AMNESIA
Page 14
“Try harder, Amber,” he always said.
She heard the thump of loud music and smiled, abandoning her chair at the dressing table. She ignored the vision of her mother and pulled the lace curtain aside, wondering how long the neighbor’s party would last before Travis or James summoned the police. Her neighbor was a couple of years younger than she was and shared his accommodation with a few other university students. He stood at the pool, drink in hand, shaking his hips to the beat as he called his friends out to join him.
She knew the party would go downhill quickly. Very soon the girls would arrive and the music would get louder as they played stupid drinking games and laughed so loudly that she would join them as she lay alone in her bed. She dropped the curtain, ignored the hovering Lilith, and lay down.
She was lucky to have Travis, she reminded herself again. She had stability and a fiancé who adored her. She didn’t have the hot embraces she witnessed at the pool. She had tender, loving ones. She may not lose herself in wild abandon like the girls below, but she also didn’t end up crying when passion faded and the boy moved on.
No.
She was fortunate; she told herself that again when Lilith sat at her bedside and whispered to her as she always did.
“You are special, Amber, your role is important; you will bring about a change that alters history and time.”
She stared at her vision of Lilith in sad resignation.
Her mother’s words were either claims of grandeur or the reciting of stupid rhymes that made no sense.
Amber knew them by heart.
The Great Pink Cloud
Announced the end of rest
Four key holders
Protected by the best
Unlocking slowly
The gates to his respite
Free the Grand Wraith
And pray he does not fight
That night, however, her mother said something different. It made her jerk and turn on her side to ignore her. “You will experience a passion far greater than the girls you covet when he is finally summoned to protect you. You will feel all that you long for. It will all be yours.”
Amber decided it was time to put the pillow on her head when her mother began to glow a strange green hue. This was a new addition to her insane visions. Yes, tomorrow she would go to James and beg him to up her dose.
* * *
Two days went by quickly and soon she stood at Travis’s side, entering one of their grounded spacecrafts on NASA land. Amber learned that this open meeting was to be less formal than others, attended by only a few Thromians. The agenda, as requested by the committee, concerned minority allocation and culture. There were days left before the mass evacuation was finalized and Travis said the subjects of “how” and “who” were still ongoing and important.
Excitement was an understatement, despite her initial reserve that she would embarrass Travis with her youth. She upped her dosage the day before and endured James looking at her with disdain. “This really isn’t the time for a relapse, Amber. Travis needs you to be fully coherent and strong. This is a very important phase for him politically.”
She would not let Travis down.
Amber relished every part of the smooth journey until they shot out of the atmosphere. Even then, after a few minor bumps, their entry into space was fluid and majestic. She thought the surge out of Earth’s atmosphere would be taxing on her body and was certain she would feel nausea and weightlessness, but the transition was uneventful. The sensation was similar to that of a normal airplane take-off. The sight of the main ship in space shocked her, however. It looked like a city, floating quietly and ominously behind the shadow of the moon. A small opening revealed itself on the craft’s side and they floated inside, touching down with only a slight bump. Once they disembarked, she moved with the crowd, surprised to find it much like an airport. Those who walked around were all uniformed and Thromian.
Amber was overwhelmed when she first set eyes on them. Unusually large with muscular builds, they were something to behold. They were strangely graceful in their movements and tall. Despite their strength and size, they moved fluidly. Their faces, however, made her catch her breath; they were beautifully defined and almost feminine. She wanted to stare, to take it all in, but noted that the other females in Travis’s party kept their heads slightly lifted. Haughty and proud, they walked with a purpose. She did the same, remembering her role as Travis’s partner. They were to attend a meeting first, followed by a dinner, and Amber walked proudly beside Travis as they all filtered down a long passageway to the allocated room that held an amazing view of space. She was disappointed to learn that she would not be seated with Travis, but realized that any spot would give her an opportunity to observe, and she was grateful for this. She took her place as they entered and sat silently as the negotiations began.
* * *
The meeting room was large, at least the size of a basketball court with a deck in the center and seats to the side. On a holographic screen in the middle of the table, the humans displayed a presentation of what they wanted to address that day. The negotiating humans quickly embraced the technology the aliens were happy to share. As the proceedings started, Amber thought their expectations, questions, and concerns were well-presented. She noticed the Thromians who bore white epaulettes seemed engaged. The others – in red, green, and blue – showed little or no response. Travis told her that the Thromian Monarchy was currently constitutional as opposed to historically autocratic. There were four political groups controlling Throm. Their adoration for their personal affiliation was clear, and they wore their colors proudly on the shoulders of their otherwise black uniforms.
