by Liza Probz
The Hareema were insidious. They hailed from a planet on the outskirts of the system, a planet that wasn't too different from Zanthar. In its real form, a Hareema was a seven-foot tall rectangular jelly. Not very threatening.
However, it was rare to see a Hareema in its real form. The jellies had the power to replicate any living creature for short periods of time, usually between six and eight hours. The Hareema then had to return to gelatinous form for several minutes before it was able to transform again.
This special skill made the Hareema especially adept at defeating a civilization from the inside out. Many planets had fallen to the Hareema Empire, but not Zanthar.
The Zantharians' ability to emit powerful shocks of electricity worked against Hareema physiology. It forced them to return to their original form. This ability, and a strong planetary defense plan, had kept the Hareema at bay for centuries.
But now it seemed the Hareema had discovered Earth. They planned to use its people as a means of penetrating Zantharian defenses. And Xivthar planned to stop them. By any means at his disposal.
Chapter 8
The tall alien stalked toward her, causing her to reflexively swallow. This regent guy makes me so damn nervous. Nervous and... curious.
She hadn't expected to be taken to his quarters and fed. Nor had he seemed the type to answer questions, and yet that is exactly what he had done.
The Supreme Regent was a handsome creature, she had to admit that now. His eyes were striking, his body in peak form. His smile caused her stomach to flutter.
Snap out of it, Doc, she told herself. You're mixed up in something big here. You've got to keep your wits about you.
He moved back toward her, his skin yellow as a canary.
"Your time’s up," he said, bending to lift her up by her shoulders.
"Put me down!" Her legs dangled, but this time she didn't bother trying to kick him.
"Are you working with the Hareema? Yes or no?"
"For the last time, I don't know any Hareema!"
His features tightened, and his hands gripped her harder. "This is going to hurt."
"What?"
A wave of light started at his chest and flashed down his arms. Before she could blink it was flowing through her. A burst of electricity.
Sylvie screamed, her body twitching as the shock burned through her. She went limp, her head lolling on her shoulder as her mind rebooted. Pain lanced her, running along her nerve endings and burning the tips of her fingers and toes.
"I'm sorry," she heard when she was able to focus again.
"Bastard," she managed to whisper. She felt herself being lifted into his arms. She watched the ceiling as he carried her through an opening into another room. The chamber was a series of purple stripes that again reminded her of a seashell.
He placed her on a soft surface that moved ever so gently, like the smallest of ocean waves. His hand pushed back the hair that had fallen into her face, his action gentle and almost loving. It was too much.
"Go away," she muttered, having only the strength to bat at his arm ineffectually.
"I had to be sure," he said. "Now I know you're not Hareema."
"Of course not. I told you my name was Sylvie."
She caught his smile and wanted to curse him for being so handsome and so cruel. He was no longer yellow, but a dark green, almost blue – like the ocean or the sky.
"The Hareema are able to impersonate any living creature, including humans. I had to make sure you hadn't been replaced."
"You could have just asked me."
The bastard laughed. "This was the quickest way. I don't have much time, so expediency was required."
He continued to stroke her hair, his eyes moving along her face as if memorizing her features.
"Now that you know I'm not a replica, will you let me go?"
The muscles in his face grew tense. "Not yet. Just because you aren't Hareema doesn't mean you and your species aren't working with them."
"I swear to you, I know nothing about these shape-shifting aliens. My flight was perfect until we hit the atmosphere of your planet. Something happened, and my ship crashed. Your men picked me up and put me in a cell, and that's all."
"I wish I could believe you," he said, leaning closer. His voice was smooth but firm, like polished stone.
"Then believe me." The words were whispered because of his closeness. It was so damn hard to catch her breath with him staring into her eyes.
"How can I risk it? The fate of my planet depends on my actions here. If you're lying to me..." He sounded conflicted, an emotion at odds with his normal demeanor. It showed in his skin, which was swirling with greens, blues, and purples.
"Trust me. Please." That's all she could think to say. His nearness made her weak.
"You tempt me so. I just have to--" He leaned in the rest of the way, pressing his lips against hers.
His kiss was soft, so soft. He teased hers lips, coaxing her to open her mouth just before his tongue slid across hers, setting off little sparks that made her moan. Without realizing it, she'd reached up a hand on the side of his thick neck, his skin smooth like a human male. Her fingers tangled in the tendrils that flowed down his back past his shoulders, which was softer than she could have ever dreamed.
The regent deepened the kiss, his tongue probing farther. She closed her eyes and sucked on it softly, not sure if her willingness to let him kiss her was in hopes of surviving or to fill her own sensual curiosity. He pulled back and nibbled softly on her lip, a groan leaving him that sent desire straight into her core. She'd never experienced a kiss so right, so good. It was over much too soon, the effects of it leaving her panting like a silly schoolgirl.
Opening her eyes, she watched as the regent's color shifted. Deep purple flashed into yellow before she could blink. He pulled her hands from around his neck and flung them to her sides, then pulled her up once again by her shoulders.
