AMNESIA

by Canada Jackson

  Wrexel stood up and leaned on his desk, speaking in a low, ominous tone. “Soon, Whyle, a Red Thromian will not be considered a Thromian at all and if you do not start to listen to my demand for civil war, I will resort to tactics that will force you to.”

  Whyle frowned. “So it’s your way or nothing. Sounds familiar, like you are truly the Monarch’s son!”

  Wrexel flinched at the insult. “I want the opposite of everything he stands for, Whyle. The longer you and Shihlo hold back, the more his strength grows and very soon you will run out of solutions to fix the shitstorms he causes.”

  He clicked another button and the numbers that projected every month in every city in Throm appeared on the screen.

  House of Green 21, House of White 14, House of Blue 18, House of Red 47.

  “A few percent since the previous full moon ceremony is not a big enough gap for me! Now if you don’t mind, I have a dinner to plan and hopefully a really tasty desert.”

  As he left, his communicator lit up once again. The Yimmyrd sent an urgent request for a conference. Whyle sighed and ignored it; Wrexel’s comment about doing something to make them reconsider bothered him more than the Yimmyrd call.

  12

  Dangerous Encounters

  The trip went by quickly this time and she wasn’t awestruck, having been through it before. They flowed through the process of landing and walking to the room where they would be spending the night with Wrexel. The atmosphere seemed less austere than before, but nervous unease still reigned within her as they approached the dinner table.

  Amber was struck by the ornate arrangement of the table, quite out of place in terms of her usual military perception of the Thromians. She was removed from Travis’s side and seated beside a Thromian woman who seemed less than pleased to be there.

  “Hello, my name is Amber,” she said politely, looking at the woman’s slender but muscular arm as she reached for a clear jug of rose liquid.

  “Hello, Amber.” The woman poured herself a glass and eyed Amber sardonically.

  Her hair was the same length as that of most of the Thromian males and it lay in a dark sheen like Wrexel’s. She was attractive, with arresting features. The slanting cat eyes were unusual on the men but on her, they were striking. She had a full mouth and blue eyes framed with long lashes. Her actions were extremely graceful and Amber expected a similar attitude, so she tried to converse with her.

  She noted four crests and pictures on the wall and used them for conversation. “I recognize Wrexel, but who are the other three depicted? What are those glowing symbols beneath?”

  The woman tilted her head, irritated by the question. “The Monarch and his sons, each a representative of the four political houses of Throm in the constitutional monarchy. The symbols below are the numbers of their current political weight in terms of followers; the brothers lead the majority collectively.”

  She turned her back on Amber.

  Her rudeness shocked Amber, but she shrugged it off, looking at the other Thromian women around the table. Some were blond and thus fairer skinned, while others had rusty brown or pitch black hair. Their skin tones differed from bronze to porcelain. All different, and all unique. She wished she hadn’t been stuck with the rudest one at the gathering, for the other human females didn’t seem to be having trouble communicating with those seated near them.

  Amber ignored the question in her mind, the one that asked which female was Wrexel’s girlfriend, as Travis had referred to him as “un-joined” or unmarried. She hoped the nasty Thromian beside her wasn’t his girlfriend and then wondered why she cared.

  * * *

  The object of her nervous disposition arrived and Amber once again held her breath. Wrexel appeared surly and unfriendly as he greeted the humans who would be sitting near him. They – Travis included – seemed eager to greet him as a Thromian did, with the clasping of forearms.

  Wrexel did not smile. He looked as though he suffered in painful tolerance but it was lost on the awed humans. He continued to look surly even when his gaze roamed around the table. Not until it settled on her did his expression change. She responded with the same nod of acknowledgement he directed at her. He immediately turned away.

  Amber began to breathe again and berated herself for once again responding so intensely toward him. It made her partly grateful she sat far from him even if it meant enduring Throm’s number one bitch.

  Minutes later the woman in question slammed down her wrist after reading her communicator.

  “I’m Rix.” She extended her hand. Her sudden desire for politeness did not ring true, as if she had received a command to be a better host. Amber didn’t like her.

  If she was worried about being a good host, she need not be. Amber was happy to sit and silently survey those around her. Rix saw the shared animosity and her face softened.

  “I’m sorry.” She filled Amber’s glass. “I really didn’t want to be at this dinner, it isn’t personal.”

  “For what it’s worth, neither did I.”

  “Why?” Rix pushed the glass toward Amber. “I thought all humans were enthralled with Throm. I am surprised you didn’t want to attend this evening.”

  “It was a sudden change,” Amber confessed. “I didn’t understand why you suddenly felt the need to be social after days of business only.”

  “Oh.” Rix swallowed the remainder of her drink and poured another. “That should be apparent pretty soon.”

  Her mocking laugh made Amber uneasy.

  Nasty suspicions that she couldn’t name or place gnawed at her and she saw a blur in the corner of her eye that indicated her mother Lilith was going to make an appearance.

  Perfect timing!

  Both women sat quietly as they served a second dish. Rix devoured another glass of wine without taking a breath and leaned back in her chair. She ran her eyes over Amber. “You’re beautiful for a colonial.” She said it without kindness.