Those who wore pearl white were the most interested in preserving Earth culture and heritage. The House of White was reserved for those in the occupations of science, technology, and philosophy. Amber compared them to humanitarians, for their interest lay in diplomacy and cooperation. The Red were followers of the current reigning Monarch, named Gilroth, and there was a small representation of their party on board the ship. Travis said those who wore red were staunch supporters of Thromian tradition and culture and had a huge civilian following.
The remainder were the Green party of the armed forces and the Blue of the air force, including those who worked directly in affiliated trades.
* * *
Amber felt a little odd in the group that sat around the table. The other females in the negotiating team were in their late 50s, faces lined with age and experience. Some eyed her curiously at first until reminded that Travis was engaged to Dr. James's young daughter and then they accepted her presence. She wished that she were older and that she did not stand out, but she set her inferiority aside to stare at the Thromians, for she was now close enough to view them properly. Travis told her that they had interbred with another nation centuries before, which had caused them to evolve from being mere human beings to an enhanced version. They were the only colony of humans who had escaped Earth’s cyclical fate that evolved in this way. The other two remained unchanged.
Whomever Throm had mixed their genes with had made them beautifully powerful. They were all large in stature, muscular, tall, and strong. The females were athletic and lithe, and their feminine beauty lay in their glowing manes, which cascaded to their waists, out of place in the vision of strength they presented. The males also favored long hair, beautiful thick tresses that hung to their shoulders or brushed their jaws. Their faces were the most striking, though.
Their eyes curved ever so slightly in a feline way and, despite the muscular bulk of their bodies, their features were refined. Thromians had neat sculpted noses and perfectly formed lips and teeth. Amber had not seen one who was unattractive or misshapen. Their eyes astounded her. The pupils had a different shape; up close she saw that they changed color as they spoke, indicating their present moods and emotions. The myriad colors when they were not carefully gauging their response were quite heady to witness.
* * *
Amber could not wait to see the enigmatic leader who awed Travis. His name was Lord Wrexel – the commander of this mission, the head of the Thromian Army, and a royal prince.
She mentally prepared herself for his arrival, looking expectantly at the sliding entry door.
Nothing could have adequately prepared her for his arrival, however, and Amber smothered a gasp when he finally arrived.
11
The World Stood Still
His size struck her first.
At least seven foot tall, he was bigger and more powerful than his kind, just as Travis suggested. She strained to see past those who stood when he arrived but received only an eyeful when the discussion continued and everybody sat down.
Then his youth shocked her. When Travis spoke of his commanding presence, she imagined him aged and harsh-looking.
He was the exact opposite.
He was indeed arrogant and wildly intimidating, but his face was unlined and his eyes clear and penetrating. His presence was exactly as Travis had described. Enigmatically captivating.
He was also the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.
Perfectly aligned features, exotic feline eyes, he demanded attention.
She sat riveted, staring at him in awe.
He looked rather disinterested and participated only when prompted in the surrounding conversation. He worked on a device before him and at times raised his head to roam lazily over the speakers who politely and sometimes heatedly exchanged their views. Pitch-black hair moved like silk over his shoulders and, try as she might, Amber could not stop looking at him. Captivating was an understatement. His entire being projected power. She lost total interest in the arguments Travis consolidated, no matter how much she tried. Her attempts to focus and concentrate on the subject at hand were destroyed by Wrexel’s presence.
She watched him without pause, could not stop herself from observing everything about him. She wanted to see his eyes change color like those of his peers did. It would be especially riveting in him.
Would they alter at the table? He seemed so unaffected by everything around him.
Could her heart stand it if they did?
She started to berate herself for her strong reaction to him when suddenly he stared right back at her.
Her whole body responded to his gaze, and she had to drag her eyes away. She struggled to slow down the erratic change to both her heartbeat and breathing. His effect on her was so intense, it scared her. Eventually, she found the courage to lift her gaze toward him, and her breath caught once more as he returned her gaze with equal interest. His eyes gleamed, and she pressed her palms onto her thighs as they held each other’s gaze. It became too much for her and, like a coward, she looked away and back again, but his glance never faltered or moved from hers. She wasn’t quite sure what she should do. She was never good at staring games and had failed hopelessly at hiding her hungry curiosity from him. He slowly ran his eyes over her body and she tingled with pleasure.
This was not normal!
* * *
She shifted uncomfortably, trying to deny the squirm that yearned to surface out of embarrassment at her reaction. The alien leader’s eyes seemed to linger on her legs and then they moved up to her chest. She noticed a slight movement of his head as he honed in on her curves. A frown of interest settled on his face and his mouth turned up at the corners ever so slightly, leaving her wondering if he was giving her a mocking smile. The change was so small, she couldn’t be sure.
Oh, God.
