Married to the Alien with No House: Renascence Alliance Series Book 3

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Married to the Alien with No House: Renascence Alliance Series Book 3 Page 5

by Alma Nilsson


  “Prepare for departure,” said the deep male voice. “Human women, please report to your first cultural class in 20 minutes in Conference Room One. End.”

  Babette looked out the small window as they were slowly moving and repeated the word, “’End.’” And thought to herself, Don’t get cold feet now, there’s no turning back. Then out loud said quietly to Earth as it became increasingly smaller, “This isn’t goodbye forever beautiful blue home. I’ve not forsaken you. I’m just looking around the corner. I’ll be back.” She remembered what Jade had said to her about leaving the planet for the first time and put her hand on her chest and said quietly, “That’s all it is, just a bit of nerves about being in space for the first time. It’s okay, body. Calm down,” Babette closed her eyes and breathed.

  After about five minutes, Babette’s excitement and curiosity for the situation took over again. Her doubts disappeared as she avidly watched all the familiar landmarks of her solar system pass before her eyes from the small window until there was nothing more she recognized. Then she went into the bathroom. She stood over the toilet and looked at it. It was very modern and didn’t really look like a toilet at all. She could not see a hole. Babette suspected that it had to be activated first, but after a few minutes, she realized that she had no idea how to use it as she could not read the instructions. Babette strongly resisted the urge to randomly press buttons because she was afraid one of them might be an alarm, and she did not want to make a first impression by being the woman who touched the bathroom alarm on her first day. She sighed and decided she could wait to go and would find out from their cultural teacher, Commander Daz, how to use the toilet.

  Babette looked in the mirror then to check her appearance. She thought she looked great, new clothes, a touch of makeup, and a new haircut. She smiled to herself and said softly, “Looking good for the start of your new life.”

  The mirror then lit up and began speaking to her, “Please state your name, human.”

  Babette answered uncertainly, “Babette?”

  “Madame Babette of House Human, would you like me to show you Alliance hairstyles?” Suddenly the mirror produced images of her with different braided hairstyles that she assumed must be popular in the Alliance. Babette thought most of them were too matronly for a young woman like herself.

  “No,” said Babette. “I’m fine.”

  “Anything else you require?”

  “Yes, how do I use the toilet?”

  “Press the small blue button on the wall above the toilet. This will activate it to adjust to you. Then sit and relieve yourself.”

  “Oh, thanks,” replied Babette, not knowing if she should then turn off the mirror for privacy. Human technology had stopped with smart bathrooms. Most humans thought there was something intrinsically wrong about computers or other people monitoring everything, especially monitoring moments in the bathroom. She rationalized, though, that she would probably become accustomed to all of this in no time at all.

  Babette went over to the toilet, pressed the small blue button, and the toilet adjusted itself to a low height. She took down her trousers and then sat down. She was so shocked that the toilet moved and warmed when she sat down. She almost fell off from jumping. When she righted herself, it took her a minute before she could actually go as she had to calm herself. She wondered then as she peed what her life in the Alliance would be like. Would she be so pampered with technology and UCs, that she would become so soft she could never live on Earth again? A part of her hoped so, and she smiled.

  “Your urine will be tracked through our systems,” the mirror told Babette while she was finishing on the toilet.

  “What? Why?” asked Babette, still shocked to be talking to a mirror while she peed.

  “For your health,” replied the mirror.

  Babette jumped again when the toilet began to clean her with cold water and then dry her with fresh air. She was sure her cheeks were red from the embarrassment of it, and she was pleased she was alone, save for the mirror.

  When she was finished, Babette stood and put her clothes back on. Then she washed her hands in front of the mirror.

  “The water temperature is set to 20C would you like it warmer, Madame Babette?”

  “It’s fine,” she said, wondering if the mirror was always going to be on and what other smart technology she had in her quarters. She looked at her reflection and wondered if Alliance people were watching her right now and, or if, they were recording everything she did. She finished washing her hands, and the sink dried them with cold air. She thought it was strange that it was cold air but then reminded herself, the Alliance was colder than Earth, and the ship was kept at a frosty 15C. Her quarters didn’t seem so cold, though. “Mirror, what’s the air temperature?”

  “The environmental temperature of the ship is kept at 15C. Optimal working conditions for Alliance men. Your quarters are now set to 19C as you are female.”

  “What about on the Capital Planet?”

  “Women occupy the Capital Planet, and therefore all homes and buildings are kept at 19C year-round.”

  “When we arrive, what season will it be?”

  “Winter.”

  “Oh good,” said Babette. She had never really lived in a cold place, so she was actually looking forward to a lot of snow. She had been over the images from House Human a hundred times already, and the fireplace in the main drawing room surrounded by windows overlooking the Capital City looked like cozy modern perfection. She couldn’t wait to sit there in her free time in her new life.

  “Madame Babette, you must go to Conference Room One now, or you will be late,” said a computer’s voice, a different voice to the mirror’s.

  Babette just looked at the wall and thought, I guess I’ll become accustomed to lots of technology talking to me. She grabbed her black jacket with embroidered flowers on it so she would not be cold and left her quarters.

