Releasing the Humans from the bunkers was by far my favorite task. We travelled to my own present to witness the fruits of our labor and found most of the bunkers had been subjected to escape efforts already. We threw open the ones that hadn’t. I managed to make contact with Taylor and Briana, who begrudgingly forgave me for deserting the rebels in favor of saving the Earth, all over a nice hot cup of coffee. I haven’t seen Keith or Roxy yet, but maybe one day we’ll come across each other at a crowded intersection or at a job interview, and we’ll remember. Maybe we’ll share a smile, only briefly, a reminder of what’s passed between us, before moving on, back into our own lives. I’m not sure I could maintain regular contact with any of the other rebels—it’s too hard to think of the past.
We’ve destroyed the last of the time machines. Maybe the movies were right—meddling with time is too dangerous to consider in the long-term. We can’t risk someone traveling back to a time before the Human Revolution to uproot our efforts. We have an uneasy peace treaty with the Axylans, who remain in their now clean and beautiful settlements under the watchful supervision of Human police. That’ll get easier, too, as we learn to trust all over again.
And now society is building itself up from the charred remains. I always said Humans are resilient. We’ll build ourselves back up, and soon the city centers will bear no likeness to the state-controlled nightmares that existed under Ayla’s rule. Soon there’ll be busy coffee shops and Chinese restaurants and electronic billboards and book stores. There’ll be memorials, too, for the fallen, in place of the gallows.
As for right now, I’m happy. Something I never thought would be possible in this lifetime, and least of all with a member of the Axylan Tribe. Now Yves calls to me, slides a cool arm around my waist to edge me closer to him. He brings out a rosy color in my cheeks after nine years of being imprisoned without sunlight. He relaxes what used to be tense muscles, he comforts me through nightmares and panic attacks. When I wake screaming, he’s there, a soothing hand on my clammy forehead and soft kisses pressed to my collarbone. When he first noticed that I’d startle each time he entered a room behind me, a throwback to all the times an Axylan would approach from behind to jam the barrel of a gun into my neck, he apologized profusely, with kisses and the promise that from then on, he’d always make a noise to announce his presence, and that he’d never, ever hurt me.
And I believe him.
Our souls have a connection. I can feel that this is right, all the way down to my core, feel a part of him with every beat of my own heart. If I ever had any doubts, they were smoothed away that first time we made love, the gentleness of his caresses, the spark of that first connection as a part of him reached within me to fill me up to the brim with love and tenderness. He is everything I've ever wanted.
It doesn't matter how long it took to get here; how much suffering and fear came before. Now I am happy. I am loved. Finally, I am free.
THE END
Stranded with the Alien
Chapter 1
Carolyn’s eyes traced around the intricate network hovering in front of her. There were about 400 points of light in the hologram, each representing a star. About half of the stars were connected by thin neon strands in a complex three-dimensional web. The strands represented wormholes connecting star systems. Of the 200 or so stars with wormholes, about half of them were occupied by humans. In the time since the development of wormhole travel, the United Human Territories had toured numerous systems and established colonies on many of them. And with the ones found to harbor intelligent life already, the UHT had established active trade with over 40 different species. Carolyn imagined people and goods riding along those neon strands.
At present, her transport vessel was traversing a wormhole, carrying her hundreds of light years away from the Solar System. Colors danced through the ship’s windows as light was swept along with them. On Carolyn’s hologram, their destination glowed red. We will be there within the hour.
She stole a cursory glance at her companion seated on the opposite side of the command center. Now she found it hard to believe he was an alien. The slope of his neck and shoulders was the only thing that gave him away as Dextronin. His trapezius muscles were extremely pronounced, running straight from the base of his skull to his shoulder joint. It was so pronounced in fact that from behind he seemed to have no neck at all. This musculature was the only physical trait that distinguished the Dextronins from humans. Sero, she knew from experience with the race, was in peak physical condition for his species.
Sero meanwhile was focused on a hologram on his own console. Projected directly onto his retina, it made it impossible for her to “eavesdrop” on his work.
“What’re you looking at so intently?”
He glanced over at Caroyln and, with a wave of his hand, made the hologram visible to her.
“I was just looking over the layout of the colony again. It reminds me of some buildings I’ve visited on the Dextronin home world. How long ago was Ex-Sol 217 established?”
“Well the first ‘generation’ ship was launched over 800 years ago, during the inaugural Stellar Migration. They were one of several dozen ships launched in that time. People presumed that FTL travel was impossible. The Solar System had been colonized. Humanity was ready to conquer the final, final frontier.” Carolyn got up from her chair and stretched her arms high above her head and then arched back a little to get the kinks out. She realized halfway into it that she was treating Sero to quite a view of her rather ample chest. Did I do that subconsciously? As there seemed to be notice of it from Sero, she finished her stretch.
“I don’t know that I’d say they were ready. Half of those generation ships failed before reaching their target. Many human lives were lost, all for the sake of colonial zeal,” Sero pointed out.
Carolyn smirked. “You’re just jealous because your people only managed to colonize your own system. Humanity had to come along and open up the rest of the universe to you with our wormholes.”
