The First Repeat

Kyrrha knew the message was trouble before she finished reading it, because Daniel had already seen them five nights earlier, and one of the first rules the three of them had made after discovering just how quickly humans could become attached was that nobody received them twice in the same week, no matter how generous the offer, no matter how charming the client, and certainly not when the message ended with the words all three, double the price . She turned the prepaid phone toward Vaeris and Sileth, who were sitting together on the mattress in the apartment they had managed to rent without identification, references, employment records, or any of the other papers Earth seemed to require before allowing a person to exist properly, and although the place consisted of little more than one bedroom, a narrow kitchen, a bathroom with unreliable hot water, and three mirrors leaning against walls because mirrors mattered more to their work than furniture did, it was theirs, paid weekly in cash to a landlord who believed they were undocumented cousins and had wisely decided not to ask from where. Vaeris read the message and immediately shook her head. “No, because the first time he could barely stop looking at Sileth long enough to speak to either of us, and when a human becomes that interested after one night, returning five days later seems unnecessarily stupid.” Sileth, who was repairing a tiny tear in one of Kyrrha’s stockings because replacing it would cost money they did not have, glanced up with amusement. “He also paid without arguing, tipped more than we asked, arranged the hotel himself, never tried to photograph us, never asked where we came from, and now he is offering twice as much, which makes him considerably less stupid than most humans we have met.” “That does not make him safe.” “No, but it makes him useful.” Kyrrha looked at the small metal container above the refrigerator where they kept their money, then toward the shoes lined carefully beneath the wall because the three of them had already learned that on Earth the difference between being treated as desperate women and expensive women could sometimes be nothing more than the dress, the shoes, and the confidence with which a price was stated. “We need the money.” Vaeris leaned back against the wall and gave her the expression she used whenever Kyrrha had already made a decision while pretending the conversation was still open. “Then why are we discussing it?” “Because I enjoy hearing you object.” “You are becoming very human.” “That was unnecessarily cruel.” Sileth laughed, reached for Kyrrha’s hand, and pulled her down onto the mattress between them. “We go together, we leave together, nobody separates us, Kyrrha touches him first, and if anything feels wrong we walk away even if he puts the money directly into our hands.” Vaeris looked across Kyrrha at her. “And you do not use the Taking unless there is no other choice.” Sileth’s smile disappeared. “I know.” Vaeris reached across and touched her cheek. “I know you know, but I am saying it anyway.” The Taking was what they had begun calling it because there was no human word that described the ability properly, and although everyone of their species possessed some degree of neurological influence through touch, Sileth had always been unusually powerful, able not merely to confuse a recent memory but to pull it away completely, leaving behind a clean absence where minutes or hours had once existed; on their world the ability had been controlled, taught, and rarely needed, while on Earth it had become the thing they feared having to use almost as much as the danger that might force them to use it, because whatever Sileth removed from another mind passed through hers first, and afterward she sometimes needed hours to remember which thoughts belonged to her. “I will not,” she said. Kyrrha kissed her forehead. “Good.” Daniel had booked a suite in one of the expensive hotels where nobody cared who walked through the lobby as long as everyone looked as though they belonged there, and when the elevator opened on the thirty-second floor shortly before midnight, Kyrrha immediately noticed how quiet the corridor was, while Vaeris noticed the camera above the elevator and Sileth noticed that there were four untouched room-service trays outside doors that otherwise showed no sign of life. “This floor feels wrong,” Vaeris murmured. “Everything expensive feels wrong to you.” “Because expensive people hide things better.” “That may be the most intelligent human observation you have made.” “I learned it from you.” Daniel opened the door before they knocked, wearing a dark suit without a tie and smiling with such obvious relief that for half a second Kyrrha wondered whether Vaeris had been overly suspicious, because he seemed exactly as she remembered him except for the excitement in his eyes, and when he stepped aside to let them enter he actually laughed. “You came.” Sileth smiled. “For what you offered, you seemed very determined that we should.” Daniel looked at her and the same expression appeared that Kyrrha remembered from the first night, the strange combination of hunger, amazement, and disbelief that humans seemed unable to hide around Sileth. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t.” Vaeris passed him without smiling. “We almost didn’t.” Daniel glanced at Kyrrha. “Still the suspicious one?” “That is Vaeris.” “I thought you were the suspicious one.” “We take turns.” He laughed again, relaxed enough now that Kyrrha allowed him to close the door, and the next twenty minutes were almost ordinary by the strange standards their new life had established; Daniel poured wine, which Vaeris refused because she preferred to remain completely alert, Sileth teased him about paying twice the price for something he had already experienced, and Kyrrha sat close enough to touch his wrist when he handed her the glass. The contact lasted less than two seconds. She felt anticipation, embarrassment, desire, fear, and something underneath all of it that made her hand tighten around his wrist before she released him. Daniel noticed. “What?” Kyrrha watched his face. “Why are you frightened?” The smile remained, but it became less