Alien Embrace

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by Tracy St. John


  He shook his head. “The Earthers could take you on your way there.”

  “Not if the shuttle goes straight from here to her home. I won’t stop for any reason, and if I think I’m being followed, I’ll re-route right back here.”

  The Imdiko frowned hard. “I do not like letting you out of my sight.”

  Amelia raised herself on tip toe to give him a gentle kiss. “I don’t like going out there either. But I really believe it’s safer for all of us if they don’t find me with you … if they don’t find me at all.”

  “Your idea does make sense.” Flencik blew out an exasperated growl. “Why did those gurlucks have to come? Why cannot they accept your happiness and let you go?”

  Amelia rested her cheek against his chest. “I don’t know. What’s a gurluck?”

  Flencik managed a rueful chuckle. “Did I say that out loud? It is not a word meant for my Matara’s pretty ears.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “Shall I go then?”

  He sighed. “Yes, but I am putting you in the shuttle and programming your route myself.” He tilted her head back to look in her eyes. “You keep watch for any Earthers. Any sign of them, you will call me and come straight back.”

  “If that happens, you contact Rajhir and Breft right away. Don’t come after me to face them on your own.”

  “Agreed. If you are not followed, call as soon as you are safely locked inside Vrill’s home. If I do not hear from you in—” Flencik calculated silently for a moment before giving her a Plasian timeframe that roughly corresponded to fifteen Earth minutes. “—then I am coming after you.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Flencik. I really would have hated leaving Vrill so upset.” Amelia hugged him hard.

  “I am more worried about Breft than Earthers now. He will most likely beat me for this.”

  “He’ll see the sense of our plan. He’ll probably be mad because he didn’t think of it himself.”

  Flencik snorted his disbelief and held her tight, as if he’d never let her go. He finally released her, saying, “I will send you to Vrill now.”

  Chapter 16

  Amelia’s trip to Vrill’s home had been uneventful with no sign of Earther pursuit. She had a sick feeling in her stomach nonetheless that had nothing to do with the embryo she carried. If she hadn’t been so certain her presence put Flencik in danger, she’d have stayed put in the clan’s quarters.

  Now Amelia stood on Vrill’s doorstep, feeling exposed. She banged on the door, looking over her shoulder for grim soldiers bent on hauling her before Earth justice. Nothing stirred in the shimmering glare of the Plasian morning.

  She pressed the visitor announcing microphone next to the door. “Are you there Vrill? It’s Amelia. Please let me in.”

  To her immeasurable relief, the door snicked open a crack. Amelia pushed in, not bothering to even look at her hostess before shoving the door shut behind herself and locking it. “Sorry to be so abrupt, but I don’t want anyone to see me here, especially Earthers—”

  Her voice died as he turned around to face a dozen Earther soldiers aiming pulse rifles at her.

  A grizzled middle-aged man stepped forward. He was nowhere near the size of a Kalquorian but imposing nonetheless. His greasy, lined face wore hectic red splotches. He looked Amelia over with the expression of someone eyeing particularly disgusting roadkill.

  “Secure this whore!” he barked, his voice grating like he gargled gravel every morning. Two youthful soldiers slung their rifles and lunged at Amelia. They roughly pulled her to the floor, knocking the wind out of her. She grunted as one planted a knee in her back. She cried out as her arms were twisted cruelly back, bringing the nerve damage to life. Metal snapped around her wrists and her hands clamored in pain.

  “She’s secured, General Croft sir!” The young man pinning Amelia to the floor squeaked like a mouse in his excitement.

  “Get her on her feet.” Amelia was hauled upright with rough, sweating hands. She gaped at her surroundings.

  The soldiers had trashed Vrill’s home, or at least the room they stood in now. Furniture was overturned. Vrill’s precious collection of crystal phalluses, some worth more than Amelia’s lifetime income, were smashed into tiny glittering shards. The wood ones, formerly polished to a high gleam from generations of use, were so many splintered toothpicks. Others made of stone and marble were ground into pebbles and dust.

  Worst of all, Vrill lay motionless on the floor, purple-black blood pooling under her furred head.

