The Heirs of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The giant skeleton lay in the desert, the size of a dreadnought, bleached and smoothed by eras of sand and sunlight. Bay flew Brooklyn down toward it, seeking forgetfulness within its bones.

"Bay, you promised me," Brooklyn said. "A nice planet with grass and sunlight. Not another sin hive."

"There's sunlight here," he said.

"Because it's a mucking desert!" the starship said. "Bay! Is this why we left the Heirs of Earth? To land in another Paradise Lost, and—"

"Brooklyn, enough," Bay said. "We just need to recoup our costs. Your wing wasn't cheap to fix, you know. I'll play some Five Card Bluff, win some scryls, and then find a better place. All right?

The starship sighed. Her camera drooped. She said nothing more.

Bay glided her down toward the skeleton. He landed on a sandy field by the skull. The eye sockets peered down, large enough for a starship to fly through. The jaws gaped open, as large as a temple, teeth like columns.

A few dozen starships parked around Brooklyn, hulls sandy. Most were the spiky, graffiti-covered ships of smugglers, thieves, and mercenaries. A handful of reptilian bounty hunters leaned against a boulder, smoking living serpents like cigars. Aliens in black robes and hoods, this world's natives, rode giant millipedes.

"Bay, don't leave me here," Brooklyn said. "I—"

"Brook!" he said. "Damn it! I told you, I need to do this, all right?"

"No you don't, Bay!" She rocked in the sand. "You can go back to your dad. To your sister. To Rowan. You can—"

"I won't go back!" Bay said. "I won't fight in a war. I won't see Rowan die like Seohyun, like—"

He bit down on his words.

"Oh, Bay," Brooklyn whispered.

"Just . . . go into sleep mode or something." Bay exited the starship without another word.

He stepped through the jaws of the giant skeleton. Many aliens moved around him, riding, hovering, slithering, clattering. As always, Bay slouched, his hood pulled low over his head, his long sleeves hiding his hands, trying to vanish into the crowd.

The skeleton was half buried in the sand. The ribs rose like columns alongside a central promenade, supporting the spine high above. Stalls filled the spaces between the ribs, shaded by awnings and curtains and strings of jingling beads. There were scaly soothsayers with long white mustaches, vowing to tell Bay's fortune for a handful of scryls; drug dens where aliens lay on tasseled rugs, smoking from hookahs; fighting pits where crowds cheered, watching naked felines hiss and scratch and claw each other apart; shops selling rusty guns, spiky grenades, and swords with horn hilts; apothecaries where hooded aliens sold vials of medicine and poison; gambling tents where aliens hunched over stone boards, moving pieces of brass and glass and bone; and a thousand other nooks for every sin imaginable.

Bay wanted to stop and gamble. But he was too shaky. His bad hand ached. He wandered through the crowd until he found what he sought. Every sin hive had one. The stall was at the back, draped with curtains. A sign formed of blue and gold tiles displayed the words Electric Dreams.

Bay stepped inside. An embroidered rug covered the floor, and tasseled cushions lay strewn across the room. There was a hookah filled with bubbling green hintan, a bowl of water with some towels, and a virtual reality helmet. No body suit—just a few sensors to strap onto his body. But beggars couldn't be choosers.

The helmet was made for aliens with larger heads. But again, it would have to do. When Bay placed it on, it wobbled.

A robotic voice spoke through speakers embedded inside the helmet. "Insert payment to embark upon your romantic adventure."

Bay felt around the side of the helmet, found a slot, and dropped in a few scryls. The interface came to life.

A voice spoke again, this time feminine and seductive. "Please choose a species, then begin to customize your erotic companion."

A menu allowed him to scroll through a library of several thousand species. He scrolled down until he found human, then began to customize his creation. He made the human female, then began building her body, choosing height, weight, hair, eyes, and every other feature from a menu. Bay normally preferred tall, curvy blondes or redheads. Today he created a slender, short woman—only five feet tall. He gave his companion short brown hair and dark eyes.

"Companion completed," intoned the voice.

The virtual reality girl nestled against him. "Hello, darling. May I keep you company tonight?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Just let me hold you."

She nuzzled him. "Of course, sir. Shall I pleasure you?"

He shook his head. "No. Do you have any movies?"

The hologram stroked his chin. "Does not compute, sir. Movies?"

"Yeah, movies," Bay said. "With swords and wizards and . . ."

He heaved a sigh.

This is wrong.

The girl kissed him and stroked his body. "Allow me to pleasure you, sir."

He grabbed her wrist. "No. You don't have to. Not tonight. I just want to hold you. Okay, Rowan?"

She smiled at him. "Would you like my name to be Rowan?"

He blinked at her.

"What am I doing?" he whispered.

The avatar touched his cheek. "You are embarking on the erotic adventure of a lifetime, courtesy of Electric Drea—"

Bay pulled off his helmet.

He ripped off his sensors.

A robotic voice emerged from the helmet at his feet. "No refunds. Please visit Doctor Tingle at booth 17 for all your sexual dysfunction needs."

Bay kicked the helmet across the room.

He knelt on the carpet, head lowered.

From across the hive rose the sounds of sin. Aliens cheered as one gladiator slew another. Bay closed his eyes and clenched his fists until both hands hurt.