by Abigail Myst
With the swipe, she bypassed the security and they were riding up in an elevator.
“How much?” It was like a dirty whisper.
Humility stared at the secretary who refused to look at her. She had a bland elevator expression plastered on her face as she stared intently at the brushed steel door. “Pardon?”
“The offer. How much?” Delilah’s lips hardly moved.
Humility considered lying but then decided there wasn’t much point. “Eight.”
“Ask for ten.”
“But-”
“She’ll pocket the two if you don’t ask,” Delilah said with certainty.
“And you’re just freely offering this information?”
“Might be a price?”
“Might?”
“I like cats,” she said cryptically, but there was no time to question her further. The door was open and Delilah pulled her suitcase through to the bright white office. The single desk in the room was a grand affair of glass and stainless steel. A few green plants were the only real source of color in the room And even those looked like they could use a little time outdoors. Mrs. Grand swiveled in her tall office chair, probably her way of making an entrance. Humility was unimpressed, especially with the new knowledge that Mrs. Grand was padding her pockets and keeping herself in designer high heels off the backs of reluctant brides.
“Thank you, Delilah, that will be all.”
“Yes, Mrs. Grand,” she said meekly and then disappeared back down the elevator.
“Please, have a seat.”
Mrs. Grand eyed her large black suitcase with disdain. When Humility swung her backpack off her back and onto the floor, she gave a disapproving tsk tsk noise that sounded as if she were scolding a child. “You are only supposed to have one suitcase.”
“This is my purse. You wouldn’t deny a woman her purse, now would you?”
Mrs. Grand opened her mouth and then shut it again. She opened the file on her computer. “Right, so this is your standard contract. You’ll need to fill in the beneficiaries, sign and date. I hope you’ve decided how to divide up your eight million-”
“I want ten.”
“What?”
“Ten. People talk. I know they’re not supposed to, but they do. And I did my homework. The going rate’s ten, not eight.” Humility pressed her hand on the desk and leaned forward.
Mrs. Grand’s eye actually started to twitch.
“Everything’s already arranged at ten, so if there are family members that don’t get what’s coming to them, you can be sure one of them will release the little video I made,” Humility said. “And you saw how ready they were to sell me to the highest bidder.”
That was a total lie. There was no video, but the rest was very true. Let her think she was ready to walk away. That’s how you bought or sold anything including, apparently, yourself.
“Sweetie, there’s no need for that kind of talk,” Mrs. Grand said, suddenly dripping syrup instead of venom. Humility knew it was poisoned in either case. “Let me see. I suppose we can work out something. Now here’s the official agreement to sign.”
Humility took the pad with suspicion. The length of time she looked over the contract seemed to unnerve Mrs. Grand. It didn’t seem to differ from the standard volunteer contract that had been published on the internet when they were first drawn up, back when some women actually volunteered to be added to a permanent database that put them in the lottery every day. Some women were just that desperate to marry Mahdfel and escape Earth. At the end of the contract was a standard charity donation box. Humility scrolled down the list and found a cat sanctuary. A hundred grand was a small price to pay for an extra two million. Too bad she’d never get the chance to thank Delilah for the heads up.
Humility took a deep breath, signed the contract and hit the submit button. Now that she knew she wasn’t going to be able to milk Humility for any more money, Mrs. Grand was cool, and disinterested.
“This way.” They got back in the elevator and shortly reached a room with a large circular platform in the corner. A goofy looking man in a lab coat scrambled to his feet in the presence of his boss, and then reached for her suitcase. He grabbed it, and with a neat little swivel, hit her with a gun that punched her arm with a sharp jab.
“Wham. You’re done. No muss, no fuss, as I always say,” he said.
“What the hell was that?”
“A nifty piece of Mahdfel tech. It’s the thing that’ll let you talk to your handsome new piece of Mahdfel man meat.” He actually let out a sexy growl. When he saw that she wasn’t amused, he toned it down. “Sorry,” he shrugged. “Humor and distraction usually help.”
He picked up her case and set it on the platform. Humility bit her tongue and followed to stand beside her luggage.
“Trust me, everything will be fine.”
Humility opened her mouth for a snarky reply, but before she could he slammed his hand down on the button and disappeared in a flash.
Chapter Six
Humility
Humility resisted the urge to hurl. Being shot across the universe was rough on the stomach. She looked at the back of her hands, and then to her palms, counting fingers and wiggling toes, just to make sure she’d made it in one piece. From all appearances, she had.
Once she was fairly certain she wasn’t going to throw up that apple pie she’d eaten for breakfast, Hue took a look around her.
The platform on this end was identical to the one on the other, except it was built in a little shelter, and not actually in any kind of building. She stepped off the platform and to the edge of the shelter.
“Definitely not in Canada, Toto,” she said to herself.
She laughed at her own joke and then peered out at the dense jungle that stretched as far as she could see. The humidity hit her, too, warm wet air that had her peeling off her jacket in no time. Hue circled the structure and found an overgrown path. Hoping it would lead somewhere, she took it, and after a minute, it opened to a clearing. It was maybe fifty feet in diameter, but there was no sign of a place to sit and wait, and no sign of this alien husband she was supposed to hook up with.