  “Vrill!” Amelia screamed, finally regaining her senses to struggle. “You bastards! You killed her!”

  General Croft’s fist smashed into her jaw, and pain exploded. Amelia’s world went gray. Her knees buckled, and the soldiers supporting her let her fall to the floor.

  “Shut up, slut! She got what all the residents of this Sodom and Gomorrah deserved.”

  Amelia barely heard Croft over the ringing in her ears and her own sobs. Poor Vrill. Amelia now understood the strangeness of their earlier conversation. No doubt the soldiers had been present when Amelia returned her friend’s call. The Plasian must have been forced to invite her over. Vrill’s anger had come from sudden defiance, a refusal to deliver Clan Rajhir’s Matara to the cruel General Croft. Trying to save Amelia had cost the young Plasian her life.

  “Stand her up again,” the general growled. The soldiers jerked her up, and pain made Amelia grit her teeth. Her jaw throbbed, and the ground beneath seemed to tilt.

  I will not faint. I will not cry out. I will not give the son of a bitch the satisfaction.

  She glared at the hulking general with hatred, unmindful of the tears she shed for Vrill.

  Croft’s lip curled at her defiance. “You are in custody for lewd and lascivious behavior, adultery, willfully committing crimes under the Earth Purity and Morality Act, and treason. In your absence, you have been found guilty of these crimes and sentenced to surgical barrenness without the benefit of anesthesia, female castration without the benefit of anesthesia, scarification of your sinful flesh without the benefit of anesthesia, and hard labor until death, all to be carried out immediately after you give birth to the Kalquorian abomination.”

  “I’ve had no trial,” Amelia protested.

  “You confessed your crimes in a recorded transmission to Earth Liaison Jack Frank. Sentence was summarily passed when viewed by the judge assigned to your case.”

  Croft suddenly spat in her face. Amelia gasped. Many of the avidly watching soldiers laughed in high, screamy voices. The sounds they made were as if they didn’t actually want to laugh. It was more like they were afraid not to.

  The general’s saliva, warm and thick like bile, traced a slow path down Amelia’s cheek. She wanted to throw up.

  “Damn filthy whore,” Croft snarled. “How dare you turn your back on God and government! You’re a nasty Jezebel, rutting with degenerate aliens like a bitch in heat.”

  “It wasn’t like that!” Amelia screamed. “If you’d just listen—”

  He slapped her hard, cutting her off. “Shut up, slut! I see what’s under those wide eyes and that pretty face. I see what you really are. You disgust me. What you’ve done disgusts me. If it were left up to me, I’d rip out the monstrosity they impregnated you with.” He flexed his fingers in front of her face. “I’d reach up inside you and tear it out with my bare hands.”

  More than righteous fury filled Croft’s eyes. Whites showed all around the murky irises. His breath came in bursts. His mouth trembled with emotion. Amelia realized she looked into the face of insanity. He wasn’t threatening her with empty words. He really did want to rip the clan’s baby from her guts.

  She sucked in her still-flat belly to shield the embryo from the madman. Her voice was a strengthless whisper. “Don’t you dare hurt my child.”

  The general punched her in the face again, and this time she did lose consciousness. When she woke again, she was on the floor with Croft leaning over her, slapping her throbbing face. She wailed as h
is meaty paw cracked against her cheek.

  “You awake, whore? Good.” He pulled Amelia upright with a handful of hair. She noticed through the haze of pain that none of the soldiers were laughing now. They all looked terrified.

  Before Croft’s irrational hatred, she managed to moan, “Please. Please.”

  “Shut up,” he said. “Your begging and everything else about you sickens me.”

  “Plea—”

  “Shut up!” He grabbed the collar of her blouse and shook her. Her head rocked back and snapped forward. Her neck creaked a warning. “Shut up, or I’ll shut you up for good! I’ll kill you, you disgusting cunt!”

  Croft threw Amelia on the floor and kicked her buttocks and back with heavy boots. She screamed, curling into herself to defend her belly. He reached down and wrapped thick fingers around her throat. He squeezed.

  Amelia’s windpipe closed from the pressure. She pulled desperately, uselessly, to free her hands locked in the cuffs. Croft’s face filled her vision as he throttled her. His bloodshot eyes were wider than ever, his mouth open and drooling. He breathed heavily into her face.

