by Alyssa Ezra
The Alien’s Vanished Princess
Space Beasts Book 4
Alyssa Ezra
Copyright 2016 by Alyssa Ezra
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced
in any way whatsoever, without written permission
from the author, except in case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews
and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any
character, person, living or dead, events, place or
organizations is purely coincidental. The author does not
have any control over and does not assume any responsibility
for third party websites or their content.
First edition, 2016
Chapter 1: Lost Sister
“I told Tara that this was a bad idea!” It was all Moira could do not to throw her small, cube-shaped commlink across the room. The Temporan consulate had her on hold again, the hologram sprouting from its top transformed from an image of the receptionist to a bland, flickering sphere. “If she wasn’t such a senseless diva, she’d be back here at home now, and safe!”
“Don’t talk ill of your sister,” her mother said weakly from the hydro-couch across the room. The nest-like piece of furniture was deep and cushy, supporting Mom’s fragile body as she recovered from a broken hip.
Too much time in zero gravity had done a number on her bones, and this was the third time she had been reduced to floating around on the couch as she recovered from a random fall. But spite of her weakness, she still managed to spear Moira with a hard glare from her bright blue eyes.
Moira sighed, and tossed her curly red hair back over her shoulder. “Sorry, Mom. It’s just one of the few times that I hate being right.”
Her mother’s glare softened, and she smiled sadly, reaching up to readjust the bright green cap that covered her bare scalp. “I understand, but what’s done is done, and there’s no point getting nasty about it now.”
Tara had always been her parent’s favorite. Mother, widowed now two years, had cheerfully supported her every crazy idea, up to and including the one that had caused her to disappear. Now that she had been gone for a year, even Mom was starting to give up hope of seeing her again. But Moira was determined to at least give her some closure.
The commlink’s holo flickered, and a tall, female figure in Temporan diplomat’s robes appeared again. “I’m sorry, but we do not have any record of a Tara Green registered as a citizen at the Temporan capitol. Could she have moved to one of the other cities?”
Moira’s back teeth hurt as she smiled in a businesslike fashion. “Considering that she is supposed to be married to your king, I seriously doubt it. Tara Green is an Earth citizen who has vanished on your world, and you and your compatriots have been no help in locating her.”
“I’m sorry, but who are you calling on behalf of?” The white-haired, silver-eyed woman sounded just a touch skeptical.
“Andrea Green, her mother.” Moira’s heart was starting to pound. She knew she was being given the run around. Her mother must have finally have gotten some idea of this as well. “Be aware that if you hang up on me like the last four people I have spoken to, my next call will be to the press. I am quite aware of how much your king values his reputation--”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” The statement came out rushed; there was a click, and the commlink went dark.
“Damn it!” This time she did throw the commlink--but fortunately, it landed with a soft thump in the bank of indoor plants that ran alongside the housing unit’s front window. Outside, Los Angeles smog pressed against the single pane that made up the entire front wall, swirling greenish-brown at high noon. Now and again it would clear enough for her to see the windows of the massive skyscrapers across the street. “Mom, that’s it. It’s time to get the press involved.”
She herself had been against Tara’s leaving from the beginning. The whole idea of her younger sister shipping off to a foreign planet to marry an alien Prince had sounded completely crazy to her. But Tara had obsessed over princess fantasies since back when she was a little girl, and the idea of actually marrying someone who could put a crown put on her head had been too much for her to resist. This is stupid, Moira had tried to explain to her. You don't even know this man. He isn't even human. If something happens to you out there, what are we supposed to do?
But Tara had simply laughed. Nothing's going to happen. These long-distance marriage arrangements are the hot new thing, Moira. If they were dangerous, they wouldn't be so popular.
Moira had known from the smug smile on Tara’s face that she would not be budged when it came to her plans, no matter how stupid and reckless they were. I don't have a good feeling about this.
Well, that's probably because you're afraid to even set foot on the spaceship. Or get seriously involved with a man, for that matter. Tara’s haughty tone had made Moira want to punch her.
I'm not afraid, I just don't want to do it because frankly, the risks are entirely too great. Do you know what it's like to tend to Mom and see what she's going through every single time those brittle bones of hers make a simple fall into an injury that takes her months to recover from? Or what it’s like when she has to get cancer treatments again thanks to all the cosmic rays she’s absorbed?
She had ignored the dig at her romantic life. Moira had chosen to put her career and students first, along with her ailing mother. Flighty Tara had always ignored the importance of the sacrifices that she was making. Besides, it had not been Moira’s fault that most men who showed an interest in her had turned out to be toxic trash.
Tara had simply shrugged. So, I'll take supplements. Mom didn't just make one or two jumps, you know. She was an interstellar pilot for twenty years. She has made Subspace jumps at least a hundred times. I'm only planning to do it once.
Wait, what? But what about coming back to visit?
