting to doubt that we had any room for that in the Motherlands. We weren’t authentic. We were molded into positive clones that were taught how to suppress any human emotions that didn’t benefit us and – more importantly – didn’t benefit our community.
My nights were the worst. Insomnia kept me awake thinking about my decision to come back here.
When I made that decision, I had naïvely thought I could return to my old life, but I had underestimated how much my time with the Nmen had changed me and not realized that the new me didn’t fit into the small, secure mold I’d been in before I left.
I thanked Mother Nature that I had Kya in my life. She saw me cry and didn’t report me for being emotionally unstable. She asked a lot of questions, and I opened up and told her almost everything – except the part about Athena and Pearl and the rather important detail that I’d married Boulder. I couldn’t betray Pearl’s trust, and the part about my being married would surely freak Kya out.
Every day, I pulled myself out of bed and put a fake smile on, but I was miserable on the inside.
“You’re grieving,” Kya said with sympathy. “You lost a good friend who meant much more to you than you knew.”
She was right about that part. I hadn’t understood or appreciated what Boulder and I shared together.
One morning, I had woken up with a smile on my lips and sweet dreams of Boulder still filling my mind. He was holding me close, teasing me and tickling me. But as the dream faded and reality came into perspective I opened my eyes to find my empty bedroom in a city where Boulder could never be allowed access.
