AMNESIA

by Canada Jackson

  The wine glass she clutched tightly to her chest was the only barrier between them now. She could feel his warmth against her fingers.

  You should push him away.

  You should run.

  You should kiss him because you may never get a chance to do anything this erotically exciting again.

  “I saw you with Travis on the transporter the other night.” They breathed the same air; his scent was masculine, heady, and pleasurable. “We don’t embrace like that on Throm.”

  Amber’s throat closed. He was too close, overwhelming her. She ached for his touch, but was terrified to respond.

  She couldn’t move from him.

  “I’d like to try that with you,” he whispered against her lips, his warm, sweet breath becoming hers. Amber leaned into him but at that moment the door signaled three times and a rush of cold enveloped her as he stepped away. She had no time to collect her thoughts as the room filled with people. Wrexel set down his glass and left.

  * * *

  Travis returned, and they walked in a group of jubilant negotiators and gossiping wives. She allowed him to take her hand and tried in vain to listen as he explained what had happened.

  “What did you discuss with Wrexel?” he asked her in the transporter.

  “He showed me Earth, the approaching asteroid.”

  Amber did not look at him when she spoke. She felt as if she had somehow betrayed him. She had only spoken to Wrexel, so the idea was preposterous, but anxiety gnawed at her stomach. Never, not once, not even the first time they kissed, did Travis make her feel like Wrexel did by just standing near her.

  Amber didn’t think her body capable of responding the way it had that night and it terrified her.

  It highlighted everything she would never have and it was dangerous.

  Don’t think about it.

  Put it out of your mind.

  When Travis remarked later that the Thromians were handsome, Amber merely shrugged.

  “Thank God they keep their nation pure; it’s an unspoken forbidden law… Thromians mate only with Thromians, did you know that?”

  “Really.” She acted as if she didn’t care.

  “Otherwise we would have all our women leaving us,” he joked but then added seriously, “We warned the ladies already reallocated that they would never be more than a short-lived union of convenience, for many of them are throwing themselves at the aliens. A Thromian will never have a permanent mate of another race.”

  The next day Wrexel watched footage of Amber as she walked at Travis’s side, inspecting one of the ships where evacuees where settling in. He frowned at her behavior. How she followed him, watching him for cues on how to act. The way he monitored and controlled her every move irked him. She stopped to pick up a baby, her face glowing with pleasure as she cooed over the child in her arms. He smiled at her animated gestures and then the expression faded into a glare when Travis indicated she should be at his side. He saw her regret, how she handed the baby to its mother and obediently went to him, following his directions. One step behind.

  He hated how her eyes constantly flew to Travis’s face when she spoke, as if she checked her level of appropriateness with him. The longing to pull her out of her monitored environment was strong; he needed to see her acting according to her own will, wanted to see her express all the fire within her that he sensed smoldering beneath the surface. What would it be like to watch her come undone?

  He had to know.

  He placed a call immediately.

  * * *

  Another invite.

  Amber cringed when Travis told her the news.

  They argued when she insisted that her presence wasn’t required.

  “On the contrary, Rix asked for you personally.”

  “She did?” Amber did not believe that.

  “Wrexel said Rix was under the weather at the last gathering and wanted a chance to apologize. It’s refreshing to realize they have some human tendencies.”

  She was angry with Travis for overlooking what was glaringly obvious to her. “I feel uncomfortable around... them.”

  “Well, I won’t leave you alone with him for a second,” he soothed her. “They’re aliens, my darling… they’re supposed to be strange. You need to practice your socializing skills; one day you will entertain the wives of many a visiting diplomat and they will not all be human.”

  He hugged her to him, promising her that they would be glued to the hip for the whole evening and then sent her away to change with a warning to be conservative in her apparel.

  Amber obeyed but her hands trembled as she slipped on the dress that would obtain Travis’s approval. She was trying to apply a line beneath her lashes for the third time when Sam wrestled the pencil from her. “Are you okay?

  Amber nodded and allowed her future sister-in-law to help her.

  “Want to talk about anything?”

  Amber mumbled no. She shared a lot of things with Sam, but not much about her insanity. She didn’t know how the girl who adored her would react if she told her that her mother was currently sitting on the bed too, her new green aura in full force.

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  Amber lowered her voice. “Their leader… he makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Why, is he old and creepy-looking?”

  “No he’s young and… handsome.”

  Sam grinned. “And the problem is?”

  “He looks at me… like he shouldn’t.”

  Sam snorted. “You’re a beautiful woman, Amber. You’re always hanging around with balding intellectuals double your age. They’ve forgotten how to look at a woman in her prime.”

  She finished Amber’s makeup and stood back with a smile. “Why don’t you enjoy the attention a little? It’s all harmless; you’re not cheating on Travis if you think another male is attractive.”

  Amber didn’t respond. It may not be cheating to think of somebody as attractive, but her thoughts of late took it too far. She thought about their almost kiss and felt nothing but remorse that they had been interrupted. His mouth hadn’t touched hers and yet she had done nothing but imagine what it would have been like if it had.