If he wanted her that much, where was he?
“Hello!” Her own voice echoed back at her, followed by the loud screech of jungle life warning its occupants of an interloper. “Great. Just great.”
Hue walked back to the platform to where her suitcase sat large and alone. It would do for a bit. She perched herself on the edge and swung her backpack down in front of her. At least she’d come prepared. She had a water bottle and an energy bar that she’d been too nervous to touch earlier. Her stomach still wasn’t settled so she saved the energy bar and took a swig of water.
Despite having the basics for survival, she was not prepared to wait long. There was nothing to do. Nothing to read, nothing to watch, no one to call. She’d left her phone behind, knowing that it would be a useless brick once she left Earth. The thought put a chill through her. She was in an alien jungle on an alien planet, and no one could hear her scream.
Not that she intended to scream. Someone would be along eventually. There must have just been some mix up about her arrival time. Females were too valuable a commodity to just leave alone in the jungle.
Perhaps the entire Mahdfel population had been invaded by those space lizards and no one was coming. Hue stood and looked for some sort of button or screen or something that controlled the transporter. Maybe it had a return to sender function. It was fruitless, though, as it looked like there was no way to input information at all.
She sang to herself and helped herself to an energy bar. Hue eyed her water and decided to start rationing it. She pondered what it would take to survive this jungle. She had packed a utility knife and a lighter. She had nearly her entire wardrobe in her suitcase. The main problem she’d have is deciding if things were poisonous or not. Some of the vegetation looked the same. Apparently, ferns were ubiquitous. They came in all shapes and sizes, but were pretty much
the same as Earth’s foliage.
As darkness fell, she began to think more seriously about how to keep herself alive if no one came. Thankfully, the temperature hadn’t dropped much, and she was pretty sure a sweatshirt would do for a blanket. But the sounds of the animals made her nervous.
Hue eyed the platform. It was the clearest place to sleep, but she had no idea what happened to things already on the pad when new stuff ported in. She could end up with someone’s feet materialized inside her for all she knew. No, it was best to sleep away from the platform.
Staying near it was probably the best idea, considering anyone coming to look for her would obviously start there first, but if morning didn’t bring anyone, she’d have to go in search of water. Hue bunked down in a huddle against one of the supports. Hopefully the scent of alien warrior would make the bigger animals think twice about trying to locate a tasty morsel too near the shelter.
Hue wrapped her sweatshirt around herself and closed her eyes. The sound of the jungle was so foreign to her Canadian ears. She drifted in and out of sleep for hours, not sure how long the night lasted, or even if it would end soon. With the amount of plant life, this planet must get a lot of sun, so she figured it was comparable to Earth. When the light filled the sky, she sighed with a sense of relief.
“One night down.”
Hue would not be a victim. She would not be the girl that people whispered about when their birthday neared. She wouldn’t be the one that died on an alien planet far, far away because her dumb alien husband with his horns and spiky tail and polka dotted skin forgot to pick her up from the airport. He could go suck an egg for all she cared.
“Husbands. Who needs’em? Water, food, shelter, that’s all I need.”
The jungle did not seem too impressed with her declaration. It was definitely alive, and where there were jungle sounds, there’d be jungle meat. Her father had forced Humility and her brothers to live in the wilds of Northern British Columbia, Canada after the invasion with nothing but their wits, a lighter and a knife. She had all that and more. After pulling a few more items of clothing out of it, she left her suitcase front and center in the path to the transporter pad. That way, if someone did finally come looking for her, they’d know she made it in one piece.
Humility looked at her water bottle. Half full. Right. Time for a nature hike. She grabbed a sturdy looking branch as a walking stick, or in the right instance, a useful weapon to bash some creature over the head with. Gathering some rocks, she formed a little arrow pointing in her intended direction and took off through the jungle.
Chapter Seven
Kave
Kave snuck up on the camp. He’d been away for three nights. Hopefully long enough for the rest of the warriors to forgive him for the female carnage he’d left behind. The silly birthday party would be over, and things could go back to normal, though Kave wasn’t sure what that was anymore.
Why Terrans were so concerned by marking the anniversary that they emerged from their mother’s womb was quite a mystery. Kave wasn’t even sure what his date was, nor how to calculate it because he hadn’t been born on Etlon or Terra, so it seemed a bit meaningless to try to even calculate. Perhaps it was because the Terran life span was shorter than the Mahdfel that they were more keen to mark the passing of the time with a party.
Somehow, they’d ganged up on him, staring up at Kave with those pitiful Terran eyes, so that he had no choice but to grant them a monthly celebration. After the conflict involved setting up the first one, Kave was reconsidering his decision. Maybe once he’d left, things had gone more smoothly.
Kave crossed the center of the camp to Command. Things seemed peaceful, but it was still early. The sun had just begun to crowd the two moons out of the sky. The hammocks near the beach swung low and heavy with warriors. Kave considered how long he could hide before someone would approach him with a problem. It depended who was on duty in the command module, and how anxious he was to get back to his mate for a little early morning fun.