Amber regretted choosing the red blouse. Travis was right; it showed cleavage and wasn’t appropriate for a meeting of this kind. It had never fit her properly and yet she stubbornly hung onto it because it was her favorite color. One small rebellion that she clung to amongst the constant agreements to his will. She realized Wrexel was paying special attention to her breasts, and her cheeks turned the same hue as her shirt. Her body responded as if he had touched her and she fought back the urge to cross her arms over her bosom. His appreciative gaze was heady. Travis never leered at her that way.
It was inappropriate.
It was also so deeply approving and male that a shiver of pleasure coursed through her.
She glanced around the group to be sure they hadn’t noticed anything, but they were intrigued by the proceedings. She hoped that when she glanced back, his interest would have moved on and then quickly retracted her prayer. She wanted to see the deeply appreciative looks again.
No, this was wrong!
A woman betrothed should not look at another the way she looked at Wrexel. He caused her to feel things she should not. Looking at somebody attractive wasn’t supposed to make your mouth go dry, your hands quiver, your palms sweat, and your nipples tighten. She decided her main aim for the remainder of the meeting was to ensure that she never looked his way again. Wrexel made her think of all the things she kept hidden. A decadence she always denied.
Travis wasn’t young, but he was handsome and she was attracted to him. Men who threw your mind into a somersault were nothing but trouble. She was glad this would be her one and only meeting with him, for there was something about Wrexel that terrified and thrilled her, sending her thoughts to a place where they should not venture. Those secret little moments when she witnessed passion on television or at her neighbors’ pool and wished she could feel the reckless abandon they did.
She folded her arms with resolve and berated herself.
She was engaged to Travis.
She would do well to remember this.
* * *
Wrexel was enjoying the change of atmosphere in the room he referred to as verbal death. Inndra was insistent that he show his face at some meetings and he did so when the evacuation procedures bored him. Tonight he did not regret this decision. Thus far, he had found human females to be quite unattractive; even in Diogel when he encountered second and third colonials, they hardly turned his head. Possibly because those he met were in government or the army, much like the ones he’d had to deal with on a daily basis since his arrival on current Earth. He wasn’t a dead line purist like his brother Shihlo but he had never been drawn to a colonial or human enough to invite them into his bed. He lacked respect for them, finding their weakness unappealing and preferring the strength of his own kind.
But this…
This one was different.
She stared at him with open abandon and admiration. She wasn’t comfortable with her awareness, though, and her pulse fluttered in her throat as she tried in vain to stop looking at him. He found it quite amusing, but at the same time she was provoking an equally strong reaction in him.
She was beautiful.
Gentle features, blue eyes, and hair that fell in brown waves over her shoulders, framing the perfect and full breasts that made his hand twitch. She was young, oddly out of place amongst the grey-haired seniors. Perhaps a daughter of one of the boring dignitaries? He liked how her throat moved convulsively and how she tried in vain to look with interest at those around her instead of at him, but he was patient and soon her soft gaze curiously sought his again. He almost smiled when she squirmed in her seat and then grimaced when the slight movement drew his eyes back to her curves.
He was used to Thromian lovers and enjoyed them, but the softness of her body beckoned to him and he lost the battle to remain unmoved by anything human on this trip. She wet her lips, and he almost rolled his eyes. God, she challenged his ability to hold back the telltale violet from exploding in his gaze. Desire, urgent and encompassing, filled his senses in a way that disoriented him. She was
looking for trouble if she kept this up. He had ways to make her disappear from this group for a few hours.
* * *
The gathering finally ended.
Amber felt as if she had run a marathon. She was ready to bolt for the transporter but Travis insisted she go with him to say his goodbyes. He tucked her hand under his arm and, to her dismay, moved her forward to bid Wrexel a good night, proudly smiling as she gripped his forearm.
“Wrexel, please meet my fiancée, Amber.” Travis approached him and patted her hand to remind her not to extend it in a handshake.
Thromians didn’t like to touch hands.
Amber didn’t think she would survive if they did.
Wrexel slowly turned around.
She knew her gaze was wild with interest but she could not help herself. She had been wondering since she left the meeting if he looked the same up close. She needed to ascertain whether her mind played tricks on her. Their eyes locked, and they looked wordlessly at each other. She would have moaned with dismay if she hadn’t been fighting for control.
He was more beautiful and surreal than distance portrayed.
She tried in vain to read his expression as he stared calmly back at her. Finally, Wrexel nodded in impassive acknowledgement of the introduction. Amber’s hand jerked on Travis’s arm, the urge to flee once again making her fidget. To her dismay, Travis released her and moved on a step, leaving Amber awkwardly before Wrexel. She did not know where to look or how to stand. Her hands lifted and then dropped; she wasn’t sure if she should fold her arms or if she should tuck them behind her. He, annoyingly, did not utter a word as she suffered before him! Say something, she urged herself.