“Right,” Sero said no small amount of sarcasm. “At this distance from the Solar System, I’d estimate their ship must have traveled for at least 400 years. So they’ve been established in their new system for about the same amount of time, 400 years. What else do we know? I was grabbed for this mission last minute.”
“Not much I’m afraid. A wormhole was established a decade ago in the nearby system. That led to the first radio contact with them in centuries. The colonists initially refused to respond to any messages from UHT. We only heard their surface chatter. They remained quiet until we sent a message that mentioned the fact that humanity had made contact with multiple extraterrestrial species. That seemed to peak there interest and they sent a message to UHT stating they would allow for the construction of a wormhole to their system, but they would only interact directly with an extraterrestrial—not a human delegate. Once that message was received, the wormhole was established and you and I were scooped up by UHT to make contact.”
“You know, I’m really not a diplomat.” Sero seemed unusually nervous about this mission. “I was on Earth doing…different work.”
“Well, technically I’m not either. Normally, I’m not sent in until after colonists have agreed to reintegration with human civilization.” Carolyn realized that no part of it was particularly reassuring. “I’m a sociologist,” she clarified. “My specialty is helping isolated colonies integrate into the UHT.”
“So, I guess it is up to me to do the initial negotiations.” Sero forced a smile.
“Well, they did want an alien.”
Chapter 2
Carolyn had visited dozens of colonies and assisted in the reintegration of their people into the larger human civilization. Over the years, the UHT had developed a protocol for these encounters: Rule one—No colony was to be approached until after radio contact had been made. Rule two—If they did not reply to multiple radio messages, then an unmanned probe could be deployed to deliver the message directly.
Mos
t of these colonies, though fully autonomous, were operating under the assumption that they would be hearing from human civilization eventually. They were not normally surprised when representatives of the Solar System arrived. What did seem to surprise them were the wormholes. The colonists’ ancestors had climbed aboard generation ships on the assumption that if FTL travel were possible they would already have discovered it. Carolyn had seen many colonists upset that their ancestors’ trip in a generation ship had been rendered unnecessary by the invention of wormhole travel.
Every colony she had encountered had agreed to interaction with the UHT to one degree or another. Some chose to stay autonomous with only radio contact and occasional, strictly controlled, visits by UHT personnel. Other colonies integrated completely, allowing their people to come and go as they chose and welcoming UHT citizens to visit or take up residence in the newly integrated colony. The latter was considered the most desirable outcome and it was Carolyn’s job to steer things in that direction.
Carolyn was far from confident that EX-Sol 217 was going to integrate completely. She had never encountered a colony so resistant to interaction with the UHT. They had agreed to communicate only through an alien arbitrator. At least it is a step in the right direction.
Carolyn was in her quarters changing when the computer finally announced they had arrived at the designated meeting point. She gave herself a once over in the hologram she had requested the computer project. Mirrors were not practical on a wormhole-traversing vessel as the g-forces would frequently cause them to crack. The 3-D image of herself was less forgiving than a flat mirror would have been. She turned one way, then the next, and thanked her lucky stars she had thought to bring along a two-piece formal outfit. Not only was it more flattering, she did not want to wear the form-fitting flight suit around Sero any more than was necessary. Best not to encourage any “inappropriate” attention. Too bad.
As she examined her image, she imagined how she and Sero would look when they greeted the colonists—his outstanding musculature and handsome features next to her short, voluptuous figure. She couldn’t help but imagine a funny man/straight man comedy duo. Why couldn’t they have paired me with an unattractive Dextronin? The thought was immediately replaced with a cruel reality—these days, there were no unattractive people, no matter the species.
Carolyn pushed the depressing thoughts to the back of her mind. That has nothing to do with the task at hand. She had to prepare for the negotiations. Sero would handle the direct interaction with the colonists’ representatives, as they had demanded, but she would be the one making the decisions, calling the shots. From sheer nerves, she went through a mental check list of everything she knew about the Ex-Sol 217 colonists. All she could do in the end was apply her former experience to the situation. To this point though, the 217s’ behavior had been unlike any colonists she had encountered and she was not sure she knew where to begin.
Chapter 3
Seeing the 217s’ transport was like seeing a floating museum piece. The structure reminded Carolyn of the ships and stations she’d only seen in archival pictures and videos, boxy ships with metallic hulls. The 217s’ rendezvous ship stood in stark contrast to their smooth, sleek, modern ship. Every colony developed their own style, of course, but most that Carolyn had seen were very new age, modern. The 217s’ technology seemed like it had been pulled right out of a spaceflight history hologram.
People in dark, simple flight suits escorted them aboard the rendezvous ship. Carolyn felt a little uncomfortable at not being able to see their faces through their dark helmets. They had batons attached to their hips and for a split second the thought sped through Carolyn’s mind that they were being arrested not escorted. Without exchanging a word, they led her and Sero to their seats. Then they all strapped in for the journey to the colony-planet’s surface.
Carolyn despised zero-g. She always felt awkward trying to maneuver her body around a weightless environment. So far, no colony she had worked with had independently developed artificial gravity, so she had endured the sensation more times than she would have liked. It never got better.
