When the urge to vomit passed and the fevered trembling ended, Claire would lie back and try to think of nice things. Every night, as she stared at Corday's ceiling, the boy's snores eventually turned into the sound of far more masculine breaths the moment sleep came upon her again. The sensation of a warm hand stroking her hair to soothe her, her unconscious desire to hear only a moment of purrs... One small slip and the dream would invade again; a dozen times a night, a hundred? It felt like a never-ending loop.
The sun would rise and so would Claire, more tired than the day before. Corday noticed it too, she could tell by the way he darted subtle glances at her, how he skirted the walls and made sure not to get too close. Neither of them spoke of her degradation; after all, what was the point? It was not until the fifth day—when Corday told her that he would not be back until morning—that the Beta reached into his pocket and pulled out a circular, white pill.
"This will help you sleep, if you want it."
With a conciliatory smile, he left it on the counter and wished her a good day. Claire didn't touch it, found herself far too mesmerized by the round pharmaceutical and how much trouble they had turned out to be in her life. The temptation to drop it down the sink was as strong as the temptation to swallow it immediately.
All day that little pill stared at her. Her fingers curled at the edge of the counter, Claire crouched down to be at eye-level with the little white temptation. What if she took it and sleep did come? What if the dream came with it, and she could not wake up to save herself from taking those final steps towards a man the manipulative pair-bond was twisting into a savior? What if she took a whole bottle of pills?
In the end, when the dark came, she did not take the little white pill; she hid it instead. Lying in the darkness, buried under heaps of blankets, Claire closed her eyes and the same movie played on repeat in her mind. Silver eyes, an outreached hand, villains and smoke... only that night, each time she woke there was no snoring anchor in the corner of the room for her to pace her heartbeats to. Curled up and delirious from days without rest, she felt she was going mad, hearing things, confused. As the hours stretched by, Claire realized with a creeping apprehension that it was Shepherd's raspy breath she kept imagining in the corner, not the Beta's snores; Shepherd's hand she almost believed was stroking her hair.
She felt in her bones that if she could only hear a few moments of that purr, untroubled sleep would come at last.Chapter 5"Shepherd's genetic markers do not match any prisoner on record. I am telling you," Brigadier Dane was adamant, "he was not incarcerated in the Undercroft."
Corday had heard a thousand explanations; not one of them was possible. Outside the Dome spread one hundred kilometers of frozen tundra in every direction, the location of Thólos chosen specifically so any potential diseased wanderers could never survive approach. Everything inside was self-sustaining, and only twice in his lifetime had shuttles been permitted to land. All on board had been female, citizens from other biospheres invited to Thólos Dome to keep the gene pool fresh.
Those who came never left, just as those who had left to serve the same duty on foreign soil would never return.
Scans for all new arrivals were vigorous; there was no way any unexpected life-form could have passed the gates. Even so, the last exchange had been nearly a decade ago.
Voicing his opinion to the few Enforcer stragglers gathered in secret, Corday disagreed. "The man is covered in Da'rin markings. He was branded by the gangs in the Undercroft and labored down there long enough to organize outcasts into an army, to have constructed numerous tunnels that had gone unnoticed all throughout Thólos."
Brigadier Dane was not exactly a fan of Recruit Corday; her patience with the young man was slender. "Then explain why he doesn't exist on record."
Corruption was a disease even the Dome could not filter out. Jaw rigid, Corday said, "Because someone threw him down there off record."
"If that was the case, others would have known. You can't just march down those tunnels dragging a man behind you; the security protocols alone would have been logged. If a soul had gone missing, people would have noticed. What you suggest would require a conspiracy of epic proportions."
There was one man in the room who had the power and the clearance to know. Several sets of eyes turned to Senator Kantor, all of them demanding he confirm that no such atrocity was possible.