  “Die, nasty bitch,” he whispered with a lover’s tone as he dug his fingers deeper into her throat. “Die for me now. Off to hell with you. That’s right.”

  Dark spots were blotting out his horrible, ecstatic face. He squeezed and squeezed, cutting her life off. Behind the slow throb of her pulse in her ears, Amelia heard a beep, then another. More insistent beeps. From far away, a frightened voice asked, “Sir, should we answer that?”

  Amelia’s eyes slid closed. For an instant the pressure on her throat increased, then it was gone. Her lungs heaved, and air seared her raw throat. Her breath screamed in and out. The vid continued to beep. There was no other sound for several seconds.

  “Throw her ass in the shuttle,” Croft said. He sounded breathless himself. “And don’t answer that damned thing. It’s probably whoever the Plasian whore spreads her legs open for.”

  Amelia opened her eyes in time to see him throw open the door and stomp outside into the blare of sunlight. The vid quieted in mid-beep.

  Flencik, Amelia thought. Could he be the one calling? Was he on his way already, having not heard verification of her safe arrival?

  Please don’t let him get here before we leave. They’ve already killed Vrill. Not Flencik too!

  “Holy shit, man,” she heard a young male voice say. “He was gonna kill her, and she couldn’t even defend herself. At least the Plasian got a chance to fight back.”

  “Shut the hell up,” someone answered. The second voice was pitched high in panic. “If he hears you, we’re all screwed.”

  The silent soldiers were almost gentle as they pulled Amelia from the floor. When her limp legs wouldn’t support her, one young man stooped down to drape her over his shoulder. He carried her outside.

  Amelia tried to raise her head to look for a shuttle racing towards Vrill’s home. Her aching neck refused to comply. She listened hard, praying not to hear the whistling sound of Flencik’s arrival. Nothing stirred in the searing glare of the twin suns.

  The soldier lowered Amelia into a seat within a cage inside the military shuttle. She watched helplessly as her ankles were shackled to the floor. The young soldier stepped out of the cage, and he looked at her with pity. He clanged the metal door shut, and he locked her inside. Like I’m a savage animal, she thought, fresh tears rolling down her bruised, swollen face. Her eyes cut to Croft, who sat across from her cage, watching her and fingering the handgun on his hip. He licked his lips. She noticed his erection with no surprise.

  The real maniac runs loose killing innocents, and I’m imprisoned for the crime of falling in love.

  The shuttle’s engine rumbled to life. Amelia groaned, knowing it would take her to her death. Still, her main fear remained that Flencik would meet his as well if he got here now.

  Hurry, damn you! Get us out of here now!

  Even as she thought it, the shuttle’s driver called, “Plasian shuttle approaching at high speed, sir.”

  Amelia’s heart dropped to her shoes. She couldn’t breathe.

  “It’s either her pet dicks or the other slut’s friends. Get us to the transport now and radio ahead for them to prepare for takeoff.” Croft glared at Amelia, stroked his gun, and licked his lips again.

  Amelia closed her eyes in gratitude as the shuttle bore her away, taking from her beloved Imdiko, sparing his precious life.

  Goodbye my clan. I’m sorry for any pain I caused.

  Chapter 17

  Rajhir signed off of the vid back in the clan’s quarters and turned to his Imdiko and Nobek. “Three of our destroyers are en route from a nearby system.”

  “How far away is ‘nearby’?” Breft asked.

  “They’ll be here before nightfall.”

  Flencik halted his frantic pacing, his face working. “That will be too late!”

  Rajhir felt the Imdiko’s rage and despair. Flencik was taking all the blame for Amelia’s abduction by the Earther military. If they didn’t get her back, the clan leader feared what the big man might do to himself.

  The Dramok understood why softhearted Flencik had let Amelia go to see her friend. First of all, the Imdiko had wanted his Matara happy. He knew not saying a proper goodbye to her dearest confidante Vrill would have made Amelia miserable.