  What would it be like to be kissed by a man who desired her greatly?

  What would it be like to kiss a man who made her feel desire?

  No, that would be bad in so many ways for her future.

  She decided that instead of regret, she should be grateful, for she didn’t think she would ever be quite the same if he had taken the final step and embraced her.

  She left her room as Sam slunk away and stood for Travis’s nod of approval. A minor adjustment was needed for her shoe choice and then they left for the transporter.

  * * *

  This dinner was strange.

  Rix was silent, apologetic, and overly polite. Amber noticed her wine was untouched.

  Wrexel left halfway through the dinner and Travis dragged her to a second boring discussion. She told herself her disappointment in the evening was because she had to endure the long, tedious meeting and not because Wrexel was absent. She felt like a fraud. She cared for her planet, cried for the lives that would be lost, and yet became fed up with the ongoing discussions of culture clashes and re-allocation apportions. Halfway during the dinner, the tall, dark-skinned Thromian negotiator named Inndra seemed distracted. He fidgeted with his white epaulettes, lost track of the conversation, and then stood up, lowering his head and touching his ear as he spoke.

  The news received on his earpiece did not seem to please him and his pacing came to an abrupt halt. A scowl covered his face as he turned around and walked toward the door.

  Travis saw him leave, but the others continued their discussion and the Thromians who remained behind carefully listened. He came over to Amber with a frown. “They are very distracted tonight; especially Inndra, who is the chief negotiator and who always cares the most about Earth’s issues. I’m going to catch up with him and tell him that we should take this up anot
her time; it’s almost as if they have become bored with this important topic.”

  He walked to the door and used the pass that hung around his neck to leave the room, flashing a smile as he quietly left.

  An hour later, Travis had still not returned, and the party was ready to go home.

  Amber didn’t panic until Inndra entered again and indicated that Wrexel had other issues that were pending and would not be able to continue the evening’s meeting. She was more alarmed when everybody agreed, moving amidst full discussion to the elevator that would take them to the transporter floor.

  “Inndra, Travis hasn’t returned yet, so please tell him I left with the others.”

  “Where is he?” Inndra looked annoyed.

  “He followed you out.” Amber wondered how they had missed each other.

  Inndra did not look happy. He turned and walked away abruptly, leaving her behind to watch the departing humans who merely said, “See you later, Amber. Please tell Travis we are not settled on point B of the second allocation.”

  Amber hesitated for a few moments and then charged after Inndra. She wasn’t ready to depart without Travis; she would rather wait and they could leave together.

  Inndra scowled at her when she reached his side.

  “Why didn’t you leave with the others?” he asked tersely, but he didn’t send her away or slow his brisk walk, as if the matter at hand was more important than getting rid of her.

  “I am waiting for my… Travis,” she said stubbornly.

  Inndra appeared to be so stressed that he ignored her, even when his wrist monitor lit up and he took a call. “Yes Whyle?”

  “Where are you?” The voice sounded clearly for her to hear. “Wrexel is about to meet with the Yimmyrd Revan who has worked out what we are doing with Earth and he is pissed. We need a voice of reason present so that Wrexel doesn’t do something we all regret. The idiot lead negotiator for Earth somehow got involved as well, God knows how! Hazem just sent me an urgent message that the room is spiraling out of control.”

  “I’m en route,” Inndra responded.

  “Good, keep them amiable. If a fight breaks out, we don’t know who will walk out of there alive. And get rid of the Earthling; I don’t need additional bullshit when we are so close to wrapping this up.”

  Inndra clicked the monitor and looked at her with a grimace when the gasp of horror left her lips. “You should have gone home with your people tonight,” he said with regret. She realized that she was no longer walking at his side as a free guest.

  13

  The Yimmyrd

  Earlier that day….

  The Yimmyrd Revan made a voyage to Earth to check on the progress of the Thromians’ mission. The past day’s events still rushed across his mind as he tried to make sense of the debacle he sensed.

  The fate of the recent Earthly evolution was so different from the previous three that the entire Yimmyrd council had been at odds for weeks. From afar for centuries, they had observed the rise, growth, and fall of Earth not once but four times in the history of mankind as The Sacred appeared to try in vain to raise a nation of humans that would follow his heart.

  The beginning was always the same. Life would evolve at a snail’s pace and then rapidly increase in a short span of time. The human being went from the divine creation of a dividing single-cell organism to an intellectual man in thousands upon thousands of years, but as soon as he stood upright and began to use logic instead of instinct, the progression became rapid. The end result never changed. Intellect grew and flourished but so too did the evil emotions that are linked purely with logic and against the spirit of a loving Creator. Humans, it seemed, were destined to succumb to the voice of self-reliance and superiority that always spiraled into their own demise.

  They abused the gift of life upon Earth until the planet itself collapsed, leaving a few souls that the Yimmyrd obediently rescued and re-allocated to their solar system, wondering if the Most High would try again. The Creator of all seemed to hold on to the hope that humanity would change.

