by Cara Bristol
After Tigre had shared what he’d learned from Mysk, Chameleon should be elated, but all he could think about was that he’d lost Kevanne. Not just her, but her love and her respect. She would always remember him as a mass murderer. He sank onto his bunk in despair. He didn’t blame her for running away, for hating him. He’d despised himself for the longest time. He didn’t blame Wingman, either. You’d be a fool to trust a Xeno.
So when Wingman had apologized, he had forgiven him.
“Chameleon?” The Avian’s voice bellowed through the communication system into his cabin.
Forgiveness didn’t mean he was ready to talk to anybody. The briefing had delivered unbelievable positive news, but even that couldn’t override the loss, the numbness.
“I know you’re in your cabin. Get your scaled blue tail to the bridge,” Wingman said. “You need to see something.”
“What is it?” he asked. The energy-matter transformer core had worked like a charm. Once Shadow installed it, they’d cloaked the Castaway and were running a pre-flight check prior to liftoff.
“Kevanne. She’s outside.”
“You mean, here?”
“Yes. Here.”
Chameleon sprang off his bunk, charged down the passage, and burst onto the bridge. The feed from the drone showed Kevanne disappearing down the service road.
“She couldn’t see the ship,” Wingman said. “She thinks we left. Hurry! Go to her. Don’t let your mate get away. Fix the mess I created so I don’t have to feel so guilty.”
Cam flew from the bridge then burned a precious minute to return. “If all goes well—”
“We won’t expect you back tonight.” Wingman grinned. “I’ll tell Tigre to hold the ship until you return. There’s no rush anymore. In light of the news about the refugees—”
Chameleon didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. He ran for the transport bay. He hit the open hatch button, hopped on the scooter, and zoomed after her.
He spotted her, head down, trudging along the graveled path. “Kevanne! Wait! Kevanne!”
She froze. Spun around. “Cam!”
The scooter landed with a thump, and he jumped off and ran.
She flew into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He smothered her apology with kisses. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
“It’s not.” She clung to him. “I know you wouldn’t kill people.”
He hugged her against his chest, inhaling her scent. His heart thumped. He didn’t deserve her, didn’t deserve this, but herian, he’d take it. “I need to explain.”
“No, you don’t. I’m sorry. I know the kind of man you are.”
He grasped her shoulders. “No, I do need to explain because our future and our past has changed. It’s a long story. Can we go back to your house?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!”
He’d transformed to the man from the billboard, and she snuggled up against him on the scooter, her breasts pressed against his back, her thighs gripping his hips, her arms around his waist. After the cloaking shield activated, they zipped to her house in record time.
He stowed the scooter in the garage, assumed his normal form, and clasped her hand, unwilling to be separated for even a minute. Inside, he pulled her to him for a kiss he couldn’t resist, and then he led her to the sofa. “Thank you for coming back for me. For being willing to listen.”
“I love you, Cam. I’m ashamed of how I reacted. How I judged you.”
“I love you, too. You need to know it all, and you can now because of recent changes in our status.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t defend yourself. I looked at you thinking for sure you would deny everything Wingman said, but you never said a word.”
“Because I am responsible. Unintentionally, I set the bombardment in motion.” He took a breath and plunged into the full explanation. “The Xeno Consortium is an alliance of beings who have created other beings by collecting, merging, and replicating DNA. I told you how they started life on many, many planets. What you didn’t know is that they are the most powerful entity in the universe—and they intend to stay that way. Eons ago, they created life and planted it on ’Topia. The ’Topians evolved beyond expectations, to the extent that within a few millennia, they would have the ability to create and manipulate life themselves. The masters feared becoming the mastered and decided to euthanize their creation. I was the lone dissenting vote.”
“So you’re not responsible!”
An entire planet of people had died. With the exception of the few thousands he’d managed to save, an entire civilization had been wiped out. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, minimize the situation.
“No, I am. It was unintentional, but to use an Earth metaphor—I put ’Topia on the consortium’s radar screen.”
Chameleon pressed his lips together. “In retrospect, signs of what the council intended to do were there long before the vote. Everything on ’Topia was scrutinized, analyzed, and documented. They became the subject of frequent discussions. I knew the High Council was concerned, but I didn’t realize the situation was as serious as it was. Many millennia had passed since the consortium had destroyed a project, a civilization.”
“But how were you responsible?”
“I monitored galactic communication and performed threat analyses, reporting to the council on any potential trouble areas—wars, insurrections, invasions, famine.
“I’d become aware of a planet that was foundering, its civilization in danger of dying out. I reported the matter to the council, with a comparison to the ’Topian’s rapid progress. It was just a footnote mentioning that ’Topians had exceeded forecasted maturation, but it alarmed the council. Unfortunately, I had moved on to my next project.” He twisted his mouth. “The next thing I knew, the council had deemed ’Topia an AOC—an area of concern, and handed management over to the planetary proctor for further investigation. I knew then the ’Topians were in serious trouble.
“I recruited allies to assist with possible relocation and searched for other worlds to accept the people while gathering a fleet of rescue ships.”
“How could you relocate an entire planet of people?”
