by Lil Gibson
He lifted one side of his mouth a fraction and thought it a very good question. Word of her attempted escape would spread like wild fire to the crew of the Miramid. It would probably be viewed with varying negative pre-conceptions, which he began to tick off to himself. His mate intended escape; if he could not control his female, what did that say of him as a leader; he had made the wrong decision in bringing the earth women here and then lifemating with one; it had led them into another confrontation with their enemies…the list could go on and on. It had been difficult to persuade many of his people that this represented an essential course of action. Many just wanted to try to find a cure for the virus and restore fertility to their females. They actively pursued that option, of course; indeed, Carpov and Angel worked around the clock on the planet Jasper, the only inhabited planet of the three available for their survival. The Jasperi, though not particularly advanced technically, and all but defenseless militarily, had given up their main laboratory and three of their top scientists to assist in a cure and antidote for what they had labeled FIS, Female Infertility Syndrome. Even if they came up with a cure, it may not save him now from political ruin. He would lose face. His enemies would rejoice. And what of Cat? Would she stay with him in disgrace or choose to go back to her home planet and her former way of life, but without her friends?
Cat waited for him to speak but how to explain? Maybe he would go with her and live on Earth for the remainder of their lives. He was weary of the responsibility and pain of watching his people suffer. Walking away seemed suddenly an irresistible temptation…however, one he would never take voluntarily. His commitment to his people ran far too deep and ingrained to let him give up his responsibilities. He would stand and fight his enemies in whatever form they took and Catarina would remain by his side to assist him.
"How are you feeling, Catarina? Are you rested?" he whispered with a self-deprecatory smirk. He knew he had confused her with his reaction; he himself was confused at his behavior. He should be railing at her, punishing her for her actions but he could not bring himself to do so. He was the one at fault. He had not told her of his status as leader of his people, had not spoken to her of the sensitive political situation created by the Dargon virus, had not even brought home the significance of the mating mark on her neck. If he had explained these things, the current situation, most likely, would not have arisen. He had miscalculated once again.
"I am feeling decidedly confused. Why did Prolinc force this on my arm; he told me it was permanent, that it couldn't be removed. What is it for?" she finished in a breathless rush. She knew her actions had caused problems, she just couldn't figure out how. She played a very small pawn in a very large game. How could anything she did hurt him in any way? And she wanted to be held and reassured, if he could read her mind, how could he not know that, and if he knew but didn't want to hold her, what did that mean? She peered up at him looking for answers.
He gave her one of his rare smiles and encircled her with his arms, his warmth, and his scent. She hugged him back fiercely, pressing her face into his hard chest. He whisper-purred her name and when she looked up to meet his gaze, he cradled her head with one large hand and lowered his lips to hers in a mind shattering, open-mouthed kiss. He kissed her as he had never kissed her before, with warmth, intense passion, tenderness. The tenderness was new. She reveled in it. When he broke the kiss, she groaned in protest and then heard a small choir of chuckles coming from behind him. They had company. She peeked around him to see a group of unfamiliar faces. She knew without being told which one was Rosik; the rumors about him had not been exaggerated, he looked sinful. Zorroc growled. She smiled.
"What is it Rosik, I am occupied," he grated in a voice filled with frustration and chagrin.
"We heard that an attempted escape, by two of your earth women, had taken place and decided to investigate, but as with most rumors, it proved a great exaggeration—unless you intend to send this one to Nirvana with your attentions. I think perhaps, she already has traveled part of the way.
“Is she yours Zorroc, or can she be shared, I would be delighted to escort her the remaining distance to completion," Rosik offered as he proceeded into the room and stood too closely in front of Cat. The commander exuded such raw, potent sex appeal that Cat grabbed on to Zorroc to keep from being sucked into his vortex. As quickly as the feeling had begun, it vanished. What had happened? Rosik had stilled, in statue mode, in front of her then abruptly moved back three paces.
"My apologies, Mi Divitta, I meant no disrespect," he murmured as he turned toward Zorroc. "Obviously, our assistance is not required but since we are here we will escort you onto our ship in formal procession."
As they proceeded toward the exit Cat mindspoke to Zorroc, asking what had happened back there. He replied that Rosik had tried to trance her then went on to explain that it was a form of hypnotism used by the Gattonians to control others. "He should not have employed it to attract you; in fact it should not be used for sexual attraction or gratification at all; unfortunately not everyone adheres to our strictures. Rosik remains an unrepentant rogue and proud of it. If not such a valued warrior, he would no doubt be reprimanded, and for his conduct toward you, he may very well be," He placed a proprietary hand at the base of her spine. Obviously, Zorroc did not share his toys, Cat concluded; she heard a responding rumble.
Zorroc read the fear and confusion infusing Cat's mind. They had exited the Pod to a formal Gattonian greeting of respect for their leader. Every male and female knelt on bended knee, right fist over heart, left arm extended toward him. He had not expected the show of support they bestowed upon him; he was touched…and embarrassed by their loyalty. He bowed his head; the sign for them to rise; and thanked them for coming to their aide in such a timely manner. He told them that he owed them his life and the life of his mate and that he was more grateful than he could express.