Tara had preened before answering; looking around disdainfully at the housing unit Mom and Dad had destroyed their health paying for. Why would I want to do that? I'm going to be set up in a palace. You should come visit me instead. We can definitely handle more guests, it'll take the pressure off of Mom on holidays, and believe me, this guy is loaded. You can come to Temporis, have a nice vacation, and then pop back without ever really losing much in the way of time here.
That just makes it weirder. That temporal anomaly means that by the time the holidays roll around, a decade will have passed for you. Tara still hadn’t budged. Moira had reduced herself to pleading at the end. Tara, don't go. You really don't know if you can trust this guy. And Temporis isn't exactly the friendliest planet toward Earth. Seriously, Tara--
Tara had pouted. Stop raining on my parade already. I keep telling you, nothing's going to happen. By the time that you hear from me again, I'll have already married the guy. Once that's done, he's got a straight shot for the entire planetary throne. I won't just be a princess, I'll be a queen. How awesome is that?
But you don't know the guy. What if he turns out to be a complete jackass? Temporan society lets kings choose to have people executed pretty much on a whim. You really want to spend the rest of your life with someone you probably won’t love, and who could kill you whenever he wanted?
That's a funny idea. You think with all the money and power I'm getting out of this I care whether
he's got a good personality or not? That's bullshit. She had laughed at Moira’s shocked expression, and shrugged. Love is for amateurs.
If you say so, Moira had finally dismissed, tired of arguing with her. Tara was one of the most stubborn people that she had ever met. She knew that part of the reason was that her parents had spoiled Tara rotten growing up. Moira, their oldest, a studious introvert, had always struggled to gain their approval. But gregarious, charming Tara had been good at everything that Moira was not.
Whereas Moira had always been bookish, hard-working and athletic, Tara’s primary interests had been popularity, social cachet, and most of all, boys. Boys who would do her homework for her. Boys who would carry her books. Boys--and once she hit sixteen, grown men--who would buy her things. Moira was often ignored for not simpering and flirting, but Tara? All she really had to do to get her way in the world had been to smile, tease, and be pretty--things she had been tremendously good at.
Moira on the other hand didn’t have a manipulative bone in her body, so she had been forced to work for everything in her life. Her sister had laughed at her for that, but Moira hadn’t cared. She wasn't the manipulator.
She wasn't coquettish. She was straightforward, intelligent, and had the kind of ambition that demanded that she work hard and never let up. Ironically, that had made her less of a success than her sister--especially in the eyes of their parents.
These days, she was a public school teacher in California’s Online Education Network, doing her best to provide a hundred students she almost never saw face to face with a personalized education. She knew four languages, she could pilot a variety of suborbital and land based vehicles, and she could program nearly any computer or commlink unit. But none of that had ever seemed to matter to her family. Not as much as Tara, who had risked everything to go be a princess on a foreign planet--and now, might be dead.
“You can’t talk to the press about this, Moira,” her mother was fretting in her weak voice. “If the king gets angry he will take it out on poor Tara. We have to be careful….”
Moira threw up her hands. “Well, what do you expect me to do, then? Just let her go?”
Tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes. “I...I don’t know….”
Damn it. She lowered her arms, and sighed. “I’ll think of something else, then,” she muttered, trying to keep the resentment from her voice.
There was a part of her that just wanted to drop the whole thing. Tara in her enormous, impractical egotism had made her bed; now she could lie in it. But the idea that that bed might be a grave, and that some rich, spoiled ruler might have literally gotten away with her murder, filled Moira with a quiet, seething rage. She wanted to get the truth, and if the truth meant her sister was dead somewhere, she wanted to get revenge on this guy.
She went back to her room, a tiny cube barely longer on a side than her single bed. Her Education Network computer system took up one wall, and she settled into her chair, booting it up. Her eyes narrowed as she considered, and then she brought up the arranged marriage website that had started this whole mess. It didn’t take her long to find the bastard’s new entry.
Brenn, son of Jonn
Age: 35 Earth Years
Height: 2 meters
Weight: 86 kg
Hair: Silver (worn long)
Eyes: Light gray
Skin tone: Very fair
Build: extremely athletic
Current position: Reigning King of Temporis
Income: 120,000,000 Solar Credits yearly
Hobbies: Martial Arts, History and Sociology of Earth System and Colonies, Social Event Planning and Attendance
Seeking: Unmarried, fertile human female age 19-25, for matrimony, children and assistance with social and political obligations.
“Thirty five and you’re looking for a nineteen year old? Creep.” She stared at the entry. There was an option to send him a message at the bottom of the screen. She clicked on it, and stared at the blank field it opened.
She wanted to demand answers from him. She wanted to threaten him with public exposure. She wanted to tell him how much her mother had been crying, and what a weak-shit piece of vermin he was for never answering the multiple queries made in her mother’s name. She came within a hair of starting a venomous letter. But then something occurred to her.
