Repatriate Protocol Box Set

  Choosing

  Book Four of the Repatriate Protocol Series

  Kelli Kimble

  Choosing

  Copyright © 2018 by Kelli Kimble

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper of Victoria CooperArt

  Editing by Abigail Stefaniak of AbbeyEdits

  Purging

  Copyright © 2018 by Kelli Kimble

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper of Victoria CooperArt

  Editing by Abigail Stefaniak of AbbeyEdits

  Searching

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Kimble

  Cover design by Victoria Cooper of Victoria CooperArt

  Editing by Abigail Stefaniak of AbbeyEdits

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  For Bill, Brian, and Lydia

  Read the entire Repatriate Protocol series:

  Repatriate Protocol (Book One)

  Expatriates (Book Two)

  Volunteers (Book Three)

  Choosing (Book Four)

  Purging (Book Five)

  Searching (Book Six)

  Evolution (Book Seven)

  Reclamation (Book Eight)

  Redemption (Book Nine)

  Chapter 1

  It was easy to spot him across the field. He didn’t even bother trying to stay in cover. I stooped to drop a seed from my staff into the hole. In the time it took me to toe dirt over the seed and raise my eyes again, he was halfway across the field. I glanced left and right, but none of the others were close by.

  He stopped in front of me, blocking the row that I still needed to finish planting by sundown.

  “What do you want, Orion?” I said. Might as well get this over with.

  He smirked. “I came to tell you I can’t wait for the choosing tomorrow. I’m going to pick you, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll accept.”

  “Why should I accept you? You haven’t fathered any children.”

  The smirk faded from his face and his hand darted out, lightning fast. He twined his fingers into my hair and pulled me towards him. Without any assistance nearby, I bent to his will.

  “You and your first-family expectations sicken me. I’m not choosing you for children. I’m choosing you to put you in your place, and you’re going to like it. You’re going to beg for it.” He pulled me even closer, and his breath nearly made me gag. “You are going to be humbled,” he hissed.

  I lowered my eyes.

  “What’ve you got to say now? Huh?” He shook me so hard that I bit my tongue.

  “Nothing, Orion,” I said.

  “What’s that? What’re you going to do at the choosing?”

  “Accept you, Orion.”

  The smirk returned. “That’s right. You’re going to accept me. Nod if you agree.”

  I nodded, and he loosened his hand from my hair. He grasped at my chest through my tunic. I felt color rise into my face.

  “Yeah, I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “Orion! Get back to your post!” shouted the guard on duty. “She has work to do!”

  He twisted at my breast before letting go. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Fiona.” He turned and swaggered back into the forest.

  I stabbed my staff into the dirt, making a hole that was too deep for the seed that I dropped into it. But, I didn’t care. I couldn’t go with Orion for the choosing tomorrow. I wouldn’t. Not just because he’d threatened me with abusive treatment, but because I knew he would withhold a child from me. And if I didn’t bear a child this choosing, I would be condemned to a difficult life of hard work and little joy.

  ◆◆◆

  I stood in line with the other women, my heavy, leather cloak over my shoulders. It hid my nakedness beneath, which I was grateful for. Some of the other women left their cloaks open or even thrown over their shoulders to proudly display their signs of having successfully borne a child. But no such signs were visible on my own body.

  The ceremony began, and the man with the highest rank went first. Technically, as the only remaining member of the first family in the choosing, I had the highest female rank. But, I knew he wouldn’t choose me. I had no children to recommend me. He passed me by without even a glance.

  One by one, the women around me were chosen. I felt alone, left on an island. The choosing was almost finished, and I would be forced to accept Orion. He stood impatiently in last place, having never fathered a child through multiple choosings. Each time I glanced over, he was sneering at me.

  A trickle of sweat ran between my shoulder blades. Maybe I should refuse him. Maybe a life as the queen’s slave would be better.

  My mind wandered back to when I’d last seen the queen. She’d summoned me, and I was nervous.

  “Fiona. I understand you are still without child.”

  I tipped my head forward to look at the ground, as we were supposed to do when addressing her. “Yes, my queen. That’s true.”

  She sighed. “That won’t do. Who will take my place when the time comes? You cannot ascend if you don’t bear a child.”

  “Yes, my queen.”

  “I’ll see to it that you are allowed to participate in another choosing. But don’t disappoint me. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, afraid to verbalize my agreement. How on Earth could I have guaranteed such a thing?

  A voice broke through my thoughts.

  “Are you all right, Fiona?” A man other than Orion had stopped before me. My heart skipped a beat.

  “Yes, yes. I’m fine.” I tried not to appear eager.

  He leaned in so that his hood shadowed his face, and I could make out only his eyes and the flash of his teeth and tongue as he spoke.