"They sent you to do a job, and by Marivagia, you're gonna do it."
"Mary who?" Her brain wasn't working after the kiss.
"Marivagia, goddess of wandering women." The regent scowled at her. "Never mind. You're going back to your cell."
The seductive timbre of his voice had become cold steel. She'd upset him, and she didn't know how. Had he hated the kiss?
"Look, Your Majesty, I'm sorry."
"Stop calling me that. My name is Xivthar."
"Ok, Ziffer, I'm sorry."
"Xivthar. X-I-V-T-H-A-R."
"Right. How about I just call you X?"
He ignored her, pulling her behind him, out of his chambers and into the rounded hallways. Once again she was being dragged along to the lab. She wasn't eager to return to staring at the opaque walls.
"Look, X, I think I've upset you. I'm sorry if you didn't like what we did back there."
He snorted. "It wasn't that I didn't like it, Sylvia. It's that I liked it too much."
Liked it too much? "Then why are you doing this? And it’s Sylvie. Stop using my full name!"
He stopped suddenly, spinning around to grab her face with his overly large hands. "Fine, Sylvie. If I were the Hareema and I got word that the leader of my enemies has an attraction to Earthling females, don't you think I'd use that information to my advantage?"
"But you can't mean me? I volunteered for this mission. No one recruited me."
His eyes narrowed. "A human female, the object of my wildest fantasies, is dropped into my lap and I'm supposed to believe she doesn't have an ulterior motive? That she's so willing to seduce me right after I just shot five milliamps through her?"
Sylvie's jaw dropped. "You kissed me!"
"And you responded. You can't deny that."
This conversation couldn't be more surreal. Sylvie pushed past the regent and stalked down the hallway.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Back to my cell. Four blank walls are better company than you."
She heard his footsteps behind her but didn't slo
w down. It didn't take long for him to overtake her.
"I wouldn't be so eager to return if I were you," he muttered, his black eyes glowing against yellow skin.
"Why is that? Are you gonna lock yourself in there with me and keep pestering me with your amazing Taser trick?"
"I didn't expect human females to be so sarcastic. It isn't an attractive trait."
Sylvie almost stopped, but decided not to engage. She wouldn't give the Supreme Shithead the satisfaction. Soon the membrane comprising the laboratory door came into view.
"Home sweet home," she said as the regent pulled her into her cell.
"You still have questions to answer," he said, his lips pulled back in a scowl.
"I suddenly don't feel like talking," she said and walked to the cushion, sitting down and picking at her nails as if he didn’t matter in the slightest.
"That's too bad, female, because--"
"Xivthar, I need to talk to you." Another alien had entered her cell. A familiar alien. The Minister from earlier.
With the Supreme Regent and the Minister of Defense crammed into her space, the cell felt exceedingly tight.
"What is it, brother?"
The Minister eyed her with distrust. "Not in front of the Earthling."
He jerked his head toward the cell opening then proceeded to exit. The regent looked her over, his skin producing another swirl of colors before settling on a lime green.
He's still upset.
Sylvie was learning to read Zanthar mood cues, and yellow definitely meant "bad mood."
His mouth opened to say something, but before he spoke, he closed it again, giving his head a shake. He turned away from her and walked out of the cell as she let out a big exhale. Being in the Supreme One's presence was stressful. Yet, now that he wasn't here, the cell felt very empty.
It didn't stay that way for long.
The scientist that had first taken her captive entered the cell. His coloring was the lightest purple, like a lilac that almost verged on pink. When last she'd seen him, after her thwarted escape attempt, he'd been aquamarine.
Sylvie's heart rate increased at the sight of him. He'd been the one who'd gotten permission to do his tests on her. Did that have anything to do with why he was in her cell now? Best to find out. Not knowing was worse.
"Here to run your experiments on me?" she asked, hoping her voice came out as flippant as she wanted it to.
"Afraid not," the scientist replied.
"Why not? Lost interest in me?"
"Hardly."
Sylvie didn't like the sound of that. But what she heard next she liked even less.
"No time for experiments. You've been scheduled for dissection."
Chapter 9
When Sylvia left Earth to explore an unknown planet, she'd considered the possibility of a hundred things going wrong. A navigation problem that left her stranded in space. The inability to find any traces of life on the planet. Deadly storms. The endless oceans swallowing her up. Malfunctions. Natural disasters. Failure.
She'd never once thought she might end up strapped to a lab table, about to be dissected.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know," she promised for the thousandth time.
No response.
A light flashed on above her, blinding her. Sylvie struggled against the restraints, trying desperately to escape. The restraints held, and soon she exhausted herself.
She couldn't help comparing her current situation with that of all the life forms she'd poked, prodded, and dissected in her time as a biologist. Had they felt this way? Like they couldn't breathe? Like panic was pressing down on their chest like a boulder?
"I'll never harm another living being again, I swear it," she murmured to herself. "I'll do anything. Just get me out of here!"
Her pleas went ignored.