The crew cheered. Gattonians cheering? Cat felt like she had swallowed a golf ball as she stared at the exhibition before her. She stared open-mouthed at Zorroc. Who was he? They treated him like some sort of king or something. Hell, Americans didn't treat their President with that kind of reverence. What had she gotten herself into? A litany that continued to grow with maddening consistency, since first setting eyes on Zorroc. She located Dee and Angel in the crowd to find them almost as stunned as she, herself.
Angel looked positively luminous. Happiness seemed to envelop her like the silvery long flowing gown she wore. She resembled a dark, ethereal angel, which she certainly epitomized. Carpov definitely agreed with her.
The crowd parted for Zorroc and Cat like the red-sea, in order to let them pass. A contingent of guards flanked them. Cat became uncharacteristically subdued as they made their way on to the Jet-quik that would take them to their quarters. She felt them drop rapidly leaving her stomach behind, similar to the times she'd ridden a particularly steep roller coaster. The interior of the ship, though larger and more opulent, reminded her of the Star-ship Enterprise. She began to think that there was no such thing as science fiction…just future science. With all the people she had observed above, she realized the ship must be massive of size, similar to the huge vessel in Close Encounters of the Third Kind…or a medium city the size of Nashville.
Their quarters, beautifully lush and detailed, overflowed with thick, richly colored carpets and intricately designed works of art. Easily twice as large as the quarters they had shared on the Stellar, her gaze swept by and then riveted on to a now familiar crest of massive proportions that hung above the huge platmat, the same crest worn by Zorroc and now her. Who, in heaven's name was this guy?
Zorroc eyed her uncomfortably.
Chapter Eleven
"There are things I should have told you, things you need to know. I will talk and you will listen until I am through, do you understand and agree?" He looked impossibly harsh and serious. How many shoes did this cat man have, because she felt another one about to drop? She nodded.
"I belong
to the House of Ra. It is a powerful house, a ruling house. I am ruler of my province and Supreme Leader of my people, as my father before me, but I am also young and there are those who seek to use this as an opportunity to take my power and strip me of my station. The opposition grew stronger when the Dargons attacked, I sometimes wonder if…but that does not pertain right now. As I stated, I have political enemies that question my strength of command; that is why, when you and Dee staged your escape, it could have been interpreted as a sign of my ineptitude. After all, how can I rule my people when incapable of commanding the respect and support of my mate?”
He continued, “I ask that you show me that respect in the same way you support your friends, I need this from you, and only you can grant it. Will you, Catarina? Your support or lack of it will not change the fact that we are bound. That is permanent."
As speeches went, it scored a direct hit, but the questions he had answered only spawned new questions and the time for answers lay at hand because this time she knew what questions to ask.
"First, answer some of my questions; what does this armband signify?"
"You are very tenacious for one so scattered, my curious Cat. It serves multiple purposes. The emblem encases a very strong tracking device so I will always be able to find you. It designates you as a member of the House of Ra; and it identifies you as mine. The band cannot be removed; it is permanent." His eyes glowed at this last revelation.
"Uh…yours, um…mated; is it some kind of mistress thing or is it more of a wife thing? I never heard you ask whether I would agree to either or anything to you, for that matter," she pointed out cryptically. She wondered why she wasn't more nervous at the prospect of being tied to him; she knew what he meant to her but what did she mean to him; aside from her heritage that is. He knew all of her secrets and she knew so few of his, would he ever confide in her? Well, she would just keep pressing until he did.
He colored, he actually looked ashamed for an instant, but then focused on her and gave her the unvarnished truth. "You know you were chosen because of your Gattonian blood, your mother is from a High House and it became important to choose a mate with strong blood lines and a fertile womb. It further became essential for political reasons; my son will someday rule Gattonia and I want no one to be able to dispute his right to rule because of impure blood. I have advised you that Gattonians, when they mate, mate for life. It is a monogamous binding. There will be no other females for me, and no males for you. We are as husband and wife only more restraining. It is called lifemating and that is the term of our joining."
"You said you belong to the House of Ra; are we talking Egyptian Ra?"
"Ours is the first House of Ra that we know of. Your Egyptians represent a fairly new civilization, similar to your own."
"Okay, then have you ever been to Egypt?" Before he could answer, Cat held up her hands and said, "No, no wait. Have your ancestors ever visited Egypt?"
"Yes."
"Congratulations, Zorroc, you learned a new word today," flashing him a teasing grin before continuing with her interrogation. "There has been speculation for centuries about the pyramids and artworks of Egypt and whether a race from that era could possibly have had the engineering technology, imagination or skill required to build such massive and complex masterpieces." She paused to gauge how her ensuing hypothesis affected Zorroc; he watched her like a newly discovered life form, his attention, fully engaged. "And there has been further speculation as to whether the placement of the pyramids could have been some sort of landing signal for incoming spaceships and the pyramids, themselves, landing platforms."
