Alien's Bride: Lisette

by Yamila Abraham

  ***

  Prax-Denay knocked on her door the next morning. She’d left it partially open. She lifted her face from a pillow imprinted with make-up. Her mentor stood with his body sideways to her and spoke into the empty corridor in front of her.

  “I like to start my work days at trector dawn. That’s an hour from now.”

  Lisette inchwormed herself to the edge of the bed. The tee-shirt she’d put on barely concealed her behind. She scooped a handful of blanket up to cover her from the waist down.

  “If you get up now you’ll have time to bathe and eat breakfast before coming to the lab. We’ve a great deal to do today. I want you sharp.”

  She sat on the side of the bed and looked at him. None of what he said required an answer. She wished for an invitation to talk—something forthright enough to let her clear the air between them.

  “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

  Damn it. She needed more than that. She grasped at the puny thread he offered as best she was able.

  “Like…what?”

  Prax-Denay glared at her. “Like you won’t be working in the lab much longer because you’re married to Jorenkis now.”

  “No,” she said in the loudest voice she was capable of. Then she stared down at her feet. “I don’t want…I don’t really...”

  Prax-Denay entered the room and sat on the foot of the bed. His back was to her, so she stared at him freely.

  “You’re not here as a bride candidate. If you don’t fancy him then simply refuse his advances.”

  Lisette felt her stomach tighten into a knot. Pushy people always trampled her. She could fantasize all she wanted about telling Jorenkis off. In reality the words would stay stuck deep inside her throat.

  “I’ll report Jorenkis to Lord Elentinus if he dares to press things against your wishes.” He turned back to glance at her. “Lord Elentinus is your master, you know. Not Jorenkis.”

  She nodded.

  Prax-Denay turned away from her again and took a breath deep enough to make his shoulders rise and fall. She wanted to crawl over and hug him from behind. He seemed to need that, but that action was on par with telling off Jorenkis to her. She could fantasize about doing it all she wanted, but would never budge an inch. (Besides, he might grab her and kiss her and make use of the bed they were on.)

  He continued to sit there. She stayed in place also. The superficial situation was that he’d told her to get up and get ready for work. If that was all that was going on she might have fidgeted enough to get him to leave. That wasn’t what was important, and she knew it with the whole of her heart. Prax-Denay was aching to say more. Unlike her, she knew he wasn’t used to holding back his words.

  They’d had but a single day together. If they could just continue as they had yesterday their connection would evolve naturally. There was no need to rush things with meaningless words. His silence—his hesitation—was more powerful than anything he could say.

  Prax-Denay sighed again. This time he verged on a groan. Lisette felt confused.

  “You might as well know,” he said at last. “Jorenkis is from the highest caste of the Dak-Hiliah. He’s descended from royalty. There’s the opposite end of this spectrum. Where I come from. I’m of the lowest caste. The…foulest.”

  Lisette remained confused. He had to know they were all big blue aliens to her. She could care less about their ranking system. She was a slave, after all. How much lower can you get than that?

  “My people, the Etiken, were considered beasts in our ancient history. The druids have always ordered us to live separate from the rest of society. Etikens are supposed to deal with dead bodies, sewage, trash—all these things are centered in the Etiken district in the Dak-Hiliah capital. We’re…not allowed to interbreed with anyone outside the Etiken caste.” He partway turned back toward her, but didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not allowed to fraternize with you. We’re forbidden to be anything more than colleagues. Do you understand that?”

  Lisette’s lips parted. She didn’t answer despite knowing she was required to.

  Prax-Denay turned further and looked at her. “Well?”

  She lowered her head. Her heart raced, but she still forced out the words. “What happens if we…if we, um…?”

  He became aghast. Then he gave an exasperated smile. He turned his back to her once again and laughed with chagrin. “You’re arguing with me…that’s just stupendous.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  He shot her a narrow eyed glare. “What? Is it just curiosity?”

  Lisette shook her head with the slightest of movements.

  Prax-Denay gave the acrimonious laugh again. Then he balled his hands into fists. “Damn it!” It took moments for him to overcome what Lisette perceived to be frustration.

  “What will happen?” he said through a clenched jaw. “Jorenkis will accuse me of being a fiend who defies the will of the druids—who can’t control himself around a helpless human slave. He’ll demand I be castrated. And those bastards, those self-righteous…they’ll actually agree to it. Even the king of compassion, Lord Elentinus. He made my brother do it, you know. They’ll give me a choice—if you can call it that. Accept castration or go back to the slums.”

  Lisette squeezed her eyes closed. Tears dripped out. The grief hit like a sudden ache behind her eyes. Was it really like that? This was her world now? She buried her face in her hands. This wasn’t enough to stifle her first hiccupping sobs.

  Prax-Denay stood while keeping his back to her. “It’s all…all well enough. I’ve done the responsible thing. Now you know.”

  She snuffled and gazed up at him. He hesitated before her doorway.

  “Your empathy is…touching.” He raised his nose. “Now get ready for the day.” Then he left her.

  ***

  Lisette proceeded as ordered despite struggling with how to find the bathroom (hidden in the molded wall) and then how to work the shower. Once under the hot stream of water she wanted to languish. Now was the time to think things over, to adjust. There wasn’t enough time.