  Second of all, it actually had made perfect sense she would be safer with the Plasian ambassador than in the clan’s quarters. Neither Rajhir nor Breft would have let their Matara out of their sight for one second. However, Flencik possessed not one devious bone in his body. He couldn’t have possibly understood the level of deceit exhibited by the Earther military; in fact the Imdiko still couldn’t fathom how Earther soldiers had attacked Vrill in the hopes of securing Amelia. With this in mind, Rajhir had already told Breft there would be no discipline for their clanmate’s well-meaning mistake.

  Breft had looked at Rajhir in horror at the dictate. “By the ancestors, what makes you think I would wish to punish Flencik for this? Nothing I could do would hurt him worse than he hurts now.”

  The Nobek’s assessment was all too accurate. Flencik had turned into an emotional wreck over the situation. Soon his guilt would overwhelm him, rendering him unable to contribute anything constructive.

  As for Breft, the Nobek stood still, his arms crossed over his chest. If one discounted the display of fangs, his demeanor exhibited watchful patience. His confidence in Rajhir’s ability to sort out this mess kept him quiet as he waited for his leader’s order.

  Rajhir wasn’t so assured he could reclaim Amelia, and it sent a terror he’d never known through his soul. Her absence, still less than an hour old, gnawed at his insides, making it hard to think. Despite the room’s austere appearance in the wake of Flencik’s meticulous packing, the ghostly scent of Rajhir’s beloved’s musk from making love to the Imdiko remained in the air. The aroma added to his grief.

  My beautiful Matara, so innocent and confused. How those Earthers must have frightened you when they took you away!

  Hopefully, fright was the only pain she suffered. If the Earthers succeeded in taking her back to their planet, she would face death, perhaps worse. Flencik’s report of how he’d found Vrill and the horrific injuries she’d suffered threatened Rajhir’s remarkable control.

  What if getting Amelia back proved impossible? How could Rajhir face a lifetime without her? To think he’d never hear her laugh, touch that silky auburn hair, never trace the line of her spine with his fingertips, never suckle the rose tips of her round breasts, never slip into the sweet warmth of her sex again – inconceivable! Existence without Amelia would be a living death.

  Then get hold of yourself, Dramok Rajhir. Collect your thoughts and act.

  “Flencik, calm yourself,” he said. The Imdiko immediately stopped pacing, jerking to attention at the commanding tone. “You had good reason to go along with Amelia’s idea. It made sense the Earthers would come here to try to claim her.
No one would have expected them to go to the ambassador’s home.”

  “I should have known they had more sense than to challenge us directly,” Flencik fretted. He wrung his hands.

  “Even so, you could not have known they waited for her at Vrill’s. Had you not allowed Amelia to go, you never would have found the ambassador in time to help her.” Rajhir smiled grimly. “Israla’s gratitude to you for saving Vrill’s life is allowing us to bring our military into Plasian space. We can force a confrontation with the Earthers if need be.”

  “What good is Israla’s gratitude when those monsters have Amelia and can take her away at any moment?” Flencik’s voice rose with anguished panic.

  Rajhir stepped to the Imdiko and clamped his hands on Flencik’s broad shoulders. “I need your mind to be clear. You cannot let fear overcome you, or we cannot rescue our Matara.”

  Flencik took a slow, deep breath and straightened. For the hundredth time he said, “I’m sorry, Rajhir.”

  “I know. Keep your head together for me.”

  “I will. I’ll remain calm for Amelia’s sake.”

  “Good.” Rajhir managed an encouraging smile. “We will meet with Israla in her office immediately. According to her, the Earthers took Amelia straight to their transport. We’ll go with the Saucin to the docking area to voice our grievance with the Earthers. Plasius will not give clearance for the Earth transport to leave until this matter and that of their unprovoked attack on Vrill is settled to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  “The Earthers won’t wait for clearance to leave,” Breft growled.

  Rajhir’s smile, more a snarl, returned. “The Earther transport is trapped in a stasis field. Plasius may not have military might, but these people have other ways to ensure cooperation.”

  “A stasis field?” Flencik’s eyes flickered with the first sign of hope he’d shown since his hysterical summons for his clan to join him at Vrill’s home. “Then they can’t go anywhere. We can get Amelia back!”

 

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