"You have an awe inspiring imagination, my one," he pointed out softly. "It is one of the many things about you that fascinates me." What fascinated him more, however, pertained to her blatant disinterest in wealth and power. Anyone else in her position would be questioning him about his assets—his monetary assets. Catarina’s focus ran deeply toward people and all living creatures, not monetary trappings. But, what truly captivated and delighted him entailed her dedicated one-mindedness and determination toward solving the mysteries between both her cultures, for in truth, she had one foot clearly rooted in each. A fact he did not believe had yet sunken into her incredibly absorbent mind. It was unfortunate he could not allow her to continue on her present course. Her compliance outweighed all else.
Cat's mind whirled at the possible implications. He hadn't discouraged her theory and where it led. The realities overlapped staggering. "Tell me, I'm on the wrong track."
"Tell me I have your loyalty and support, and that you give yourself freely to me."
"You are exasperating."
"And you could have written the book on it. Tell me, Catarina, say the words," he commanded softly.
She exhaled loudly. "What will my duties be and will there be some sort of a formal ceremony commemorating this romantic and loving union?"
He winced, "I have feelings for you; you must know this. Things between us will be very good once we reach Gattonia and settle in to our new life. There will be a formal mating ceremony when we arrive home. You will have many beautiful gowns to wear and be much admired by all. I am considered quite a catch." He smiled uncertainly at his last comment. He had not been able to read her for the last few minutes. Was she learning to block him or simply pre-occupied or upset? "Do I have your support?"
"Will you answer my questions about your people?"
"Do not withhold this from me, Catarina."
"Do I honestly have a choice?"
"No."
She sighed and relented. "Okay, you have my loyalty and support."
"And you have mine and more," he whispered as he turned to leave.
When had his way with females vanished? She was fragile, almost defenseless, an earth female in an unfamiliar world, depending on him to protect, provide and care for her in the way she cared for him and he had made it sound as if she had no options, no value and little chance for his devotion. He had never had this problem with females before; he had always taken his incredible success with them for granted; it came naturally to him. He considered himself a female magnet of sorts and not simply because of his powerful position among his people. He had been described as polished, attractive, charming, and pleasing to females sexually. His joinings had always ended well; each satisfied and ready to go on to the next partner. The problem, he realized, lay in the fact that apart from their cultural differences, he did not know how to be a lifemate. Providing for the emotional needs of a female eclipsed his experience, let alone an earth female. She had said she loved him and he knew she believed herself sincere but what she had overlooked in her naiveté was that love, her brand of love, lingered as an unessential even undesired ingredient to a successful union. As far as he could tell, love signified little more than a myth made up by males to get their females underneath them voluntarily. He could assure Catarina of hot joinings, mutual regard, and affection for one another. It would please her well, once she became accustomed to it, but anything more he could not provide. How to make her understand that the Gattonian nature espoused sexuality without the pointless corresponding emotions of love, adoration or jealousy?
True, they could be affectionate, playful at times and territorial but it did not emulate the ideal of romantic love. Still, he needed to bridge this gap between them before it could grow much deeper. Her disillusionment and disappointment buffeted him like waves on a shoreline, eroding his resolve.
He escaped to the botanical solarium, his favorite sanctuary, and sat on the floor toward the back of the facility. He fought against the merciless undertow, slowly pulling at his confidence and determination—bonds of responsibility, navigation of political waters, and the emotional quicksand that formed Cat. He had made Catarina suffer for all of it, he now admitted. He had lifemated to an earth woman he barely knew, battling a species that embodied the very definition of genocide, and about to embark on a social challenge never before attempted by his people; and he could not cont
rol any of it.
He lost all sense of time as he sat there weathering the bombardments of duty and obligation but finally, noting his lack of progress toward any resolution, forced himself to rise and take up the battle that shaped his existance.
He headed to the COM room so he could observe his mate and better judge her state of mind. Whoever said earth women were easy, obviously, had never met one. Prolinc lounged before the multiple screens, monitoring the ship through Internal COM Link or ICL when he arrived.
"Your luck with your earth female remains consistent, Zorroc, what did you do to her this time to put her into her present state?"
"I…she…does not understand our ways; it has made her out of sorts."
"Normally, I would advise sending her friends to her, but if they see her like this, your private parts may be in jeopardy; ask a Gattonian who knows." Prolinc would never underestimate his little warrior again.
Dee emerged every bit as capable as his other officers only much nicer to look at. She drew him mentally, as well as physically, and had no intimidation problems with him as most others of his province. They were well matched. Lifemating with Dee, however, would be out of the question; both he and Zorroc were betrothed to Gattonian females, a commitment of honor almost impossible to break. The alliance for Prolinc remained important to his family and future, whereas Zorroc, being the leader of their people, had been able to sever his alliance of honor for the greater good. The son of a concubine could be challenged for the rule; a true legitimate son could not.