  This was the fourth attempt.

  This time was different, however. Earth was still evolving and hope of ongoing survival and the attainment of high thinking remained a possibility. The Most High had not called on them yet, in the final minutes of Earth’s deteriorating shell, to lift the pockets of humans to safety.

  Earth still had a chance, they thought. Until the asteroid appeared.

  It came suddenly and without warning, shocking the Yimmyrd, for it was an isolated occurrence and had never happened before. It grew in strength as it moved steadily forward, its target Earth.

  * * *

  The Yimmyrd realized the asteroid would strike and not only destroy but devastate Earth in a manner that would change the predictability of the current evolution cycle for the worse. They went to their worship chambers for guidance from the Most High and called on Revan, as counselor to Throm, to see them immediately when they received instructions.

  Revan had been in a nine-day silent communion, common for his kind, and was surprised when they interrupted him, asking for his urgent council.

  The Yimmyrd controlled all the federated planets from their own planet, Illohi, within the system named Diogel that had always been their home. It was theirs as decreed by the Source of all life. They had slowly inhabited each planet with species according to what the Creator directed and had one left named Rheese that they had set aside for the fourth evolution of Earth if they failed.

  Those given a home upon one of the eight Diogel planets were grateful and obeyed the Yimmyrd, except for the Raks of Huggraker and Throm.

  Revan had been saddled with the role of senior counselor to the violent and unpredictable mix-bred planet of Throm: no easy feat for they remained consistently volatile. While Throm obeyed almost all the requests and decisions made by the overwhelming vote of their federated neighbors, they were not to be trusted. If any agenda or decision went against their frame of acceptance, they would veto in quiet and move forward in their own interest.

  They had been trouble from the first day they arrived on their new planet.

  Their thirst for self-actualization from the Yimmyrd had led them to alter their genes for strength, and while they accepted, like the other planets, that the Most High existed, they believed he did not exist for them.

  He found it difficult to reason and negotiate with a nation that had no integrity toward any life form but its own. It remained his greatest dilemma and a task he lived with daily. He learnt very quickly that Throm’s only esteemed attribute, which was mostly due to self-preservation, was its consistent protection of the federated planets against the scattered 104.

  The order received from the Most High, The Sacred of all, had vexed the Yimmyrd council.

  Intervention in the form of the asteroid’s destruction was ordained only if Throm offered assistance without persuasion. They could not personally intervene and could not alter the course of the asteroid. The Yimmyrd did not like this order, but they obeyed the word of the Most High in everything. They announced the fate of current Earth at the next Federation meeting, believing Throm would ignore them, giving them cause to return to the Creator for further instruction. They were surprised when Throm responded without coercion that it would embark on a trip to Earth and stop the asteroid to allow the usual evolution of Earth to continue uninterrupted.

  * * *

  The Yimmyrd graciously accepted the offer after a moment of stunned silence but could not accept the ease with which help had been offered. They called on Revan immediately to find out why the Thromians were suddenly acting in an obliging manner. Just that morning, Revan had listened to their news of the asteroid and the offer Throm made with a frown. He could not believe so much had occurred in just eight days of silent communion.

  “Who made the offer?” he asked immediately.

  “Shihlo of Throm. He also launched the mission straight away.”

  “This is good news, my fathers. Shihlo is
gracious in comparison with his kin; he is not a demon hunter like Wrexel or a sky terrorist like Staede.”

  “Indeed, Revan, since he took over the role of negotiation on the federated council, life has been easier for us. He is wiser than most Thromians and infinitely kinder. But since Throm’s departure a week ago, the asteroid has not been destroyed; it still shows up on our monitors.”

  “Did you ask Shihlo why?”

  “He claimed his brother was facing a delay.”

  “Brother?”

  Revan groaned when they responded, “Wrexel.”

  “We reached out to Wrexel for commentary and an update,” the Elder Yeabsa told him.

  “His response…” He flushed. “It’s not one I care to repeat.”

  “Send out a Yimmyrd task force to check on the progress,” said Revan immediately.

  “We did, Revan.”

  “And…”

  “We cannot get near to Earth to track their movement; Wrexel has declared it a war zone.”

  “A war zone?” Revan sat down.

  “Shihlo has ignored our repeated calls for council; he said the task would be accomplished and would discuss it no more. We need you to use your influence with Shihlo, find out what is transpiring.”

  Revan promised the elders he would discover more and made his way to Shihlo’s governmental home with haste. Shihlo was nothing like his father, the Monarch Gilroth, who lost autocratic rule in Throm just six years ago. Gilroth openly loathed the Yimmyrd and persistently tried to derail them. When the Monarchy became constitutional, Shihlo had taken the stance that only the Yimmyrd could effectively keep the inhabitants of Diogel aligned in protection of one another and he supported Revan and the Federation’s requests. He fought against his father, who had a penchant for war at the cost of his own people and a desire for universal domination. However, this didn’t mean that Shihlo wasn’t still 100 percent Thromian and able to impulsively change his stance or take measures when it suited a personal agenda.