  It was not difficult to find Conference Room One as a lot of human women were in the corridors all going to the same place, so Babette just fell in line with the rest of them. When they arrived at the conference room, there were assigned seats for all 50 of them. They took their seats, and then a large Alliance man wearing a short sword and copious amounts of ranking jewelry walked in trailed by the young teenager Squire Ter.

  Daz stood at the head of the long table and looked them all over for half a minute before speaking, “I am Commander Daz. This is my squire Ter, who’ve you have already met. Let me repeat this as it is imperative, any questions you have during our voyage, ask one of us and only one of us.” Daz looked over all the young women and was overwhelmed by their colors, not just in their physical appearance but clothing as well. In the past week, he had read up on everything he needed to know about human women’s rights and expectations from the High Council. He had also downloaded Madame Bai’s Handbook, but none of that prepared him for standing here in front of all these adorable women. He inwardly groaned. This was going to be a very long trip, and he had no idea how he was going to keep the crew away from these women or vice versa. He definitely didn’t think his note in the memo he began with was going to work longer than a day, but as he had been writing the first notes he had said to Ter, “Well, at least we can have it here in writing that we don’t want this happening.” His young squire had just given him a guilty look, which only confirmed all of Daz’s fears, the men were already scheming about how to meet his charges.

  Daz only knew a few women in his life, his mother, his grandmother, and his wife. Now he had 50 human women that he was pastorally responsible for until he could hand them off to Madame Bai and Jane of House Human, and he was overwhelmed with worry. If more than five of these women arrived married, he would be in trouble. They would question the circumstances in which the women were married. After what Admiral Tir had done, it had been made very clear to all of them who had been sent on this diplomatic mission that none of them were to coerce a woman to marry them. Daz and the rest of the senior officers
had laughed when they had heard that edict from the High Council. None of them were successors to the throne or from the Imperial House. They had nothing to seduce a woman to marry them with. However, Daz didn’t miss the High Council’s meaning. These human women were to be delivered, as any Alliance women would be, and to be given the same opportunities to meet Alliance men through the regular courting practices on the Alliance Homeworlds. After they learned enough about the culture be able to make the right decision for themselves, of course. Daz was under no illusion that he could teach them what they needed to be taught to live in the Alliance Empire as the women’s world was very separate from the men’s.

  When Daz realized none of the women had any questions, he began, “Thank the gods, and thank you all for choosing to become citizens of the Alliance Empire. We are very grateful that you have humbly accepted our offer. When we reach the Capital Planet, you will be provided suitable living arrangements in House Human, which you all are a part of now.” Daz brought up 3D images of House Human, which showed the building from the outside and then videos from the inside. It was made of plain grey and yellow stone, but Babette thought it looked modern and luxurious compared to what she was used to. “On arrival, your pastoral care will be transferred over to Lieutenant Commander Jane, who is Head of House Human and Madame Bai will be in charge of your cultural, religious and physical education along with other various teachers, handpicked to serve you from the best in the Capital City.” Daz nodded to his squire Ter then, and the young man began handing out tablets for the women.

  “Each tablet has been downloaded with A Cultural Guide to the Alliance Empire. I expect all of you to read it so that we can discuss it in our classes. Our culture is successful because it is precise. Everyone, from the lowest slave to the Empress, knows her duties and responsibilities, and doesn’t stray from them. I’m aware that it might take some time for you to abandon your casual human habits, but I have no doubt that you can discard them when you learn the correct Alliance way to live your lives. You are the Lost People,” Daz touched his heart with one finger. “Our cultural knowledge will come naturally to you as if it had been yours all along. It’s what the gods’ intended. Do not doubt it, you are all on your way home.”

  Babette was looking at Commander Daz as if he had just turned himself into a goat, and the women around her seemed just as shocked by his words.

  One woman raised her hand, “Excuse me, who are the Lost People?”

  Daz was surprised that they had not been told the myth of the Lost People. He wondered then how the interviews on the planet had been conducted. Before he told them about the Lost Myth, he wanted to make sure that they knew how they were acquiring citizenship, “You all do know you will be required to marry Alliance men, right?” His heart was beating so loudly, worried that the new and old Ambassador had tricked these women.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when they all nodded their heads. He actually wiped some sweat from his hands on his uniform and then began to tell them about the myth, “Humans are the Lost People. Please activate your tablets and go to Chapter 14, The Lost People Myth.” He waited for the young women to turn on their tablets. Then another hand went up, “Yes?”

  “I can’t read this. Our translators only work for the spoken word for most galactic languages,” another young woman admitted.

  The rest of the women also reaffirmed this.

