over the years,” Archon admitted. “It’s such a strange little planet, they never seem to notice.”
“I thought there was an accord to avoid that planet.”
“It is within my borders, technically, and I have every right not only to visit it, but to use it as I see fit.”
“Hey, don’t worry, I won't tell,” Dominax smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”
There was a wicked glint in the king’s eye which suggested absolutely nothing and nobody was safe with him. Iris had to trust that Archon knew what he was doing. She had experience with one corrupt, powerful male which landed her in the dungeon. Gods only knew what Dominax would do with a human if he had the chance.
“Is there somewhere else I can be?” She murmured the question in Archon’s ear.
“Actually, you and I should be getting ready. We will need to change our clothes.”
“These clothes are strange.”
She didn’t like the clothes. She also didn’t like the green and blue ball they were in orbit around. It looked strange and vaguely untrustworthy, even at a distance. Iris was working hard on not getting her hopes up. She did not believe, for a single second, that she was actually going to see her family again. She did not truly believe that Archon had saved them. But some small part of her insisted on holding onto the hope that he was not a complete bloody liar.
“Those clothes are jeans and a t-shirt. They are a common form of apparel, and they will ensure that you blend in.”
“And these rubber shoes?”
“Those are sneakers. They are comfortable, allegedly.”
“I don’t like this place. It is strange.”
“It is where your family have settled, and it is where they will stay. They can never return to Zeta and tell the others there of far off planets and the future which is yet to arrive.”
“Is this how you did it?”
“How I did what?”
“Became king? This is where all the other royals went, isn’t it? All the ones that disappeared? All the ones you are supposed to have killed? You didn’t kill them. Did you?”
Archon smiled.
“You're not brutal, are you. I mean, except with me, obviously. You’re smart.”
Archon tapped her nose with a clawed finger. “I am both. But I am the second before I am the first. Life is easier that way.”
He led her to a room marked “TRANSPORTER BAY” and made her stand on a glowing disc. Iris did as she was told, lost in her thoughts, and paying little attention as the ship seemed to phase out around them and was replaced by a room with a lot of soft furnishings.
There was still so much to forgive. Far more than she thought she was capable of forgiving. The shame. The pain. The public humiliation. The sexual conquest. Archon had shown her his darkest and most terrible sides, he had given her the full benefit of the reality of his monstrous soul. And yet there was something between them, a connection which had no reason to exist.
She looked around herself in concern, temporarily distracted from her emotional quandry by the odd place.
“Why is everything in here stuffed? Are these trophies the inhabitants have killed?”
“No,” Archon laughed. “This is Earth-human furniture. They like padding on almost everything except dining chairs for some reason.”
“Where is my family?”
“Your father runs a dry cleaner, a place people have their clothes cleaned. Your aunts have a small shop which sells crystals and herbal remedies. Your brothers and sisters are being educated in the ways of this world.”
“I want to see them.”
“That is the rub.”
“The what now?”
“In order for them to fit into this world, I erased the memories of the one they lived in before. I also had the basic programming of this culture installed. They know only this new reality…”
“Which I am not part of.” She finished his sentence for him.
“I could make some adjustments, but it would not be the same as it was. I cannot return them to the same emotional states as they experienced in your world. If I did, there would be a chance of the programming crashing. They might go, for want of a better term, insane, if they tried to blend both realities.”
“I’m not insane, and I am aware of both.”
“You are a somewhat rare creature, Iris. You are one of nature’s rebels. You are uncomfortable everywhere and anywhere, so it does not matter to you what world you are on, or time you are in.”
“Nice of you to decide that for me,” she