  She donned the last clean set of clothes from her laundry bag. When she went to tell a robot about this she was informed a new wardrobe was being made for her.

  “Um…I don’t…I don’t want to dress like I did last night.”

  “Obviously not,” Prax-Denay said from the end of the corridor. “That would hardly be appropriate for your work in the lab.”

  She went to him with her hands folded together and her head lowered. Prax-Denay made a low sound of approval and led her downstairs.

  Things in the lab started with slow awkwardness, but soon they were working with the same gusto as yesterday. Lisette felt the lab to be her comfortable place, no matter how different all the tools were from what she’d been used to use. She flitted from one station to the next, accomplishing her tasks. Every few minutes she blurted a few words to Prax-Denay to inform him when she was taking an experiment in a new direction. He understood her thinking with little need for explanation. He gave her expressions of enlightenment or praise. Then he focused on his own tasks.

  She got to the point where they needed to work at the same station. Despite their arms rubbing once or twice Lisette wasn’t flustered. They were both too impassioned about the results of the test.

  “There! No effect on the thyroid,” Prax-Denay said. “Have a robot run a three week trail on some moffmits to be sure.”

  Lisette met his eyes with a smile. It was because of their success, not an attempt to flirt, but their faces were close. She saw Prax-Denay swallow. This brought back all the anguish of his morning revelation. Her smile erased and she took several slow steps toward the test animal lab.

  “Quickly! We still have to run the thalamus test!”

  She sped up to a trot. It was easy for her to get back into her work mindset. The midday meal seemed to come way too fast. Then she realized all they’d accomplished. The serum was near ready. They just had to make sure none of the lab animals s
howed the possibility of side effects. Robots would handle the repetitive minutia involved in these trails. She was free to proceed with the next exciting project.

  “Come and eat with me.” Prax-Denay led her to the door. “You should have had a tour of the facility. Jorenkis could have at least done that.”

  They passed his office. The door was open and his chair vacant.

  Prax-Denay harrumphed. “I thought he might show up—now that you’re here. He’s gone back to his old ways. The only time he was around was when he needed to harass me about things important to the council. He’s useless. No skills. No war experience. He barely managed to finish school and he’s never strived for anything. Yet he’s what our society values.”

  Lisette felt the forlorn feelings creeping back. (Though the thought of Jorenkis not being around much was nice.)

  Prax-Denay gestured for her to sit once they were a room with sleek cabinets molded into the walls. He pressed some buttons on a console then retrieved bottles from some random cupboard and sat with her. The bottle offered to her was full of liquid cold enough to cause condensation. Lisette watched how Prax-Denay opened his and mimicked him.

  He didn’t seem to be looking at her, almost conspicuously so, but then he said, “They had you wearing rags at the slave colony. Lord Elentinus should be ashamed.”

  Lisette glanced down at herself. Yes, her sweater and denim skirt was full of holes. All the slaves dressed like this. She’d become too accustomed to notice.

  “You weren’t provided a tailoring machine?”

  Lisette concentrated. “I um…I don’t think so.”

  “Why didn’t you ask for one?”

  She shrugged.

  “You humans use a great deal of nonverbal communication. I could ask you what that means, but I prefer not to. I’d rather just figure you out.”

  A robot came out of no where and brought them two plates of piping hot food along with the stupid alien utensils she’d seen last night.

  They ate several minutes in silence. What a difference from her meal with Jorenkis. Prax-Denay hadn’t asked her what she wanted, but that was because he realized she had no idea about their food. It was considerate of him to select something for her. When she tasted how delicious it was she felt a euphoric surge. This was her idea of bliss. Not being forced to engage strangers. Not being forced to wear a horrible costume. Not thrust into a creepy restaurant on a planet she had absolutely no idea about. No, she would happily eat and sleep where she worked. Prax-Denay provided her with good company.

  He’d already proven himself the smartest scientist she’d ever worked with. A lot of her old coworkers faked the depth of their knowledge. She had to stifle her own skill or they’d become intimidated by her. This always led to them covering their ineptness with anger. She was an easy target. Gullible bosses often believed it when people blamed her for their screw-ups. Lisette never argued. The jobs just weren’t worth fighting for. Her work was moments of insight interspersed between months of tedium. She would have been happier as a housewife.

  Things were so wonderfully different here.

  “You’re quiet, but I can see the wheels of your mind turning,” Prax-Denay said. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  A tiny smile formed. She fought it back. Prax-Denay knew how to make her talk, and with him she actually didn’t mind it.

  “This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

  Now it was his turn to restrain a smile. When she saw that her face turned even goofier. Then he allowed the snort of a laugh to escape. She covered her mouth to giggle.

  Prax-Denay cleared his throat. “Do you like the food?”

  “Mm-hm!”

  “Well, that was clearly a yes, though I’ve never heard it expressed so...”

  She looked at him.

  “Cutely.”

  Lisette giggled again.

  “Stop it.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  “Stop that, too. It’s as if you’re trying to charm me.”

  Lisette shook her head, though with a smile affixed.

  Prax-Denay scoffed and stirred his food.

