Alien Interludes

by Tracy St. John

  “You may cal me Israla.” She gave him the warmth of her voice. “Sharing pain as we do invites a little more familiarity.”

  “Then cal me Tyler. With Earth gone, my title is kind of moot now.”

  Israla nodded. “To answer your question, there wil never be anyone like Aserb. There is no point in trying to bond with a man closer to my age who is set in his ways, ways I haven’t shared in the formation of. It would be too taxing.”

  “Too taxing or too scary?” Tyler leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and cupping his face in his hands. He studied her closely. “I think you’re afraid you’l fal in love again. Or maybe you’re afraid you won’t find someone special enough to fal in love with. Maybe it’s a little of both.”

  Israla wanted to refute al he said. “You’re wrong,” she said stiffly.

  Tyler’s expression was irritating with its gentleness. “I won’t deny I’ve been physicaly attracted to the women of your planet. As I said, you are a beautiful race. But every time I contemplate it, guilt rushes in. As if I’m damaging the memory of Heather somehow. You don’t feel that?”

  “Our lovers are dead. We live. There should be no guilt.”

  “Indeed.” Tyler looked away, his gaze going distant once more. Remembering a woman he’d never hold again. “And I know Heather wouldn’t want me to walow in what was and missing out on what could be. But it’s hard. What my brain says, my heart doesn’t want to hear.”

  Israla had nothing to say to that. She wished Tyler would go away now and take his hurt and observations with him.

  * * * *

  “Is everything al right?”

  Israla jerked to awareness at her aide’s question. Her marbled black eyes bright with curiosity, Shisa sat across from her, in the same exact spot Tyler Carter had occupied only four days ago.

  Damn the man. Since their conversation everything seemed to be a reminder of what he’d said. Of him. Israla’s mind was not her own; she’d replayed that afternoon until it seemed burned in her mind. His arguments. The way his expression was comforting one moment, lost in sadness the next. The sprinkling of beard on his strong jaw. How strong and capable his hands looked.

  “Saucin?”

  Shisa’s gentle voice told Israla she’d gotten lost in thinking about Tyler again. The Saucin restrained a sigh of irritation at herself. Realy, she needed to exorcise the Earther from her mind. Even her prodigious sexual appetite had taken a hit. She’d not indulged in a sweet morsel of youth since that day.

  “I’m here, Shisa. I have a lot on my mind. Go ahead with your report.”

  Shisa bowed her olive-maned head. “Plans for the Coming of Age Festival are going wel. You’re scheduled to attend the committee’s meeting in two days. Nearly two hundred virgins wil be deflowered this year.”

  “So many. That must be a record.” Israla frowned. She wondered briefly if Tyler would attend the festival before putting her mind back on her duties. “How are we on our population limits?”

  “Stil wel within safe margins. The last three years have experienced a downturn in births, most notably because of increased play with Earthers.” Tyler wasn’t involved in the increased play. How interesting he’d chosen a path of abstinence in the wake of his grief when Israla had sought to bury the pain in exhaustive encounters. This stretch of non-indulgence had been her longest since emerging from the mourning folowing Aserb’s ilness and death. Every time she thought of summoning a youngling for companionship, her thoughts turned to Tyler.

  Damn it. Why couldn’t she purge him from her mind?

  “What else?”

  “That Earther Colonel – Tyler Carter? He sent a message, inviting you to join him for dinner in his quarters tonight.” Shisa tittered. “I’l be glad to tender your refusal in person, Saucin.”

  “No.” The word came out harshly, surprising both women. Israla swalowed, shaken by the wave of anger that had crashed through her at Shisa’s obvious wilingness to intimately entertain Tyler. With effort, she gentled her tone. “That won’t be necessary, my dear. I have official matters to discuss with the colonel. That is, if Dramok Rajhir has responded to my request?”

