The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure

by JC Andrijeski

  “It’s not just us being drugged, Jet. It’s them, too,” Tyra whispered.

  The other woman took the stone away from Jet’s hands as she finished, straightening back to her full height. Jet watched, a puzzled frown on her lips as Tyra bent to her boot, pulling out a knife of her own.

  Still watching Jet’s face, Tyra used the whet stone along her own blade, sharpening the edge in a few strong strokes.

  Jet just watched her do it, silent.

  “I can show you things, Jet,” Tyra said. “But not here.”

  Jet stared at her, even more at a loss of words.

  “…Speaking of which,” Tyra went on, winking at her. “Given what I just said, and the challenge match you’ve got coming up, you might want to experiment a little on your own, Jet. Have a nice, friendly chat with your pet Nirreth. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Even when he’s trying to hide it. Anslom has, too. He thinks you should talk to him. He thinks maybe the four of us should talk together. Because, really, Jet, if it’s not you, it might be me up there. Maybe it’s not too late to call this thing off. Or find a way to even the odds.”

  Giving a meaningful glance at the giant woman who was now firing a virtual shotgun at virtual, bat-winged, flying lizards, Tyra arched an eyebrow.

  “We’re going to a party tonight,” she said, switching topics without missing a beat. “You should come, Jet. Bring Trazen. He looks like he could use an excuse to relax.”

  Running the stone over her knife a last time, she smiled again.

  Without warning, she threw the whet stone sharply back to Jet.

  Jet caught it, one-handed, in reflex.

  “See?” Tyra said, smiling wider. “Teamwork. That sells tickets, too. Tell Trazen that, the next time he stings you.” Winking, she added, “Like tonight. At the party. I can show you some more tricks, if you like. Better ones.”

  Jet frowned, wondering if she was understanding Tyra as well as she thought.

  Seeing the look on the other woman’s face, she decided she was.

  Understanding her, that is.

  She still couldn’t believe Trazen had gone to her, that he’d asked Tyra to convince her that what he’d told her about the venom was true.

  Why? Why would he do that?

  Then again, why the hell did Trazen do anything?

  Jet didn’t say anything aloud.

  Instead, she continued to crouch there, her sword, Black, still lying across her lap as she watched Tyra walk away, heading back towards the changing rooms and showers that lived under the stadium. Clutching the whetstone in one hand, Jet shook her head, going back to sharpening her sword with a bemused frown on her lips.

  One thing was for sure: she’d been right about Tyra.

  She never should have listened to Richter and Anaze.

  Her frown deepened as she knelt there, though.

  Now she just had to figure out how to drag Trazen to a party.

  8

  She’s Your Friend

  Trazen didn’t react how Jet expected.

  He didn’t react at all, really… not at first.

  Coiling and uncoiling his tail behind him as he listened to her speak, Trazen stared at her like he didn’t understand her words.

  Even after she finished saying what she came to say, he looked confused.

  Moreover, as he continued to stare at her, Jet got the impression he hadn’t yet recovered from the fact that she’d walked into his private study in the first place.

  He seemed uncertain how to react to her presence there, inside one of his sanctuary zones.

  It had taken her over a half-hour to even find him. He’d been in the furthest wing of his U-shaped house, in the room with all of the wall monitors.

  She’d only glimpsed the room from the doorway once before and had never actually ventured inside, not beyond his first, brusque tour of his estate and his description of this room and its purpose. He’d told her back then that it was one of his primary workspaces for the Rings, and where he coordinated with his Rings Operators and pullers.

  He’d told her not to come in here without him.

  But since he was actually here, standing in front of her, she didn’t feel like she’d violated any of his rules.

  Anyway, she’d knocked.

  He’d summoned her inside.

  Regardless, he’d looked more than a little taken aback when she walked in.

  That might have been why he didn’t interrupt her at first, when Jet launched into her description of the conversation she’d had with Tyra––in truncated form and minus most of the meaning-laden looks.

  She ended on the invitation they’d both received to the party that night.

  It might also have explained why Trazen spent most of that time looking behind her, as if expecting someone else to walk in from the other side of that closed door.

  Either way, when Jet finished speaking, he didn’t speak at first.

  When he did speak, his words surprised her.

  “Yes,” he said, blunt.

  Jet flinched, mostly in surprise. “Yes?”

  “Yes, I asked her to speak to you.”

  Jet frowned. “Well, I figured that. What about the party?”

  “We will go. Send word that we accept. Or have Lulara do it.”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  Jet was staring at him though, bewildered, when he looked away.

  He swished his tail behind him in an unmistakably dismissive fashion, focusing his dark, gold-flecked eyes back on the monitors, his expression concentrated. She couldn’t help noticing he wore a long, sleeveless shirt that showed off perfectly sculpted arms, corded with muscle and such a deep blue color, they were nearly black.

  When Jet still didn’t move, Trazen spoke again, but didn’t look at her.

  “Shut the door on your way out,” he said.

  His voice was blunt, but polite.

  Jet didn’t argue.

  The truth was, she was relieved despite her confusion. She wanted to go to the party. She’d expected a fight, but she hadn’t gotten one.