  “Are you willing to be chosen?” he whispered.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I have plans.”

  “What kind of plans?”

  “We can’t talk about it here. If you would like to be chosen, then accept me.” He stepped back and reached out with his right hand. “If you will accept, I have chosen you.”

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Orion’s face. His mouth was drawn down in fury.

  I took his hand. “I accept.”

  The crowd cheered, and we were whisked to a waiting wagon. We were jostled in, and two boys drew the wagon to our assigned choosing hut. The curtain was drawn back, and we were pushed inside roughly by the boys.

  The fire was lit in the center pit, and a bed pallet was spread on the floor beside the fire. Two elder women were waiting for me. One removed my cloak and rubbed scented oil over my skin. The other loosed my blonde hair from its binding and combed it down my back. They took me to the bed pallet and seated me on my knees. One handed me the ritual oil pot. It felt substantial in my hand, though it was small. I set it beside myself, and the elder women retreated from the hut.

  On the other side of the fire, he was undergoing the same preparations. At least, his attendants were trying to prepare him. He twisted away as they tried to oil his skin.

  “That really isn’t necessary. I’d just like to be alone with her, if I could?”


  “The ceremony demands that you be oiled,” said one of the attendants.

  He shook his head. “The ceremony has no bearing on whether or not she gets pregnant. All of you, please just go.”

  But, the attendants persisted.

  “If you’d just allow them to do what they require, they would already be done,” I said.

  Defeated, he stood still and allowed the oil to be applied. The light from the fire reflected in the ridges of his muscles. At least I hadn’t been chosen by a soft-bellied man this time.

  The attendants walked him over to stand before me. He was supposed to have his stamen anointed with the ritual oil so that the planting would bear fruit. But as I reached for the pot, he stopped me.

  “No. Don’t do that.”

  I stiffened, my hand frozen over the pot. Behind him, the attendants paused at the door.

  He turned and looked at the attendants. “Go on, then. We want to be alone.”

  They glanced at each other but then, one shrugged his shoulders, and they left.

  He sat on the pallet beside me. “Maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Elliot.” He reached out with his hand to shake mine.

  “Fiona,” I said, meeting his grasp. His hand was rough but warm.

  “I know who you are,” he said. “You’re the last of the first family. Except for Queen Monica, of course.”

  “Right.”

  “You must be wondering why I chose you.”

  “I assume it’s because you want to raise your status by being the man who fathers the next member of the first family,” I said. “That’s why everyone else has chosen me.”

  “Nope. I don’t give a rat’s ass about whether you have a baby or not.”

  I blinked several times. “Okay.”

  He settled on the blankets. “I don’t think you’re ready to talk about what I want yet. First, I think we need to get to know each other.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “So, why does Orion want you so bad?”

  I snorted. “He doesn’t want me. He hates me.”

  “I don’t think so. He struck me more as a man in love.” He said it in a teasing tone, but his face looked serious.

  “If that’s love, then I want no part of it. He only wants to abuse me.”

  “Mm. Did he tell you that?”

  “Yes. Look, if you want to talk first, that’s fine. But if we aren’t going to plant, can we cover up?”

  He ignored my question. “He told you that he wanted to abuse you? Why would you let that stand?”

  “Because. . .” I sighed. “If I got him punished, he would only redouble his abuse. He’s nothing more than a bully. Why are we even talking about him?”

  “We’re talking about him because I can tell you’re afraid of him. I could see in your eyes that you were terrified that I would not choose you. He was last, right after me. He was going to choose you, wasn’t he?”

  I shrugged. “So, he claimed. I don’t know what he hoped to gain from such a thing. He wouldn’t have improved his status by trying to hurt mine.”

  Elliot pulled a loose blanket from the bed pallet and settled it over my shoulders.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re planning to plant, right? I mean, this is my last chance. The queen has already broken tradition to allow this extra choosing.”

  He looked away. “Tell me more about yourself. Why don’t I see you with the other women more often?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “You’ll leave me as nothing more than a slave if you don’t.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. His mouth was curled up on one side in a playful grin.

  “You think you don’t have options. You think it’s black or white; bear a child or be a slave. But, it isn’t. The world isn’t that way. Nothing is. There are other courses of action.”

  “You mean like how suicide is a course of action?” I rolled my eyes. “Of course, there are ways out of it. But, none of them leave the first family with its honor.”

  He laughed. “Who cares about the honor of the first family? For more than a hundred years, all they’ve done is keep others under their thumb. There’s nothing honorable about oppression, Fiona.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose up. There was something not right about this. Was he going to kill me? My fear must have shown on my face.

  “Don’t get all upset. I just want to offer you . . .” He swung his hand from side to side. “. . .options.”