  “That was the next matter on the agenda,” the aide said after a moment of silence during which she’d studied Israla with an evaluating stare. Shisa’s fur was very stil, letting the Saucin know she was thinking hard. “His message said he wil broach the subject of moving the Earthers’ trials to the Global Council once he can arrange a private appointment with the Imperial Clan. He feels the matter won’t be treated with anything less than rage at an open council meeting.”

  “The Kalquorians do adore their empress. Any slight to her is taken very personaly,” Israla said, her thoughts touching only lightly on the fate of the Earthers in her care and the intricacies of Kalquorian politics.

  Her mind was more focused on Tyler’s invitation. She was at once intrigued and frightened by the prospect of spending time with him.

  * * * *

  Tyler bustled around his quarters, putting last minute things to rights in anticipation of Israla’s visit. As gracious as ever, Plasius had provided shelter to the Earthers who chose to stay on the planet folowing the war. His apartment might be considered stark with its one room living arrangement. Only toilet facilities were closed off from the rest of the smal space, but the quarters were comfortable. A soft low-back lounger provided both his sitting and sleeping surface, the smal but sturdy table accommodated eating. A wash basin against the wal burbled contentedly to itself as it was constantly kept filed by a smal waterfal. The kitchen was good enough for preparing his simple meals, and with only two uniforms, a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, Tyler hadn’t made use of the large closet, much less the drawers that disappeared into the wal.

  He’d always traveled light, which was a blessing in the tiny apartment that provided even less space than what he’d lived in on board the battle cruiser. Not that he missed the cruiser, which had been confiscated by Kalquor. The instant he’d received news that Chicago was gone in a poisonous exploding cloud, Tyler couldn’t escape the ship fast enough. Al he’d taken from his military abode were his clothes, his photo vid album, and a book reader.

  In preparation for his guest, he switched off the photo vid. Heather’s image winked off, erasing the image of her laughing face framed by windblown blond hair he’d never stroke again.. Tyler experienced a pang of guilty loss, but he felt wrong about having her picture up with Israla joining him for dinner. Not that he planned anything untoward with the Plasian leader. Just having a meal with Israla churned his stomach with equal parts eagerness and bad conscience. Having Heather witness him with another woman, even as just a lifeless picture, seemed like cheating.

  So why am I doing this?

  Simple, realy. Israla was a kindred spirit, someone who knew the pain of losing someone who made life a joy to live. Tyler needed another person who’d had the moorings ripped away from them, who’d been cast adrift to navigate the fathomless universe without the anchor of love. The old saw, ‘misery loves company’ was never more apropos.

  He didn’t need anything else from Israla, as beautiful and enticing as she was. Companionship would be just fine.

  The chime announced a visitor at the door. The Saucin had arrived right on time. Tyler checked his khaki slacks, his white button-down shirt. He’d managed to stay wrinkle-free since dressing, and his brown loafers were polished to a high sheen. He gave himself a final once-over in the mirror before going to the door. His hair had grown out quite a bit since its last military cut, the ruffled gray-dusted waves touching his colar. Brushing it back from his freshly shaved face had tamed it for the moment.

  At his command, the door slid open, revealing Israla standing there with a bottle of blue liquid in one long-fingered hand. His eyes slid over her in appreciation as he looked up to meet her gaze. Tal and wilowy like al Plasians, she had a good six inches on him, but he had to outweigh her by fifty pounds, if not more.

 
She wore a dress of sheer gossamer gold, strategic streaks of more substantial material hiding her assets. The color offset her bronze skin to glowing advantage. She’d dyed her short cap of fur to match.

  The strands of hair wafted back and forth, like gentle waves lapping a beach. Her streaked black marble eyes were outlined by alabaster eyelashes.

  Israla was gorgeous, and Tyler’s mouth was suddenly dry. He cleared his throat twice before attempting to speak. “I’m so glad you could make it, Saucin. Please come in.”

  “We’re on a first name basis, remember?” She smiled and entered the room. Israla seemed to glide, making him feel clumsy and adolescent in comparison.

  “Of course. My apologies, Israla. Please sit down.”

