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would buy several conveyance animals. He owned her. He would not release her.
    A measure of his rage receded as the tech’s words resounded in his memory. “The director meant to avail himself of her.” He rounded on Omra. “Did the director use you after I left yesterday?”
    “He intended to but did not get the chance,” Omra answered. “Your guards interrupted him.”
    On that happenstance, Sival would live. But Dak would make sure that he would never set foot inside a BCF again.
    * * * *
    The way Omra squinted in the midday sun revealed she did not spend much time in the fresh air. Neither did he. Governing his province and ensuring peace and discipline in the region consumed his days, most of which were spent inside government edifices or on the dreary sky station. They could have zipped home in a fraction of the time on the fission-propelled sky tram, but the opportunity to travel through the countryside proved too enticing to resist. He could not recall his last respite. That the conveyance would allow more time to evaluate Omra before handing her off to Corren provided another incentive.
    He charged toward his transportation, Omra trotting to keep up with his long, brisk stride. Eyes wild in their woolly faces, the beasts vibrated with pent-up energy and stomped the dirt with their massive hooves. Sharp horns protruded from their heads. The air around them reeked of sulfur, a byproduct of their exhalations. Dangerous animals, particularly during mating season. At Omra’s approach, they tossed their heads and snorted, her unfamiliar scent inciting their unrest.
    He grabbed the heavy reins and vaulted into the seat. “Get on.”
    Omra moved to climb into the wooden, rough-hewn bed, but he motioned her forward. “Up front. With me,” he ordered, and added, “this time.” Females rode in back with supplies and equipment, but he wanted to inform her of the rules without having to yell over his shoulder.
    Warily she eyed the fidgeting animals—and him—but stepped to the front of the conveyance. The vehicle, built to suit the size of the beasts, had not been a problem for his long legs but stymied her efforts. On her fifth attempt to scramble aboard, he sighed, grabbed her arm, and hauled her onto the seat.
    She squeaked, and amusement tickled the corner of his mouth. Silly female. After she settled, he flicked the reins and barked an order at the animals, and off they went. Omra sat, as tense as a spring, clenching her hands in her lap. When they pulled out of the tall electrified gates encompassing the perimeter of the BCF, she twisted around and watched until the compound disappeared from sight. Only then did she relax and face forward.
    His conveyance had the finest suspension system available, and centuries of traffic had packed the road, but a fair amount of jolting and jostling occurred as they moved at a moderate rate of speed. He couldn’t help but notice how Omra’s breasts, one bared, one covered by the rough fabric of her thigh-length smock, bounced with every bump. Breasts. He stifled a derisive snort. Surely nature could have devised a better way to nurture the young. A female’s mammary glands jiggled in such an unrestrained, untamed way. Like breeders themselves would be if not disciplined.
    He surveyed the verdant foliage, the trees, the meadows of grass and wildflower, a stream coursing alongside the road. Serene. Beautiful. For the tranquility the countryside evoked, he’d chosen the conveyance, but due to the distraction of Omra, it failed to work its magic. Though small by Parseon standards, her breasts swelled larger and bouncier than most, and her nipples were thicker and longer. Sunlight glinted off his insignia piercing the right one, bringing to mind the ring through her sex. A first order of business would be to replace it with his. Sival had trespassed upon his property. How many others might be tempted to do likewise? Omra attracted trouble like an apian insect to a honeyed