“I couldn’t. It was too late. Logistically, there’s no way to transport millions quickly and secretly. The only chance of survival was to fight off an attack. However, the ’Topians were pacifists, and convincing them to shore up their military was no easy task. I intended to help them, to divert Xeno weapons to ’Topia. I had a contact in the ’Topian government. I knew him as Wisp—which I’ve since discovered was Shadow. I urged him not to trust the Xeno Consortium and to tighten their defenses. At the same time, I managed to sneak about 10,000 people off ’Topia and send them to haven planets. It was a fallback plan. If I failed, at least, the ’Topian species and civilization would survive and hopefully build itself up again. Well, I failed.”
Kevanne squeezed his hand. “Why not tell the ’Topians what was happening?”
“I regret not doing that every day of my life. The consortium has spies everywhere. At the time, I feared the information would get back to the council and they would have destroyed ’Topia immediately—and executed everyone in the opposition. For sure they would have noticed a mass exodus, and the consortium would have tracked them down and destroyed any planet that provided them refuge. I believed I had more time—that the bombardment was years away. But I’d been fed misinformation. The council had set a trap.
“When I discovered the bombardment was imminent, I rushed to ’Topia to meet with their leaders and to evacuate as many people as I could. As soon as I landed, the bombardment began. I’d managed to airlift one large group of refugees when I encountered Tigre, Wingman, Psy, Inferno—and Shadow. I led them to my ship. They didn’t trust me at first. I would have gone back to try to save more people, but Wingman decided they’d have a better chance of survival if they had a Xeno hostage. He didn’t know I was on their side.”
He clenched and release
d his fists. “The situation was hopeless anyway. The Castaway launched. The view of the planet’s surface was horrific. It didn’t look like a planet, but a star, a ball of flaming gas. A Xeno ship monitoring the bombardment spotted us. We had no choice but to flee. They fired on the Castaway and damaged critical systems. We entered jump space on reduced power, sustained further damage, and ended up here on Earth.”
“You’re Xeno, but you’ve always referred to the Xenos as them, rather than us, and you voted against the destruction. What made you different from the other Xenos?”
“The consortium asserts that since they created the other worlds, they own them, and therefore have the right to destroy them.” Chameleon shook his head. “It felt wrong to me. A few other Xenos share my belief in individual sovereignty, and the concept is growing but not fast enough. I was the highest ranking official who held that belief. Living beings have the potential to achieve and accomplish amazing things. If they are created to evolve, then let them evolve! What gives anyone the right to decide the fate of another?
“The council never stated it as such, but the deciding factor to destroy the ’Topians was that they didn’t pay homage. As they advanced, they began to lose their awe of their creators and started to view themselves as equals. On other planets, the Xenos are revered as gods. People pray to them, build churches in their name. Not on ’Topia.
“All beings are of equal worth. Is a child less than the parent who created him or her?” He’d held those concepts for a long time but had never spoken them aloud. He raked a hand through his hair. “To voice such a concept would be considered an act of sedition, and I could have been put to death.” He flexed his shoulders. “I was a seditionist, an insurrectionist, a saboteur of sorts. In monitoring communications, I happened upon Earth, became enthralled with your quaint customs, so I chose to erase the planet’s existence from the database. Now it has become our refuge.”
“You protected us. It’s only fair we protect you.”
“There were so many planets I couldn’t protect. I couldn’t hide them all. And someone will take my place on the council.”
“You need to let go of your guilt. You can only do what you can do.” She scooted closer to him and linked her arm through his. “I love you.”
He pressed his lips to hers in an intimate, healing kiss. How had he gotten so lucky? He’d never dared to hope he’d find a mate. To find Kevanne.
“I love you, too. So much. I believe you’re my genmate,” he said. “We were meant to be together.” It made him wonder if Earth had only been a donor world…or if the Xenos had planted some seeds.
“If you love me, then will you do something for me?”
“Anything within my power,” he said.
“Stop blaming yourself. Let go of the guilt. Let yourself heal.”
“I’ll try.” He tucked her under his arm and leaned against the sofa. “If you’ll do something for me.”
“What?”
“Love me forever. Be my mate. Let us have children and grow old together. We’ll plant and sell lavender. Live, love, and laugh together.”
She pulled away and gaped at him. “It sounds like you’re asking me to marry you.”
He nodded. “The Earth mating ceremony. Yes, let’s do it.”
“But...but…aren’t you leaving—I mean, yes! Yes, I’ll marry you! You’re not leaving?”
He laughed and grabbed her in a hug. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m staying. That’s the next part, the best part of the long story.
“We had two situations forcing us to leave. First, with the consortium hunting for us, we didn’t want to jeopardize the people here. While I was searching for potential haven planets, I’d changed Earth’s coordinates in the database, swapping it out with a barren moon in the Andromeda galaxy. But trust me when I say that the consortium does not leave loose ends. They would never stop hunting for us. The other impetus for leaving was to assist the last group of refugees. There hadn’t been time to secure a safe haven for them. With so few ’Topians left in the galaxy, we had to do everything we could to ensure their survival, so we needed to locate them and lead them to asylum.” He could still hardly believe what had happened.