  Normally, Jet wasn’t big on parties inside the Green Zone.

  Really, since she’d never been to a party before she came to the Green Zone, maybe she simply didn’t like parties. She wasn’t big on any of the fancy Nirreth social events, but she wanted to go to this one.

  She wanted to know more about Tyra, and Anslom, and what Tyra had been proposing.

  She told Trazen only the bare bones of what Tyra said. Jet didn’t fill in any of the gaps around what Tyra had implied, but she assumed Trazen would have picked up on at least some of it. She did tell him that Tyra and Anslom would be open to discussing an alternate scenario for Jet’s challenge match against Bukka.

  She wondered whether, what, and how much Trazen read behind those words.

  She also wondered whether he intended to sting her that night, either before or during the party. It had already crossed Jet’s mind that Tyra explaining the venom thing to her might be Trazen’s roundabout way of telling Jet that he’d go back to stinging her if she learned more about how the venom actually worked.

  If Jet could convince Trazen she wouldn’t get overwhelmed when he stung her, maybe Trazen would agree to do it, even without the antidote serum.

  She hoped that was it.

  If she could convince Trazen she wouldn’t lose control, maybe she could finally get some answers. Maybe he would even go back to stinging her regularly again, and talking to her for hours where she could ask him real questions.

  She was assuming the antidote serum was still off the table.

  By then, Jet had heard similar things from other humans in Trazen’s household.

  Thanks to First Son Isreti, getting those drugs was next to impossible now, even for rich, well-connected Nirreth like Trazen. Isreti had also shut down the human and Nirreth black markets, at least those operating in full view in the center.

  Jet had been talking to the other servants more lately.


  In particular, she’d been talking to the brown-haired woman who was kind to Jet when she first arrived in Trazen’s home. She’d also been talking to one the other human servants called “The Professor.”

  Jet now knew the brown-haired woman’s name was Gretel, and she was married to The Professor, whose real name was Marshall. Both of them seemed to think highly of Trazen, which confused Jet at first, but now mostly made her curious.

  A larger part of her didn’t want to think about how she felt on the personal level, not about Trazen or about Laksri. On the strategic level, she badly wanted Trazen to sting her, preferably enough times that she could get some real answers.

  She wanted to know what the plan was.

  She wanted to know more about what happened after Laksri left Astet.

  She also wondered if Trazen and Laksri were still in touch, and whether Trazen was in touch with Anaze, if not Richter himself. She wanted to know who Trazen worked for, and what those “vows” were that he’d referenced.

  She also wondered what Laksri and Trazen’s relationship really was, and why Trazen seemed to be taking orders from Laksri now––or at least not actively ignoring his wishes.

  She remembered the feeling of being watched in Old Santa Fe, especially inside that museum-like restaurant. Jet wanted to know what that was about, too.

  The questions just hung there now, driving her crazy.

  In the past, Trazen always stung her prior to social engagements.

  Most of those had been formal, however, and included members of the Nirreth elite. He’d also drugged himself prior to stinging her those times… or Jet presumed he had, since he hadn’t tried to sleep with her afterwards, not even when she asked him for sex.

  Jet had her doubts this would be that kind of gathering, though.

  She had no idea if that would change things for Trazen or not, in terms of him feeling obligated to sting her for appearances’ sake. At the rich-people parties, if Jet showed up without being stung, it would raise a lot of questions.

  Her mind spun around that and other questions for the rest of the afternoon, as well as for the hour or so she spent getting ready for the party after she went for a swim with Gretel, Marshall and a few of the other human slaves.

  She’d been trying to decide how much she could tell Marshall and Gretel.

  So far, she’d been erring on the side of caution until she knew them better.

  She was still thinking when the summoning tone went off in her sleeping quarters.

  She gave the answering word in Nargili without looking up.

  She sat on the edge of a long couch, finishing up with hooking the buckle of her second, stone-encrusted sandal as the door began to open. She hadn’t yet gotten to her feet when Trazen walked swiftly inside, his tail lashing behind him as he looked her over.

  He looked at her for what felt like an unusually long time.

  His expression didn’t change, so Jet had no idea what the look meant.

  He glanced behind him before he spoke.

  “I could not get it,” he said, blunt, looking her in the eye that time. “I know you think I am lying about this, but I could not do it. The channels are still being watched. The markets are shut down entirely now.”

  A little taken aback, Jet just stared at him for a beat.

  Then she frowned.

  “So?” she said. “What does that mean? We’re not going?”

  He didn’t answer at first, or even change expression.

  “What does she want?” he said then. “Your friend. Tyra.”

  Jet fought not to make a crack about how Tyra might be more his “friend” than hers. Instead, she glanced around at the walls of the room, much as he had. Meeting Trazen’s gaze, she kept her expression flat.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Not for sure.”

  “But you think we should go?” he said, his voice still neutral.

  Realizing it was a real question, Jet fought the surprise off her face a second time.

  “Yes,” she said. “I could go without you… if you don’t want to go, I mean. They asked for you, but I could make some excuse.”

  “Who asked for me? Her and her Nirreth?” he said.

  Jet assumed he must mean Anslom.

