Chapter 12

It seemed far too early when she was awoken the next morning. She lay still for long moments, listening to the movement of other women and wishing desperately she was home. It was Tuesday. She should be getting ready for work today. They had their science unit test and she loved to give the kids a magical bit of chocolate to start the day when they had a test.

Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes. She missed her little munchkins. Who was going to answer all their crazy questions and tie their shoes, and correct their little letters when they floated off the line? What would her mom think? Sure they hadn't spoken in three months, her mom had always been difficult to get along with, but she would surely panic when Mia was reported missing. Had she already been reported missing? There were others, too, though no one she was very close to since Brian, but they would worry. Even Brian would worry. There had really been no time to consider the consequences of her situation. Even if she could go back now, the results would be catastrophic. She would lose her job, no doubt. People would ask questions and if she even told them part truths she would be sent for psychiatric help. No, nothing would ever be the same again.

“Mia?”

Mia wasn't an unkind person, but she really, really wished Becky would just leave her alone for another five minutes. Was it so terrible that she wanted to have a mope and a cry in a little privacy? But she couldn't dismiss the other woman. Not when she had come so far, and not when she had obviously suffered something terrible in her past life. She would push those feelings of desperate sadness away and deal with them later, if she could find time alone.

“I'm awake.”

“The other women are saying it's time for breakfast.”

Giving up entirely on the idea of sleep, or even relaxation, Mia opened her eyes and rose from her prone position. She wasn't as sore as she expected to be; sleeping on a real bed at last had done her body wonders.

She made the bed neatly, more out of habit than anything and then drew a deep breath and faced the room around her. There were ten beds in the room, each filled, or recently filled. There had been many rooms, if they each held the same amount of beds that would be dozens, maybe hundreds of women.

“There's cloths here, in these cubbies,” Ashley mentioned from the other side of the room. She pressed a hand against a spot next to her bed and a hidden drawer shot out. “At least they have good taste in something,” the blond muttered before grabbing a few layers of fabric and stripping from her sleeping clothes.

Mia tried the same thing. It took a few attempts before she found the right place on the wall. Her drawer was filled with neutral colors, chocolates and whites, beige and gray. There were soft looking flexible pants, several kinds of tops and even silky underwear.

“Do you think they make these or...”

Mia looked up. Becky was half dressed, a black pair of pants that flowed loose at the bottom, and was shoving her arms into a yellow wrap of some sort. Her face paled.

“Oh god, what if we're wearing some dead woman's clothes.”

One of the other women, someone who had been there longer than Mia's group chuckled. A head of wild red curls poked up over one of the nearby beds.

“They raided their shops. All the clothes are new. I'd be more concerned about how they knew our measurements.”

Well that was a relief at least.

“How long have you been here?” Mia asked.

“Four weeks,” the woman stood. She wore a deep emerald shirt that was bare over one shoulder and brown fitted pants. Mia had the overwhelming urge to tell her she looked like her favorite Disney princess, but decided on keeping her thoughts to herself instead. “We were the fourteenth group brought in. You are the last, or so they say. The longest anyone has been here is three months. That group is in the far room on this floor. I wouldn't bother too much with them though, they've got some kind of attitude deficiency.”

Mia grunted. “Why? We're all in the same situation, aren't we?”

“Who knows?” The woman shrugged. “I suspect it has to do with Leanne. They all seem to follow her lead. Her mission is to make the men so miserable that they are forced to take us home.”

“She said that?”

“Oh yeah, tries to recruit everyone who is new,” the woman closed her drawer and sat on the edge of the bed, running fingers through her red tangles.

“You don't agree? It could work, I suppose.”

The woman shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn't feel right being such a bitch to them, and it hasn't done her any good anyway. I want to go home as much as the next woman, its just...these men are just doing the best that they can with what they have. They've been through hell. I don't want to add to that, some of them are really sweet.”