“We’d wondered why Mysk had been so eager to help us, so accepting of our story. He is a ’Topian refugee from that last ship. They did escape, and they went through the jump. But they got caught in the ripple in time. Mysk and his shipmates landed on Earth fifty years ago.”
“Time travelers?” Her eyes were wide.
“That wasn’t their intention, but yes.”
“Then why didn’t anybody know about them? Other than the extraterrestrials who have arrived through the Intergalactic Dating Agency, I haven’t heard of other aliens visiting Earth,” she said.
“They knew as we did, that if the consortium heard chatter about ’Topians, they would investigate, so they kept their presence a secret. Those who could pass for human, like Mysk, who is a Verital or the shifters who can personify like me, assimilated into Earth society. The others formed communities in remote locations. One of the refugees founded the Intergalactic Dating Agency. She started it to bring aliens to Earth. She figured if people got used to seeing aliens, the ’Topians could better integrate.”
Kevanne frowned. “But isn’t the consortium looking for the ’Topian refugees? If they come out of hiding, won’t that present a greater risk?”
“That’s where the paradox comes in,” he said. “The ’Topians have been here for half a century. Since they went back in time, they weren’t on ’Topia during the bombardment, so the consortium never saw them leave. The consortium isn’t looking for them at all.”
He could feel himself grinning like an idiot as relief and joy ballooned. Now that he had his mate, he could appreciate the incredible change in circumstances. He still hadn’t told her the most important part. “The refugees weren’t the only ones who got caught in the ripple—we did, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“We landed on Earth in the past as well.”
“I don’t understand. You’re here now. Present day.”
“Close but not quite,” he said gleefully. “Shadow was able to intercept the High Council communications on the day of the bombardment and, by piecing together the time signatures from the Castaway, determined that we landed on Earth an hour before we’d left ’Topia.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the consortium believes we all died in the bombardment. It means no ship came after us and followed us into jump space. The consortium isn’t searching for us.”
“So you’re free?”
“As free as we can be. We still need to keep quiet about who we are, where we’re from. We don’t want aliens returning to their home worlds and talking about ’Topians on Earth. If the consortium were to hear that…” He shook his head. “The Intergalactic Dating Agency is going to provide all of us with alternate identities. As soon as that comes through, we’ll be able to live openly. Earth is our home now.”
“Everybody is staying?”
He nodded. “Tigre, Psy, Wingman, and Inferno plan to remain on Earth. Shadow is undecided, but he has options now.” There were several Vaporians among Mysk’s people, so Shadow might be able to find a mate.
“That’s wonderful!” Her face lit up, and she launched herself into his arms. He caught her. Now he could always be there to catch her. “I’m so happy,” she said.
Their lips fused, and he kissed her the way a man kisses the mate with whom he could spend forever. Joy, gratitude, and desire crested. She curled up on his lap, and he caressed her, discovering her body all over again because this time she belonged to him. This time there was no specter of departure hanging over his head.
Lavender infused his senses. He nuzzled her neck. “Did I ever tell you how much I like lavender?” he murmured.
She giggled. “You, too?”
When she whispered they should move to the bedroom, he needed no further encourageme
nt. He scooped her up and shouldered his way to the other room.
Clothing, like their doubts, old guilt, and sorrows, fell away, and body and feelings were laid bare. “I never dared to hope I would ever find my mate,” Chameleon said.
“Neither did I.” She pressed her naked body against him and wound her arms around his neck. “I love you so much,” she said.
“Let me show you how much I love you.” He lowered her onto the bed and did just that.
* * * *
Thank you for reading Chameleon (Alien Castaways 1). As you probably guessed, Chameleon’s fellow castaways will each get their own book! Wingman is next. Read on for an excerpt…
* * * *
Wingman
Alien Castaways 2 (Intergalactic Dating Agency)
Chapter One
“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands. If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands…” A dented white van crept down Silver Avenue for the third time, playing a tinny tune over and over.
“Stop! Stop!” A human girl child raced out of a fenced yard.
The vehicle rolled along, its driver oblivious.
“Wait!” She ran down the cracked sidewalk. “Wait!”
At the end of the block, the driver must have noticed her because the vehicle pulled to the curb and waited. In her haste, the little girl dropped a handful of coins. She snatched them up and took off running again.
Earth culture fascinated Wingman; everything was so alien. Through observation of humans, he discovered many strange and wondrous things—some not so wonderful things, too, but the good outweighed the bad. Curious about the van and what the child wanted so much, he tucked his wings against his body and moved closer. It had rained all week, but today the sun shone bright and warm, causing him to perspire under the concealing cape.
This was one of his rare daytime forays. Usually he ventured out at night when he’d be less visible, but this morning he’d awakened from another bad dream. The helplessness engendered by the nightmare had lingered, so he’d sought some exercise to shake off the emotions. He’d decided to visit Argent, a small town tucked between Lake Coeur d’Alene to the south and Lake Pend Oreille to the north. It had taken less than five minutes to stroll the main street running through town, so he’d expanded his exploration to the surrounding neighborhood.