  “Of course,” Daz said, annoyed with himself that he had been so busy thinking about the cultural classes that he had forgotten entirely to have their translators exchanged. “I’ll read this myth for you now, and your translators will be exchanged later today.” The women then all looked up at him expectantly,

  Long ago, when the Alliance was still an infant and ships got lost, a fleet of explorers and scientists were pulled to the other side of the galaxy by an unknown force. Unable to come back, they found an almost inhospitable planet, too bright, too hot, but uninhabited except for some small animals. They sent a message back to the Empire explaining their situation, begging to be rescued. The message took over one-hundred years to arrive. When it was received, the Alliance had already counted those in that fleet for dead. The Empress and Emperor then were very greedy and did not want to waste time and resources to look for some citizens who may or may not be still alive and waiting to be rescued. The Imperial Family decided to conceal the information about the Lost People. They had the message destroyed. From that point forward, everything only got better for the Empire, technology, military, colonies, and Alliance civilization in the known galaxy soared, and no one thought about the rumored Lost People again, until we discovered a species almost like our own. They called themselves ‘humans. We sent ships to investigate them before they had the technology to understand what we were doing. We believed that these humans were most likely the Lost People. However, since the Empress and Emperor of the past had all the original documents destroyed, no one remembered the exact location of the Lost People. So, it was decided, conveniently, that humans were not the Lost People, and the Alliance continued to expand and almost completely to ignore humanity. But now, the gods are punishing the Alliance for not retrieving the Lost People when we were twice given the opportunity to do so. They are making us suffer with low-female birth rates and catastrophic disruptions to our perfectly ordered society. We have been given a third chance now, to accept humans back into the fold or die from our pride.

  Daz finished reading and looked out onto his class, “You see, you are coming home.”

  Babette was a bit shocked. She looked over at Jade, who shrugged. Obviously, Jade already knew this information and wasn’t bothered by it. Babette looked back at Commander Daz and wondered how religious Alliance people really were or if their religion merely framed their structured society. She had a difficult time believing that someone who worked in the galaxy, met aliens from all over and knew so much about technology would believe in something as archaic as old gods. Babette knew better than to ask, though.

  Unfortunately, some of the other women were not nearly as smart as Babette. One woman with short blonde hair said with a laugh, “You can’t believe that nonsense, can you?”

  Commander Daz gave the woman a stern look and then said to all of them, “It is blasphemy to question the gods’ will. Do you all understand? We punish blasphemers with public physical punishments.”

  Babette was scared of Commander Daz then. She didn’t know what a punishment in the Alliance from one adult male to a group of women would include, but by the look on his face, she certainly did not want to find out. She put her hand in her pocket then and absently rubbed the silver ring that had belonged to her room’s former occupant. She didn’t know why, but she had had to have the ring. And now she was glad as it gave her a distraction to play within her pocket as the Commander gave them all harsh looks and then steadied himself and was evenly telling them the rest of their schedule for the day and for the rest of the journey.

  Another woman asked a question, “I thought the journey to the Alliance Capital Planet only took two weeks at the most?”

  Commander Daz sighed, “Yes, it usually does, but we are going via the Koiu Nebula. It is a sacred place to give thanks to the gods for bringing you all home to us. We will reach the Capital Planet in four weeks from now. Thank the gods for lighting our paths.”

  Daz had been so annoyed that morning when Admiral Tir had told the fleet of their extended plan back to the Alliance. They were all well aware that Admiral Tir was prolonging their return trip to spend time with his new wife and were all worried that the Admiral would prolong the journey even longer if he felt like it. And the Admiral had purposely not taken any human women onboard his ship to keep his wife all to himself. But Daz thanked the gods that he wasn’t Commander Tzu, who had 200 women onboard his ship. Daz had only been given 50, but he didn’t know why. As far as he could see, there was no rhyme or reason to it. But in the Alliance, you didn’t ask questions.

  If Daz had asked why he was only given
50 women to look after, he would have been told it was because these 50 women were not susceptible to audio or visual manipulation from the Alliance advertisements but that they honestly wanted to volunteer for their own unique reasons. As such, the Ambassadors to Earth, new and old, felt that Commander Daz, being married already for over twenty years, would be the best to deal with them on such a long voyage. Thankfully for Daz, he didn’t know any of this or else he would have been even more nervous about the women in his charge.

  Homecoming

  Mir took off his officer’s coat and entered his childhood home. He heard his mother cooking in the kitchen and walked in to greet her. “Where’s dad?” he asked, as his father usually did the cooking in their home.

  “He’s working late tonight. You should know why,” his mother said disapprovingly.

  “You know, they’re purposely trying to make this as painful as possible for me. Let the gods be blessed for the opportunity,” Mir said and touched his mother’s arm gently.

  She nodded at her eldest son and replied, “We truly walk in the gods’ light.”

  Kis finished her cooking and sat down with Mir. Silently offering him the homecoming zota drink from across the table. As he took it, she looked at him intently, “You’ve grown into a man since I last saw you.”

  “Oh, you think so?” he asked with humor giving his mother a devilish smile.

  “You know so,” she replied, “and sooner rather than later, I suspect, you will be looking for a wife.”

  “Later,” he replied solemnly. “You know I must wait until I’m accepted back into the House in maximum class before I can look for a wife. And maximum class people marry much later, especially with the lack of available women, I don’t know if anyone will have me at all actually, even when I am old enough. I will have switched classes, after all.”

 

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