  “Yes. I mean… I think so. I only talked to Tyra. But she mentioned Anslom wanting us both to come. She said Anslom thought ‘the four of us’ should talk.”

  “And you do not think they will try to kill us?” Trazen said, his voice still blunt.

  Jet couldn’t stop her eyes from widening.

  “Do you think so?” she said. “Is that a real concern?”

  He lifted an eyebrow, swishing his tail in impatience.

  “I did not talk to her, Jet,” he said. “You did. I do not know her well, either. You are her friend. Do you trust her? Do you think they might try to kill us?”

  Pausing, he watched her face, waiting for her answer.

  Still fighting disbelief, Jet looked away. Rising to her feet from the edge of the couch, she put her hands on her hips, her mind still whirling around his question. She made more of an effort to think about it that time, but after a few beats, she shook her head.

  “No.” She met Trazen’s gaze, her words decisive. “No, I really don’t think so. I’ve got no proof, just a feeling… but I think she’s scared. I think Anslom might be scared, too. I think they think once I’m gone, Tyra’s probably next. So Tyra saw an opportunity with me, and took a chance. I think she’s thinking safety in numbers.”

  Trazen frowned.

  Again, he glanced behind him.

  Then he motioned with his head for Jet to come towards him. Once she took a step in his direction, he turned around and walked to the closed door, pressing the indentation in the panel to open it.

  Apparently, he wanted her to leave the room with him.

  Barely hesitating, she followed.

  She continued to follow as he led her out of her room and down the wide, high-ceilinged corridor that led to the main entrance of his estate.

  As they walked, she noticed that Trazen had already dressed himself in Nirreth “going out” wear, despite his grilling before they’d left the room. He wore a midnight blue tunic a few shades lighter than his skin, adorned with gold thread. The sleeves were longer than what he’d worn that afternoon in his study, but still showed his long, muscular arms past the middle of his biceps.

  Under the tunic, he wore black leggings that hung more like pants and close-toed sandals of a lighter blue. A blue headscarf wrapped around his head and hung down between his shoulder blades, twisted into a snake-like shape behind him.

  He wore the same copper-colored chain around his neck she’d noticed before, with a sapphire blue stone in a pendant hanging from the nadir of the loop. It was the same chain and pendant Jet had been seeing on him since she got back from Astet.

  Until now, it hadn’t occurred to her to question its presence there.

  Laksri told her that when Nirreth wore pendants like that, it signified they had a companion. Usually, it meant they had an exclusive companion.

  It only now occurred to Jet that the necklace might be about her.

  Before that first Rings match, where she won the rabbit, she’d been too loaded up on venom to question much of anything. Since then, she’d been a little preoccupied by the thought of Bukka being used to assassinate her in the Rings, of Laksri still being alive, of Richter having her family, and Trazen not being anything like she’d thought.

  That hadn’t left a lot of room to think about much else.

  She stared at the pendant now, though.

  She stared at it hard enough, Trazen noticed and frowned at her.

  “Give me your hand,” he said, gruff, holding one of his out.

  Jet barely hesitated before she did as he said.

  Neither of them slowed their strides as she clasped his jointed fingers in hers.

  9

  Going To A Party

  More humans and Nirreth we
re at the party than Jet expected.

  Specifically more humans than she expected.

  A lot more humans.

  In fact, the whole party ended up being nothing like what Jet pictured in her mind before they got there. It was nothing remotely like any of the parties she’d attended since coming to live in the Green Zone, particularly the ones thrown by rich Nirreth.

  Looking around the warehouse-sized space with its looping light fixtures and flaming torches below an open roof, Jet saw a few hundred humans talking and laughing, throwing jokes back and forth, teasing each other, shouting.

  It was louder, more relaxed, more friendly and, well, the most strangely normal-feeling gathering than any she’d ever experienced in such a large group of people.

  No media were present.

  No one appeared to be politicking, or there to conduct business.

  Looking around at all of them in wonder, it struck her that maybe humans were unnaturally quiet around the Nirreth.

  Maybe they’d been unnaturally quiet in the skag pits, too.

  Only the bar and one of the pools lived under an actual roof.

  The rest of the party guests scattered through winding gardens dotted with trees and fountains and statues, so definitely more Nirreth in design than human––although again, nothing like the houses Jet had visited before.

  The sprawling grounds were located in a different part of the Green Zone altogether, although not in the Old Santa Fe section she’d visited with Trazen.

  Instead, they’d taken a trolley ride up the side of a mountain.

  The house lived on a slope, with large, sprawling grounds, and steppes cut into the earth that broke the land into different levels.

  Normally, Jet would have liked being outdoors at night.

  With all of the people and the thumping music, however, she felt disoriented, even though she’d refused all the repeated offers of drinks and other substances––offers she’d been receiving since they’d walked through the door.

  Most of the humans at the party definitely fell into the ex-skag category, in terms of body type and ethnicity.

  It made Jet realize how familiar she’d gotten with some of the more lab-grown varieties of human that seemed to be popping up more and more in the center. She felt strangely more alert around humans like this. Wiry, tough-looking, mostly dark-haired and dark-skinned, they just had something sharper behind their eyes.