  Amber raised a brow at her change of attitude. “Er… thanks.”

  “I can understand his attraction.” She gave a snort and filled her glass. She was getting quite drunk. “Although why, after years of pure Thromian bedmates, he would seek another species is mystifying.”

  Amber felt unsteady, terrified at the conclusions her mind jumped to.

  Rix continued. “He keeps surprising everybody, maybe that’s why he does it. Without a doubt, he’s the strangest of the three.”

  Her speech was slurred.

  “What do you mean?” Amber tried to appear nonchalant.

  “You can count on him in war, but that is where it ends. He’s so hellbent on getting his father out of the constitution that he makes decisions that are terrifying for my brother, Whyle. His reactions and choices are never what one would expect for a Royal. He’s influenced at times by his brothers and their ideas, and then other times nobody knows where his logic comes from. Personally I think he’s a little mad. I’m his cousin, you know.” Rix tossed her head at Wrexel, who had not glanced their way since his arrival. “Outside of the line-up of women he chooses from,” she said with envy, her eyes fixed on Wrexel with regret and sadness.

  * * *

  Amber hid a smile as she sipped her wine; the idea that they were unemotional was clearly not true at all. Rix had a crush on Wrexel but, as his cousin, could not pursue it. They were more like humans than Travis realized, and she couldn’t wait to tell him about this conversation.

  “He’s young but can and should have taken a wife by now.” Rix swirled the remaining few drops in her glass.

  “Shihlo, his youngest brother, joined with a female days after his 21st... everybody expected Wrexel to have found somebody worthy by now.”

  “Why hasn’t he married?”

  “Too busy making conflict.” She filled her glass again. “Spoilt for choice by the women who loiter outside his door, hoping to be chosen for a night. Too busy defying his father, conspiring with Staede to stir up civil war. If it wasn’t for Whyle and Shihlo re
ining him in, God knows what would happen on Throm.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Rix was easily distracted and rambled on about other things in her life. Amber lost track. Travis intensely discussed various issues with a very bored-looking Wrexel and she strained her ears, wondering if he would do more than nod that night. Rix drew her attention again when she threw herself heartily into a story about the time she apparently embarrassed herself with Wrexel.

  “Just like that…” Rix’s drink spilt as she motioned with her hands, “he told me it’s not going to happen, get out of my quarters… go to Staede, he will try anything, even incest. I bared my soul and he tossed me out.”

  She glowered at Wrexel.

  Amber had been so lost in Rix’s sudden display of despair that Wrexel’s last recommendation that Travis take the important issues at hand to the meeting room nearby took her by surprise.

  * * *

  Travis flashed a smile of apology and Amber watched in horror as everyone filtered out, leaving the spouses who immediately sat together and spoke in whispers.

  She was now stuck with drunken Rix. The fact that Wrexel left without even glancing at her made no difference. It was not the reason for her misery.

  “Would it be alright if Amber took a walk with me?” Rix slurred loudly to nobody in particular and dragged her to an exit that slid open to reveal a sitting room.

  Amber wondered which would be worse: Rix’s drunk rambling or the boring group of significant others. Still, she sat down with Rix in the plush lounge. Before she could ask why Rix had taken her aside, the doors swished open again and Wrexel entered, glaring at Rix.

  “Did I say it right, cousin?” Rix stood up and spoke loudly, lifting her glass in a human toast. “Was I convincing enough for your charade?”

  “You’re drunk,” Wrexel replied icily. “Get out.”

  “You’re welcome.” She staggered slightly and threw her half-filled glass at her angry cousin, who sidestepped as it shattered to the floor.

  Rix stormed haphazardly from the room.

  Amber wondered if the door would do the same for her should she need to flee. A trembling sensation settled in her stomach and she responded much like a trapped animal. Her eyes darted nervously from the closed door to Wrexel and she stood up.

  He stared directly at her, his face impassive as he said, “I apologize for Rix, she has… issues.”

  Amber clutched her skirt. “Perhaps... I should… go to the other ladies.” She hated the sound of her voice breaking apart in a girlish stammer.

  He gave a shrug and remained silent and unmoving for a few seconds that caused her stomach to lurch even more.

  “Perhaps.” He used her word as he walked to the side of the room. “Or maybe this will keep you entertained while they talk.”

  He touched a button on a panel.

  The wall pulled back, like a curtain, and Amber moved forward with amazement when she saw Earth. The beauty of her planet humbled her, but the sudden rush of emotion took her completely by surprise. A display of sentiment was the last thing she wished to show, especially in front of him, but the idea that it would soon die made her heart ache. She took in the moon and the other stars in the distance with a dreamy expression of loss until she realized that while she stared at the view, Wrexel stared at her.

  She looked up at him, taking in his size and height as he towered above her. The gaze from his honey-colored eyes gave nothing away.

  Amber shifted uncomfortably, conscious of her body in a way that was foreign to her when she was around him. She did not know where to put her hands and opted to fold them across her chest. She hugged herself in the hope that she could stop her restless reactions. She inhaled when he moved closer to her and had to remind herself to release the air in her lungs.