convincing. “I’m not.” “You are.” Vaeris put down her untouched glass. Daniel sighed and looked from one woman to the next. “This is why I wanted all three of you back, because after the first night I could not stop thinking about you, and I know that sounds pathetic, but I have been with enough women in my life to know the difference between infatuation and something I cannot explain.” Sileth smiled. “That sounds almost romantic.” “It wasn’t meant to.” “Then you should practice.” Daniel looked at her for several seconds, and for a moment Kyrrha felt the fear inside him become stronger. Then someone knocked on the door. Not room service. Three firm knocks. Daniel went pale. Vaeris was already standing. Kyrrha did not take her eyes from Daniel. “Who is that?” “Nobody.” “Daniel.” He stepped backward. “I can explain.” The lock clicked from the outside. Vaeris reached the door just as it opened, and the first man through was large enough that he nearly filled the entrance, dressed in dark civilian clothes but moving with the disciplined confidence of someone accustomed to entering rooms where he expected resistance, while the second man appeared behind him carrying a compact device that Kyrrha did not recognize until he raised it toward Vaeris. Daniel shouted, “Wait, you said nobody would be hurt.” The device cracked. Vaeris convulsed so violently that her shoulder struck the wall before she hit the floor. Sileth screamed her name. Kyrrha moved toward Vaeris, but the first man caught her by the arm and drove her backward against the table, knocking a glass to the carpet, while the second came toward Sileth with the weapon already raised again. “Stay down and nobody gets hurt.” Kyrrha twisted against the hand holding her. “You already hurt her.” “She’ll recover.” Daniel stood frozen beside the sofa, staring at Vaeris as though only now understanding that whatever arrangement he had made was no longer under his control. “You told me you only wanted to talk to them.” The first man barely looked at him. “We do.” “Then why the hell did you—” “Daniel, shut up.” Sileth had backed against the window, one hand covering her mouth, and Kyrrha knew the expression on her face because she had seen it only twice in their lives together, once when they were children and once during the journey that had stranded them on Earth. Fear had reached the point where thought was disappearing. “Sileth,” Kyrrha said carefully, “look at me.” The second man grabbed her wrist. That was his mistake. Sileth reacted before anyone could stop her, twisting her hand around his and gripping him skin to skin, while Vaeris, still trembling on the floor, managed one broken word. “No.” The man jerked once. Then again. His eyes widened. Sileth gasped as though she had been struck. The weapon fell from his hand. He stared at her. “What—” His face emptied. Not unconsciousness. Something worse. He looked around the suite, saw Daniel, saw Kyrrha, saw the man holding her, and then looked at his own hands as though they belonged to someone else. “Where am I?” Sileth released him and stumbled backward. The man looked terrified. “Where am I?” His partner swore, shoved Kyrrha aside, and reached for Sileth. Vaeris caught his ankle from the floor. He kicked her away. Daniel moved. It was not heroic and certainly not graceful, but he grabbed the heavy wine bottle from the table and smashed it across the man’s shoulder hard enough to spin him around, which gave Kyrrha the half second she needed to drive both hands into his chest and send him backward over the chair. “Get them out,” Daniel shouted. Kyrrha dropped beside Vaeris. “Can you stand?” “I can if you stop asking me.” “That sounds promising.” Together she hauled her upright, and Vaeris immediately looked past her toward Sileth, who had sunk against the window with both hands pressed against her temples. “Sileth.” No response. Vaeris crossed the room despite the tremor still running through her legs, pulled Sileth into her arms, and Sileth made a frightened sound that neither of them had ever heard from her before. “Don’t touch me.” Vaeris froze. “Sileth?” “Don’t.” Kyrrha felt something inside her turn cold. The man who had been Taken was still standing in the middle of the room asking where he was, Daniel was wrestling with the other attacker near the sofa, and somewhere in the hallway another door slammed hard enough to tell Kyrrha there might be more coming. “We leave now.” Vaeris did not argue. Between them they got Sileth into the corridor, down the service stairs, through a kitchen full of startled hotel employees, and into the street without anyone managing to stop them, although Vaeris nearly collapsed twice and Sileth spent the entire escape clinging to Kyrrha’s arm while refusing to look at Vaeris. They did not speak properly until they were back inside the apartment with the door locked, the curtains closed, and the prepaid phone broken into three pieces because whatever Daniel had done, whatever those men had known, their old arrangements were finished. Vaeris sat on the floor with her back against the mattress while Kyrrha knelt in front of Sileth, who had finally stopped shaking but still looked as though she had awakened in somebody else’s life. Kyrrha took both her hands. “Tell me your name.” Sileth swallowed. “Sileth.” “Where are we?” “Our apartment.” “Where?” “Earth.” Kyrrha closed her eyes briefly. “What do we do here?” Sileth gave her a weak, almost embarrassed smile. “Things I would rather not explain while my head feels like this.” Kyrrha laughed despite herself, then leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Sileth’s. “You know me?” “Kyrrha.” The relief was so immediate that Kyrrha had to look away. Then Vaeris spoke from behind her. “And me?” Sileth turned. For several seconds she simply looked at her. Vaeris smiled cautiously. “Come on, love, this is not funny.” Sileth’s expression did not change. She looked at the woman who had slept beside her for most of her adult life, the woman whose body she could normally recognize in darkness from the rhythm of a single breath, and slowly pulled her hands away from Kyrrha. “I’m sorry.” Vaeris stopped smiling. Sileth looked at Kyrrha in genuine confusion. “Who is she?”