  “I don’t see what options you can offer me,” I said. “I’d really just like to get on with the planting.”

  I dropped the blanket he’d draped over me and dipped my fingers into the ritual oil. I reached out to apply the oil, but he batted my hand away. He sat up and grabbed my forearms.

  “I’ll give you a planting if that will make you happy. But, I won’t use this ridiculous oil, and I insist that later, you listen to the options. Do I have your word as a royal member of the first family that later, you will listen and give serious consideration to what I present?”

  “All right,” I said, my voice shaking.

  He pulled me closer. “No. Don’t just agree. Promise.”

  “All right, I promise.”

  He hesitated only a moment more. And then, he was upon me.

  Chapter 2

  In the morning, I woke to an empty hut. The fire was almost dead, but the light creeping in around the door revealed that Elliot was not there. Confused, I set about relighting the fire. Maybe I hadn’t pleased him. The shame of being abandoned after only one night brought tears to my eyes.

  But, I thought he wanted to offer me options.

  Breakfast had been left by the door. I sat next to the fire with it and ate. I was shoveling mushed grain with berries into my mouth when Elliot returned.

  Sunlight flooded the hut when he twitched the door flap aside and came in. It briefly backlit him, and I had to catch my breath. The light created an aura around him. Was it a sign? Would he be the one to save me from slavery?

  “Good morning,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you. Did you sleep well?”

  He hunkered down beside me and accepted the other bowl of grain that I handed him.

  “Yes.” I kept my eyes on my grain.

  “You’re upset.”

  “You—you left.”

  “I just had to go and speak with someone. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

  I nodded and continued to eat, though I slowed my pace. People who participated in the choosing received the best food, only behind the queen’s in quality. Since my failure in the last choosing, I’d been serving in the fields. Field hands were given only bread, weak broth, and milk. If you were lucky, you might forage for some berries or happen across a nest of fat ants, but I was rarely lucky. It took a lot of effort to slow down and chew the mushed grain, now that Elliot was present. First family members were expected to act with decorum and pride. Slopping food greedily into my mouth and swallowing without chewing was not something I should have let him see.

  He frowned. “You’re still upset,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

  “Don’t try to hide behind politeness. What’s the matter?”

  “It’s nothing. Who did you talk to?”

  He put a hand on my arm and turned to look directly into my eyes. “It isn’t nothing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, just tell me so that we can clear the air.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. I didn’t want to reveal my embarrassment, but something about his eyes drew it out of me.

  “I was worried that you’d rejected me. That you revoked your choosing.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve picked you for more than just the choosing.”

  I set my empty bowl down. “Maybe you want to tell me about your plans now.”

  He shook his head. “You aren’t ready. If you thought I would just leave you, then you don’t trust me.�
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  “Maybe I don’t trust you because you haven’t told me.”

  He laughed. “I like you, Fiona. I think the others will, too.”

  The others?

  He handed me a skin. I thought it would be water and drank deeply, but quickly realized it was wine. Warmth flooded me, and my limbs felt oddly weak.

  “Oh, that was wine,” I said, giving it back to him.

  He smiled. “I know. Maybe you need a rest?”

  I crawled over to the bed pallet, not caring about the dirt grinding under my palms and knees. The blankets were disheveled, and I tried to arrange them but couldn’t manage it. Elliot came over and helped. He draped a blanket over me and tucked it under my arms.

  “Oh,” I said, suppressing a belch. “Is it time to plant?”

  He shook his head. “No Fiona. It’s time for you to rest. You’ll understand when you wake.”

  The hut swam around in my vision, alternately blurring and sharpening, until my eyes slid shut.

  The sound wouldn’t stop. It was thumping and loud. My eyes refused to open, and I willed the sound to diminish. But, it kept on. I realized then that it was the sound of my own blood, my heartbeat, in my ear. I shifted, and it faded.

  “She’s waking up,” said someone behind me.

  “No, she can’t be,” said a voice that sounded like Elliot. “She drank a lot of it.”

  The two voices laughed. I struggled to understand what he meant, but my foggy brain prevented me from fully understanding.

  “What’s she like?”

  “Hell-bent on bearing a child; I’ll tell you that.”

  “Must’ve been hard to resist.”

  There was a pause, then laughter.

  “You didn’t resist? You planted with her?”

  “Well—I know I wasn’t supposed to. But . . .” The voice trailed away.

  The two laughed together and stopped abruptly. My head was beginning to spin, and sounds were getting fuzzy.

  “Father,” said Elliot. “Here she is.”

  “I can see that,” a new, heavier voice snapped. “Did my ears deceive me? You planted?”

  Elliot didn’t answer.

  “Elliot.” The voice was calm but clipped. “You used the oil, right?”