The silence continued on the trip to the surface. Carolyn looked over to Sero. When she caught his gaze, he smiled, but the smile betrayed his own nervousness. Carolyn realized she still knew very little about him. She did not know why Sero had left his own system and was living in the Solar System, what his field of expertise was or what work he did. Her superiors had only told her that they were sending her a Dextronin to do the arbitration.
Sero was probably one of only a handful of available extraterrestrials in the Solar System when UHT had received the 217s’ message. It just made sense to employ one that appeared human to lead the negotiations with an older human colony.
The Dextronin species was still something of a mystery to humans, even though UHT had made contact with them at least a decade earlier. As well as appearing humanoid, they employed the same non-verbal cues that humans did, making them easier to communicate with than most alien species. Their language even seemed to share root words with the standard language of the United Human Colonies. Carolyn recalled the surprise and excitement that had surrounded that first contact.
The Dextronins had been just as surprised to encounter human beings. They claimed to have a solitary, pure Dextronin bloodline going back thousands of years in their own system. To everyone’s surprise, however, when their genome was analyzed the mystery deepened. They were genetically related to humans, but their genes had diverged at least 10,000 years before the Stellar Migration.
In all the intervening years and with all of the scientific testing and examination, UHT still had no explanation for the Dextronin’s existence. This had led to a general mistrust of Dextronins in many UHT citizens. Governments and businesses engaged in trade with them, but a Dextronin walking down the street, on Earth, could expect to be met with dirty looks and derision, prejudice in fact. There had even been a number of cases of violence against them. Only Dextronins who were vitally important to business ventures bothered visiting UHT worlds in person any more. Carolyn had been surprised to learn that Sero was a resident of Earth and apparently seeking citizenship.
The ship touched down on the planet’s surface, jarring Carolyn from her reverie. She was grateful to feel the solid ground under her feet, pushing back against her boots. The gravity of the colony was less than the standard UHT one-g, but anything was better than weightlessness.
From the dock, they were led into the colony proper and down a sterile looking hallway. For some reason, Carolyn grew nervous the further they moved into the heart of the colony. She found herself feeling very claustrophobic. The discomfort only increased when they were deposited in a small, square room with no windows. Without a word, their escorts left the room closing the door behind them.
“Um…” Sero ventured, “I guess, now, we wait.” He tried the door handle, but it was locked. Are they that mistrusting?
The room was sparsely furnished, with only a small rectangular table and two chairs, presumably for Sero and the 217 delegates. Part of the far wall extended into the room, like a bench, and ran the full length. Carolyn surmised that it was meant for additional diplomats to sit and observe.
“Is it just me or does this room seem better suited for an interrogation than a negotiation?” It was Sero who broke the silence again.
“This colony has been isolated for centuries. They’ve had no need for negotiations. But every colony has to maintain law and order, so you may be right on the mark with your assessment.”
The door suddenly opened and three colonists stepped into the room. One took a seat at the table; the other two sat on the bench. They were wearing the same suits as the escorts, helmet and all. Carolyn and Sero shared a confused glance, then Sero took the empty chair at the table. Carolyn sat on the bench leaving several meters between herself and the colonists out of respect. The presumed diplomat appeared to be male, but Carolyn found it hard to distinguish any physical diffe
rences between the three suited colonists. She expected him to remove the helmet, but he didn’t. Instead he extended his hand across the table and held it out, palm up. In it there was a small, black oval device. Sero looked at it for a moment, unsure of what was expected of him. The diplomat extended his reach a bit further, apparently attempting to say “take it”. Sero took it.
The diplomat reached up and pointed to the front left side of his own helmet. Sero examined the oval, turning it over and over in his fingers. One side of it was sticky. After a moment, he pieced together the diplomat’s meaning and gingerly applied the oval to the left side of his own forehead, on this temple. The diplomat laid both his hands on the table and stood.
Another moment of silence. No one moved.
“Woah,” Sero’s surprise broke the quiet and he rose sharply to his feet. “Um... wow,” he chuckled.
Carolyn debated if she was allowed to say anything now that negotiations had begun. She decided it was safe to speak to Sero at least. She had to be able to communicate with UHT’s arbitrator after all.
“Sero.” She kept her voice at a whisper. “What’s happening?”
“Um… Apparently we’ve begun negotiations.” He didn’t take his eyes off the diplomat but gently ran a finger over the black oval affixed to his temple. “I can hear… Well… I’m not sure what. I can hear them. Sort of.” He struggled to find the right words. “Not in words though. Not vocal speech. Not in language like you or I speak. It’s like I can feel their… intentions.” He didn’t seem satisfied with the word.
“What’re they telling you?”
“What’re they telling me? They’re telling me…um. God, it’s like trying to understand the words or sounds of a baby…a super-intelligent baby. They communicate only with their minds like this, so they have never learned words, like we have.”
Romance: Alien Romance: Simply Aliens: A Ten Book Alien Romance Collection (Paranormal Scifi Interracial Romance) (Fantasy New Adult Alpha Short Stories) Page 24