Mia considered what the woman was saying. She couldn't help but at least partially agree. The way that Draven had spoken the night before, with pride and determination, and his plans for expanding the complex, were so full of hope. She didn't want to be part of those plans, but she didn't want to smash the alien's attempts to make a better life with what they had. There must be another way, something they could do, or say, that would make them reconsider.

“I'm Pheobe,” the woman stood and strode toward Mia, introducing herself.

“Mia,” she turned, “this is Becky and Ashley.” She scanned the room, but it had emptied save for the four of them.

“Well, come on then. The food will be ready when we get to the dining hall. You don't want to miss the show,” Pheobe grinned.

“Show?” Becky whispered, confused.

“Trust me, it's worth the wake up to see.”

The meal hall was nearly full when Mia and the others arrived. One of the guards at the door rushed them to their seats with a bit of a harried look about him.

Warm plates of breads, fruit, and a variety of spreads filled the table before them.

“Where is all the food coming from? You'd think after ten years, they would be running low.”

“And none of it looks canned,” Ashley poked at a lump of fruit on her plate.

“There is a second park here, like the one you came through last night. It is filled with all sorts of vegetables and smaller fruits. The men leave often to hunt and to gather fruits from some of the trees farther into the city. I think a few of the men have started making preserves and flour from what they grow here, a lot is still gathered from the shops throughout the city.”

Mia looked at the food before her with more appreciation. What effort must it take to put on even such a simple feast?

A glass of white fluid sat before her. It looked like milk.

“That's the juice of the Hassa fruit, grown farther in the city. It's slightly sour, and don't expect it to be creamy or you'll have a bit of a surprise,” Pheobe smiled and sipped her own drink.

A heavy drumbeat silenced the murmuring in the hall and two long panels at the far end of the room parted, revealing a stage of sorts.

Two men stood there, chests bare, muscled stomachs rippling down to where soft pants covered their waists. Even their feet were bare. They stood facing one another, each holding a long pole in their left hand.

Even from that distance Mia recognized Gorth. His black skin and massive size definitely set him apart. She hadn't realized he was so ripped. Holy smokes.

The other man was smaller, but equally as impressive in form. His skin was an olive complexion with heavy dark splotches marring his arms and chest.

“See, told ya it was worth the wake up.”

Mia nodded dumbly and took a sip of her fruit juice. If she didn't look at it while she drank, it seemed a lot like lemonade A strange drink for breakfast, really, but rather impressive that there was something like it there at all.

The drumming intensified and for almost a whole minute nothing happened. The men just stood there, looking at one another. Then the drums beat twice in rapid succession before fading.

Gorth moved at the other man so quickly Mia had trouble tracking his movements. He swung his pole with enough force to knock out a baby elephant. Mia cringed, if that strike held true...

The other man blocked, just in time, and the poles clanged together with a crack that made her heart jump. Gorth and the man danced around one another, exchanging hits with a terrifying intensity. Part of her wished that she had seen this display before they had crossed that grassland, she would have been far less worried when Gorth had been pulled off into the vegetation. The poles clashed together again and again, their lithe bodies moving and twisting. Sweat began to glisten on their skin, but they kept pressing. The other man got around Gorth's side somehow and slapped the man's ribs with a deafening smack. Mia paled. There was no way Gorth hadn't felt that. She would be surprised if some of the ribs weren't broken.

He showed no hint of distress, however, turning and meeting the next blow as if he felt nothing at all. The battle seemed to go on forever and only ended when Gorth had appeared to stumble to one knee and took the opportunity to swipe his opponent’s legs out from beneath him. He pressed the end of his pole into the man's neck and they posed like that, panting heavily, until the man gave a signal with his fingers. A yield.

Wow. She had watched boxing matches on tv, and once she had seen a martial arts competition with Brian, but this was far beyond any of that. These were the moves of men who had learned to fight for their lives, and win.

Before Mia could comment, Gorth reached down and helped the other man up and they both exited the stage. She gaped at the stage. Warriors indeed.