  ***

  Days passed and Jorenkis remained absent. Lisette ceased worrying about him. She let the meaningful work they were doing absorb her while existing in their happy bubble. Was there a whole planet outside their building? She could care less. The lab was always magically stocked with all they needed (due to robots, no doubt) and work flowed as smoothly as clarified butter.

  There didn’t seem to be the concept of a weekend. Two weeks passed and work commenced every day. Lisette was fine with that. If Prax-Denay had given her time off she would have spent it in the lab fiddling around. She preferred to work with him there. They were in synch. It often just took a glance for her to convey her thoughts. Then he’d point his finger at her due to coming to the same conclusion at the same time. She’d nod and proceed without any doubt that they understood each other.

  The comfort she felt with Prax-Denay, encouraged by convivial lunch dates, grew incrementally day by day. She got up the nerve to ask him for a chair with wheels like the one he had. This led to her rolling around the lab with her legs raised. If she passed to close to him she got the back of her chair grabbed and shoved with enough force to make her squeal.

  Whenever they took breaks to discuss their next projects she would twirl her chair side to side. He started imitating her. This caused warmth inside her, because she knew this was the act of a man much happier than the one she’d started with.

  When their eyes met in those moments of quiet—that’s when other feelings stirred. Beautiful, soft flower petal feelings. He was always the first to turn away.

  They never had dinner together. She would eat alone in the kitchen and he would go to his quarters. There was some meaning to that, but she really couldn’t grasp it. Lunch was no problem; why would dinner matter?

  This was when an aching sadness would drum up inside her. She didn’t want this daily reminder of the wall between them.

  ***

  Lisette heaved her chair a little too hard and had to leap off it before it crashed into a console. A wheel snapped off and bounced comically across the floor. Prax-Denay darted back a glance from his micro-unit. She stood beside the scene of the accident with both hands over her mouth.

  “Ha! Now you’ve done it. No more frolicking for you.”

  His playful chiding was a relief. She glanced at his empty chair. It sat an equal distance from both of them.

  Prax-Denay followed her eyes. “Absolutely not.”

  She ran for it. He darted for it also. Lisette couldn’t stop herself in the moment after he sat. She crashed onto his lap. When she tottered backwards he clasped her in both arms. Lisette burst into laughter.

  “I win.”

  There was a touch of soberness to his voice.

  Lisette looked into his eyes. Her smile went away slowly. The feelings she had inside—the warm fluttery pangs in her belly—they surfaced with such power she blinked slowly with rapture. Prax-Denay’s arms were around her and he wasn’t letting go.

  Lisette draped one arm around his shoulders and let her body press against him. He’d ceased looking at her, but made no move to separate them. For that brief time he merely held her on his lap while she nestled against him.

  “What do you think about…”

  Lisette’s eyelashes lifted.

  “…doing a molecular study on the moffmitts? Just to…be sure…in case there’s a…”

  She lifted her head and kissed him.

  Prax-Denay’s response wasn’t instant. She wondered if his kind even practiced kissing. Then he squeezed her against him and crushed her lips below his own. The sudden passion had her head reeling. She gripped him tighter as their mouths hungrily merged together. His hand coursed over her back, then through her hair. Every touch left tingling trails. Her breasts were fused against him, and her stomach had turned to goo. It was if they floated together on that chair. He broke,
just for a moment, and she saw the ache of desire in his eyes. Lisette met his lips again. She wanted to return to that rapturous place of heady warmth.

  He broke a second time and turned his head away. “Oh gods, stop. We’re not like human men—it’s agony to resist my desires.” She could see his chest heaving with deep breaths.

  The answer was plain to her. “You don’t…have to resist.”

  His acrimonious laugh returned. “I’m talking about intercourse, Lisette. The consummation ritual. Taking you to bed…and…”

  “Uh huh.”

  Now he looked at her. She could see a trace of anger. “I already told you—“

  “But…um…”

  “Talk. I can’t read your mind now.”

  “How will he know? We’re all alone. We’ll usually be alone…right?”

  He turned away again with a furrowed brow. “A secret marriage?”

  She resisted shrugging. Whatever. All she knew was that she had feelings for him that were stronger than she’d ever felt before. Three weeks was too short for a courtship, but she still yearned for him to touch her. And if they could get away with it, then why not?

  “We could never breed.”

  She let herself shrug this time. Sure, she’d wanted kids (a lot of them, actually) but not enough to suffer through a marriage with Jorenkis.

  “Maybe I could get away with this,” he thought out loud, “even if they suspected things. If we always denied it—if we were discreet—if we didn’t try to make a political stand.”

  She stared at him patiently. It seemed unthinkable for them not to proceed. He knew it. She knew it. He might pretend to debate himself, but he was holding to her tightly as he did.

  “Have you any idea what you’re doing?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then how could I possibly drag you into such controversy!”

  Lisette lowered her eyes. It wasn’t really a question, but she’d grown comfortable enough with him to speak without direct prompts. “It’s up to you.”

  He grimaced. “It should be up to you also—but you don’t understand our ways, our eons of history, our segregated culture. What do you even know about it besides what I’ve told you?”