One of the aliens approached her left side and she stiffened, her heart working hard to push its way out of her chest. It was the lead scientist, the one who'd informed her that she was scheduled for dissection with the same nonchalant tone her mother had used each morning to tell her breakfast was ready.
The alien's skin flushed pink with little purple striations as accents. She hadn't seen one of them turn pink yet.
What the hell does that mean?
Yellow was anger. Maroon seemed to signal anxiety. Purple was...
The regent had turned purple when he'd kissed her. So maybe purple was stimulation of some sort. But pink?
She jumped at the alien's voice. "This is Jark'Khal of the Ministry of Science. It is the fourth turn of the eighteenth rotation in the thirty-third cycle of the new age. Today's subject is an Earthling female, unknown age."
"I'm twenty-seven," Sylvie said. "Graduate of UCLA's astrobiology doctorate program, and the youngest faculty member to ever achieve senior research professor status at MIT."
The alien frowned down at her. Apparently her assistance wasn't required.
"The Earthling female has been scheduled for dissection to determine if there are any technological implants inside her that might have caused the planetary defense shielding to fail. Barring that, we are to look for possible biological factors that may have caused the failure."
Sylvie tried to tell him that she had no implants, and there was nothing biological that she knew of which could have caused the shield to malfunction.
The alien ignored her, rummaging around in a drawer out of her line of sight.
"Laser activated," the alien scientist said, clicking on a machine that hung over her shoulder. "First stage will be to slice through the epidermis layer, systematically peeling back the skin. Then we'll move on to organ removal."
This was it. She was a captive on an alien world, and she was about to be dissected.
Sylvie closed her eyes and tried to focus on better things. The beauty of Earth seen from her spaceship. The first sight of Zanthar, all swirling clouds and deep oceans. The striking gaze of the regent when he stared at her with hunger in his dark, glowing eyes.
Tears squeezed their way out beneath her eyelids as Sylvie resigned herself to finality.
Chapter 10
Xivthar hoped his brother had a good reason for pulling him away from the human female.
"What bad news have you uncovered now?"
His brother Drake's color remained a deep maroon, indicating anxiety bordering on fear. Fear was never a good thing to put on display in front of their people, especially not for the Minister of Defense.
"I've received word from Major Ontarii. He has reason to believe a Hareema operative is already on Zanthar."
The regent exhaled heavily. Since the Hareema had the power to mimic any living organism, the operative could be anything around them. Or anyone.
"Could the Earthling be the operative?"
Xivthar shook his head. "She took a shock big enough to jolt a Hareema into gelatinous form. She's human."
Drake frowned. "It has to be impersonating someone in one of the Ministries. It only makes sense that they'd go after someone powerful, someone with access to our defense systems."
The regent eyed the two guards stationed at the door suspiciously. Protocol required that no Zantharian be alone when a Hareema infiltrator was suspected. Because the Hareema had to change back into their original form, seven-foot tall rectangles of jelly, every six to eight hours, a single operative would have to find somewhere to hide while in its gelatinous state. Working in pairs was hoped to prevent this.
If it didn't, at least the Hareema could be determined by process of elimination.
It was the member of the pair that was still alive.
"If it isn't someone in charge, it would be someone who works closely with someone in charge."
"Like a guard?" Drake approached the pair. "Initiate electrical exchange."
The guards clasped hands, waves of light appearing on their skin, building up the charge. A powerful burst of light flashed between their hands, but their shapes remained the same.
"Wher
e do we go from here?" Drake asked. "Even hourly electrical exchanges and the pair protocol doesn't ensure our safety. There could be multiple Hareema agents, or they could take the shape of another life form, something no one would notice, a plant, or a pet."
His brother was not exaggerating the Hareema threat, but panicking wouldn't help keep his people safe.
"I want a planet-wide curfew established and increased patrols. Anything that appears at all suspicious is to be reported."
Drake nodded, rushing to pull up his display and start sending orders.
"And I want that defense shield back up." Without the shield, they were vulnerable to the Hareema armada.
"We're working on it, but so far we've got nothing. Our scientists haven't figured out how to activate the damn computer, and all of the samples we've taken from the hull and essential systems haven't shown any incompatibility with our shields."
Drake stopped working the console to look at his brother. "We hope to uncover something during the dissection."
"Dissection?" The word made him shudder. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it might be.
"The Earthling. She's to be searched for technological implants or biological weapons."
Xivthar rounded on his brother. "On whose authority?"
"Mine. I am the Minister of Defense. And she is a threat."
Xivthar grabbed his brother by the neck. "She's not a threat. She's just a human female."
"You've lost perspective, brother. I was afraid this might happen."
The regent flashed yellow and slammed his brother into the wall. "I told you I'd take care of that threat. I don't appreciate your meddling."
"Is this what you call even-minded, Supreme One?" The words came out rough, as he was squeezing Drake's neck hard enough to impair his speech.
With a growl, Xivthar released his brother. "A dissection is ridiculous. None of the scans turned up anything on her, and it’s unlikely cutting her to pieces will either. But if we keep her alive, we can question her, or at the very least use her as bait to lure out the Hareema operative."