  “Earth is almost as beautiful as Throm.” His voice was deep, his tone seductive. The sound rippled over her skin but shredded her nerves in the process.

  Being with him was an uncomfortable pleasure.

  “When you look at Earth like this, don’t you feel as if you would do anything to save it?”

  Then, as if the question was pertinent, his eyes locked on hers.

  Amber nodded; confusion joined the ranks of emotions she struggled to cope with. He searched her face with a gentle intensity. She had to find something to distract him from the way he looked at her or she would scream. She tried in vain to regain control of her racing pulse.

  “The asteroid…” she said finally, and he clicked another button, allowing the screen to magnify, moving deep into space until she saw the traveling rock that would end life on Earth in less than a few weeks. Amber stared at it for a while, sadness and inevitability settling heavily upon her chest.

  Wrexel returned to the view of her beloved planet. She could feel rather than see that he still looked at her, as if measuring her every reaction.

  She touched her fingers to her forehead, sure that the alcohol affected her too because she was giddy. He left her for a few seconds to fetch her glass of wine that she had carried through with Rix and she reluctantly accepted it with a hand that trembled.

  “Why did the Thromian race opt to… change their genetics?”

  Good topic, Amber. She was proud that she managed to find something worthwhile in her brain.

  “We needed to be stronger… better.”

  “Why?”

  “The federated seven, soon to be eight, protect one another from beings that do not have our concept of morality and ethics, and that often target our land. Being tougher assures our security.”

  Okay, next question, think, think, think.

  He moved a little closer and the nervous terror increased.

  “I really think I should go…” She began slide away, but he cut her short when one hand settled on the paneling beside her head and stopped her from moving.

  Amber shrank backward and the cold of the ship’s wall seeped into her spine.

  “Why do you call Travis your fiancé?”

  His gaze was too warm, his body too close.

  “We plan to be married.” She swallowed convulsively.

  “Mutually exclusive to one another?” He took a sip of his own wine with his free hand.

  “Yes, of course,” she stammered. “Why?” She regretted the question immediately.

  His eyes gleamed as he spoke. “Rules and logic from one evolution are scorned by the next. You practice monogamy, as do we, but our contracts of marriage are flexible for those who wish to keep their options open.”

  “That’s not loyalty in marriage.” She defended the institution.

  “It’s called honesty,” he replied.

  “I think it’s… wrong.”

  He raised a brow. “So you’re prepared to be with Travis for the rest of your life?”

  “Yes.” His question outraged her, but his eyes danced with merriment.

  Amber sipped her wine, the idea that she entertained him causing her heart to flutter.

  * * *

  Wrexel’s smile entranced her. “Some of your nations allow the privilege of more than one partner but only to men. Thromian men and women are equal in all respects; our females have the right to express full freedom of their wants and needs.” He bent the arm that held her captive, moving closer. “When they want something, they make it known.”

  Amber lost the ability to respond; the suggestive nature of his statement was undeniable.

  “I didn’t know you were so interested in our culture.” She found a question in her scrambled brain and nearly applauded herself.

  He laughed, and the sound ignited pleasure throughout her body.

  “I must confess I have been attending the joint meetings but not listening; the issues they discuss are never interesting to me.”

  His smile transformed him into the most exquisite-looking creature she had ever seen. She was glad she held the wine in front of her, for he continually moved closer.

  “My aim is reallocation,” he continued. “I d
on’t really care who goes and why.”

  She slid the glass up between them, brushing her knuckles against his chest. He still did not move.

  “Do you like our wine?”

  “It’s different,” she whispered.

  “So you enjoy trying different things?”

  Her heart raced at the double meaning in his words. She lifted the glass to her lips awkwardly; he was too close for her to do it properly.

  He waited for her answer.

  “Sometimes.” Amber squirmed and then jolted when he lifted his hand from the wall.

  “May I?” he asked and turned his hand over to show the gesture was unthreatening. When she did not respond, he reached forward to thread his fingers through her hair, then gently brushed the side of her neck.

  Amber froze.

  * * *

  He touched her cheek, very softly with his thumb, his eyes never moving from hers. He came even closer, his nose at her temple as he took a slow, deep breath.

  She bit back a moan. She was paralyzed, her heart racing wildly as desire threaded through her.

  Never in her life had she felt so alive and yet so scared. She couldn’t gain control of her senses. He pulled away slightly and his mouth hovered an inch from hers.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in dismay when her head swam.

  “I’m curious,” he whispered against her lips.

  Amber’s words stuck in her throat. She watched in fascination as his eyes subtly changed color.

  She knew he was allowing her to see the transformation. When they flared in violet swirls, she almost whimpered, transfixed by his nearness and unable to flee the confined space.

  “Don’t look so frightened, Amber; I’m not going to hurt you.” His whispered words did not comfort her in the slightest. “On the contrary, my thoughts for you are always ones linked with pleasure.”

  She couldn’t hold back the moan anymore; it escaped her lips without thought.