When not Kave was not in camp, Brale was the next in command, so Kave was not surprised to see Brale staring back at him when the door slid open. Brale had obviously picked the quiet shift for himself. With a nod, he accepted his relief and left Kave alone with the computers. A glance through the long list of reports sunk Kave’s stomach. He had been neglecting his duty. He buried his head buried in reports for the good part of three hours until Goru entered the command center with a silly grin on his face. Kave even thought he heard the wisp of a hum trail off as Goru spotted Kave and got back to being serious.
“Been feeding your mate again?” Kave asked.
Goru’s mate was plump and round and having a grand time with her new adoring husband. Goru’s smile was all the affirmation Kave needed.
“I would have thought you’d be busy too by now,” Goru said as he sat down at the monitor to start his shift.
“With what? Not going to mate with myself,” Kave spat out bitterly.
Goru stared at him blankly for a moment, the panic building on his green skin.
“But didn’t you get the message? She arrived three days ago.”
Chapter Eight
Kave
Kave stared in blind panic at the Terran luggage next to the platform. It was wet, indicating that it had been through the rainstorm over a day ago. His mate was here. Somewhere.
Humility. It was an odd name, a name that he’d repeated to himself over and over again on lightning fast jet in the craft over to the pad. His tongue practiced the movements before his voice gave them sound.
“Humility!”
Nothing. No sound except the uncomfortable forest. He called again, but nothing. There was an odd pile of rocks, set in a line. He’d seen that symbol before. The Terrans used it to indicate direction. So she’d left of her own volition instead of being carried off. That should have been a relief, but the jungle was full of unfamiliar creatures, and if she’d managed to survive three days on her own, it would be a miracle.
He’d lost his Terran before he’d even met her.
Fuck. Just his luck.
Hope drove him forward. Hope, and the fact that he was the best tracker among Athen’s clan. He would be able to find her, or her body and the thing that slayed her and he would execute it with extreme prejudice. A small bridal gift to offer, but it would have to do.
A switch clicking in his Mahdfel brain, Kave shut down everything except what he needed to track - sense of smell, sight, and sound all heightened. With a whiff of her luggage, Kave caught the first hint of her scent. It was weak, but it touched him to his core. His colors muddled and his cock twitched. Even after three days, he knew this was what other warriors had tried to explain but never could accurately describe in words. A perfect mate match had to be experienced to be understood.
Kave took off through the jungle, following the physical signs and the lingering scent entranced him as he went. There was no tinge of blood, no sign of distress along the pathway, and every step he took lightened his heart.
She was alive. Of course his mate could survive in the jungle by herself. She was his mate. She would be smart and clever and lovely to look at. By now, enough of her scent had gone to his brain that had she only one tooth and one eye, he’d still think her beautiful. RIght now, that didn’t matter. He only cared if she was breathing. The rest was all frosting, as the Terran expression went. He didn’t need frosting. It was generally too sweet to begin with.
Kave pelted his way through the jungle, the images of Humility flitting through his head. The branches that scratched and bugs that bit were easily ignored with such a prize at stake. With his Mahdfel healing, they’d be gone in an hour or two. He might not be the prettiest when he found her, but as long as she could see him through her one eye, Kave was indifferent to his own aesthetic.
Then he smelled it. It was hot and fresh. Kave could taste the scent of blood in the air.
“Fuck!”
Filled with rage that something had touched he
r, drawn blood, he roared out his anger to the trees and ran full tilt toward her. He crested over a thick fern and burst out into a small clearing.
And right into a knife. It dug deep into his side, buried the full length, and then stuck there, out of his chest like some obscene object. He dropped to his knees and stared at the little Terran who looked just as shocked as he was.
“Humility,” he managed to say, just as his lips had practiced, before the blackness took him.
Chapter Nine
Humility
“Shit!” Humility said staring down at the alien with her knife sticking out of his chest. “Fucking shit!”
She’d just killed her new husband. What was she expected to think when she’d heard the roar in the jungle and saw some creature barreling down on her? She knew exactly what she’d thought. She thought that the little fuzzy rodent pig-like thing that she’d managed to catch and dress was a baby and Mama was heading her way. How was she to know that her Mahdfel mate had chosen that moment to holler and come tramping through the bushes?
Humility hovered over him, not sure where to check for a pulse to determine if he was still alive. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. His chest was still rising and falling, if a bit raspy. She’d probably managed to hit part of his lung.
First aid, alien style. Number one was not to pull the knife out. If she pulled it out, he’d probably bleed to death. Cauterize and sterilize the wound. Keep him warm. Fire and water she had. But she didn’t have her knife to cut any bandages, considering it was imbedded in her victim.
Lovely.
“This whole adventure keeps getting more and more-”
She grabbed her backpack and pulled out the little tin foil square that folded out into a blanket. Unfortunately, he was too tall to be fully covered, but she managed at least to get his legs and up to the wound. She laid him out straight. He was a mass of muscle with smooth green skin. She didn’t think he had any hair at all. Perfect pecs, ridges running along his arms, and now that he was passed out, a look of serene peace on his chiseled features. No horns, no tail. Just a mass of nipple-tingling male handsomeness.