  She folded her long body on the lounger, leaving him space to sit beside her. She offered him the bottle. “I brought leshela. Have you tried it?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure. Thank you.” Tyler took the bottle to the little kitchen and poured them each a glass of azure liquid. Placing the goblets on the tray next to delicate Plasian fruits he’d purchased earlier that day, he returned to the sitting area, placing his burden gently on the table.

  “Where did you get nelus?” Israla asked, plucking a round, red berry from the tray. “It’s out of season and very hard to get right now.”

  “Is it? I wasn’t aware. I found it at the produce market when they opened this morning. Cost a pretty penny.” Tyler winced as he sat down next to her, keeping a good couple feet of space between them. Mentioning price made it sound like he was trying to score points with the Plasian leader.

  “The cargo dock is keeping you busy I take it?” She sipped delicately at her drink.

  Tyler nodded. “Thanks for putting in a good word for me, by the way. The job suits me.” It did too, loading and unloading cargo transports. Manual labor kept him from thinking too much, and left him too tired at the end of the day to do much more than fal onto the lounger and sleep.

  “I hear it does. The dockmaster has high praise for your work.”

  “You’ve been checking up on me?” Tyler was amused to see her bronze skin darken with embarrassment. He tried his leshela and found the smooth buttery flavor very much to his liking. He was shocked when he took the glass away from his lips and discovered he’d drunk almost al of it.

  I’ll have to get a case of this stuff, he thought, feeling relaxation steal over his senses.

  “I admit to taking a personal interest in your situation,” Israla was saying, dropping another nelus berry on her golden tongue. Tyler was fascinated to see how the appendage matched her hair and dress.

  He had a sudden vision of that long tongue twining around his cock. He hurriedly shut the thought down as he went stiff with interest. No, no, no. Tyler was looking for a friend, a sympathetic ear to talk to. He wasn’t ready for a love interest, and even if he was, Israla was the last person in the universe likely to fit the bil. She liked them young, and she liked them for only a week, max.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Israla studied her leshela as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “About chasing young men because I’m afraid of getting involved with someone closer to my age and intelect. Someone I might want to fal in love with.”

  Had he realy said al that? Tyler was having a little trouble thinking around the drink’s effects. On second thought, he might do better staying away from leshela, especialy when he had a beautiful woman in his presence. He had the insane urge to pul Israla close.

  Tyler cleared his throat. “Um, about that. I have to apologize for speaking to you in such a familiar manner. It’s realy none of my business.” Israla smiled, lifting her black eyes to gaze at him. Damn, he wished he could get her to smile like that at him al the time. “Actualy I owe you thanks for being so forthright with your opinion, Tyler. I’ve reached an age where lies, especialy the ones I tel myself, are no longer welcome. I appreciate your candor.”

  “Okay. So what are you thinking along those lines?”

  She sighed, and the smile turned sad. “I believe you’re right. I’m afraid of finding someone else and desecrating Aserb’s memory. I’m also afraid I won’t find someone else worthy enough to share my heart with as I did Aserb.”

  “It’s a conundrum, isn’t it?” Tyler sighed. “We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.”

  “Indeed.”

  “So what do we do about it?”

  “Get drunk on leshela and worry about it in the morning?”

  Initial shock gave way to laughter. Tyler raised his empty glass to Israla before jumping up to refil it. “You’ve got my ful support on that.” He brought the bottle back to the sitting area, refiling her goblet and his own. They kiled it off within an hour and sat down to the meal Tyler had delivered, pleasantly loopy and laughing as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  He was so happy he’d invited the Saucin over.

  * * * *

  Israla was wel aware her staff sometimes referred to her as the Control Queen, and they didn’t always mean it in a flattering way. For a laissez faire people, the Saucin was less indolent and more demanding than most Plasians. She felt no shame for this quirk in her personality. She was the leader of Plasius after al, responsible for an entire planet’s welbeing. She’d carried the population through the greatest trial any had known, the Earther blockade. Due to her care and diligence, no Plasian had starved. None had died during the siege. Her pride was wel deserved.