She had never used her name in any of the correspondences with the Consulate, and she doubted any of her messages had ever been sent on to His Spoiled Highness.
Green was also one of the most common Earth family names. If I send him a message he probably won’t know who I am, or that I’m connected with Tara.
What if I use this site to get close to him, and investigate her disappearance myself?
It was a crazy idea. Crazy, and dangerous. But it also looked like it might be her only shot. She hesitated for a little while, and then slowly and carefully started crafting a message.
I am a 25 years old schoolteacher, fertile human female, living on Earth. I am interested in seeing if we would be a potential match. My interests include xenoanthropology, education, and reading.
She added her vital statistics, trying to ignore the nagging worry at the back of her head that he might find her too small, or too curvy. Temporans were tall and slim, and so had Tara been.
Moira was voluptuous and on the small side. Unlike her sister, she had inherited her father’s dark green eyes instead of her mother’s bright blue. Another reason why he might not realize that they were related.
Finally, she added a few recent photos, chewing her lip as she did so. Include the one in the bikini that I barely had the nerve to wear?
She finally added it, stomach flipping nervously. She wrapped up the message by expressing an interest in Temporan culture, government and traditions, and then signed and sent it. She took several deep breaths, closing her eyes to try and calm down. It was done.
Now, she just had to wait, and hope he took the bait.
Chapter 2: Journey to Temporis
Moira sat alone in the small transport’s passenger compartment, staring out of the viewport beside her seat at the stars blurring past. Subspace was strange: everything stretched out into lines of light. Stars, passing planets and moons, even other starships all simply became streaks as the transport ship sped by them.
Her mother had spoken of subspace as routinely as Moira might have talked about grading papers, but somehow that didn't make facing it for the first time any easier. She watched the universe race past her, all too aware of what would happen if the transport struck an unexpected obstacle at this speed. She wouldn’t even have time to scream.
Subspace travel removed the limitations of travel in material space. There was no friction, there were no limits on the top speed of matter, and there was no sense of acceleration or deceleration. It was dreamlike...and not in a comforting way. More like the disorienting, out-of-control unreality of a nightmare.
It had been two weeks since she had sent her initial message to King Brenn. He had seemed strangely eager to get involved with another human woman, and had taken the bait right away. She was terrified of the idea that his eagerness might be because he viewed women like her as disposable. But she wasn't going to know until she got there and dug up some real answers.
Brenn had been charming and highly literate in his messages, asking her about her job, taking a sympathetic interest in her mother's illness, and showing great curiosity about her past. Moira wasn't used to any man paying this much attention to her; it was almost flattering. But on a certain level, that worried her too.
There were two kinds of men who paid this much attention, according to the studies that she had made on the subject. The first kind was a man who was romantically interested. The second was a man who wished to draw a woman in and get her to let down her guard by feigning the same interest. It was a behavior that various serial killers down through the centuries had perfected on Earth and elsewhere.
Moira, very aware of the fact that the summer br
eak that gave her an opportunity to travel like this would last approximately six years on Temporis, fully intended to use the time to find her sister, collect her, and get the hell out of there. But Brenn might be a roadblock in this plan.
In the weeks since she and Brenn had started corresponding, she had learned many things about the interstellar arranged marriage business. There were many, many rumors on the interstellar Net about people who had traveled to other worlds to marry their supposed soulmates, only to vanish, and never be heard from again.
There were a few recorded incidents of missing persons from Earth, and there was one record of a human woman who had actually been scammed, and ended up sold by her ”husband” to a slaver ring. None of this boded well in light of her sister’s disappearance. Moira tried to tell herself that maybe there was another possibility besides finding out that Tara had been left in a shallow grave somewhere. But she was very aware of the fact Brenn, who had supposedly married her before ascending to the planetary throne, was pretending like nothing was wrong.
What did you do to my sister? She thought as she stared out of the viewport. Where is she? Why won’t anybody there tell us what happened? Are they covering for something you did?
Sometimes, even though she was not yet dealing with him face-to-face, it was very difficult for Moira to pretend that nothing was wrong when she spoke with Brenn. They had graduated from exchanging letters to speaking over commlink, eventually with the images on. Apparently, despite the fact that she was shorter and more generously built then women of his own race, Brenn had found her looks appealing.
He himself was incredibly easy on the eyes. Heroic build, flowing white hair, eyes like flashes of silver light in his pale face, he wore a soldier's dark and supple armor and a white statesman's cloak with his crown. She was very aware of the pair of long knives that perpetually hung from his belt, but his manner was always relaxed. Commanding, but friendly and thoughtful as well. Under different circumstances, she could imagine herself falling for him very hard. But again and again, the data files on interstellar serial killers that she had studied as part of her preparation from moving to Temporis had reminded her of how charming murderers could be.