  The Control Queen had come down from her throne this evening, however. Her detractors wouldn’t recognize her. She’d drunk leshela until her body hummed with quiet joy. The tiny room was a pleasant wash of pastels, blurry and unimportant. Only the very delightful Tyler Carter remained in crystaline focus.

  Everything about the man entranced her. His exuberant masculinity, not as overwhelming as a Kalquorian’s but much more evident than the thin wispiness of her own kind, had Israla wanting to press her body against his. She wanted to walow in his very male scent, its muskiness as intoxicating as the leshela she’d drunk. It made her wonder how Tyler would taste.

  He was laughing at something she’d said, the gravely sound roling pleasantly over her, when the Saucin’s wel-documented control disappeared entirely. She seized his food tray, stil half uneaten, and tossed it uncaring to the nearby table where it clattered, sending bits of food across the surface. Before Tyler could react, Israla clambered onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with her wilowy ones.

  His chuckles died off, and his head slowly tilted back to look up at her. Tyler blinked, a series of expressions drifting across his face in slow motion. Surprise, amusement, and finaly what she wanted to see most: heated lust. His hands closed over her hips and slid her closer so that she felt him hardening against the barrier of his trousers.

  Israla bent her face to his, her mouth homing in to kiss him deeply. Her tongue flicked over the unexpected softness of Tyler’s lips and between to test the smoothness of his teeth. Then further in to run over the velvety silk of his tongue and twine about in a sinuous dance that sent sparkles of delight cascading through her body.

  His big, capable hands slid from her hips to rub over her back, traveling to her neck and flowing down again so he could cup her slight buttocks. The heat of his hands built a fire within her, and she rubbed her dampening crotch over the now rigid member seeking her through their clothing.

  Israla’s hands roamed at wil, mapping the breadth of Tyler’s shoulders, the chiseled planes of his chest, her fingers whispering over the soft fabric of his shirt. She wanted her voracious mouth al over him, wanted to taste every succulent inch of this alien male. Desire made her as anxious as when she’d been a young girl, fresh with the promise of the life before her.

  She struggled with the buttons holding his shirt closed, her eagerness to find Tyler’s bare flesh making her uncharacteristicaly clumsy. He suddenly groaned as if in the deepest, darkest misery. His hands left her grinding buttocks to cap
ture her wrists. Too stunned to resist, Israla alowed him to force her back.

  “We can’t do this, Israla.”

  The Saucin sighed. She’d battled Earther repressions before, the ridiculous propriety their Church had inflicted on them that made them deny the natural urges of their bodies. She smiled at Tyler with long-suffering patience. Her record of seducing Earther males was spotless. No one had denied her yet, and she wanted this man more than she’d wanted al the others combined. Tyler Carter had already lost this fight. He just didn’t know it yet.

  “You want me, Tyler. I can feel it. And I want you.”

  She leaned forward again, eager to capture his mouth with hers. He held her off easily. “You’ve had a lot to drink, and so have I. Neither of us is in any shape to think clearly about our actions right now.”

  “And why does whether or not we’re thinking clearly matter if we’re in agreement that we wish to experience the other?” Israla rubbed against him, hungry to persuade.

  Tyler closed his eyes, as if shutting out the vision of her would help him regain his senses. “I wil not take advantage of you, Israla. I want you, God yes, but it would be wrong of me to accept your invitation in your current state.”

  Israla stopped. Surprise lifted a little of the veil of lust and inebriation. He cared enough about her to not take what she offered, just because he worried about taking advantage?

  A rush of affection swept over her at the Earther’s unexpected kindness. On the heels of that came a stab of fear that she would experience such a fond feeling.

  I should leave now.

  Danger more terrifying than the Earth blockade threatened in the form of this man. With his simple conscientious statement, Tyler had proven himself to be the very thing she’d feared most. A good man, a man who caled not just to her body but perhaps to her very soul.

  Get up. Walk out. Save yourself the pain.