The Million Miles High Club (Scifi Alien Romance) (Celestial Mates)

by Suki Selborne

  Before long, I find myself at the edge of a ravine. I look down.

  My beloved is sitting at the bottom, braiding pink vines.

  “There you are!” she says, as though it had been me who wandered off. “Where the hell did you get to anyway?I slid down the side of this damn canyon. People really ought to signpost this sort of thing.”

  I leap down the side of the ravine and take her in my arms, spinning her around until she shrieks. Then I kiss her hungrily and deeply.

  She returns the kiss, but then pulls away.

  “Steady, now. We have to get out of this damn hole before we can get carried away with other stuff. Maybe you should’ve stayed at the top. Can you see a way out?”

  The sides are very steep, and the bank is at least six times my height. I leaped in without considering our escape route. Perhaps Captain Plinaro was right that I am impetuous and impulsive.

  I look around the bottom of the ravine, appraising the raw materials we have to work with.

  “Can you braid some more of those vines? I have an idea.”

  Kalia works quickly and passes me the newly-strengthened lengths as she finishes them. I tie one end to a large rock, securing it carefully so it won’t slide out. Then I knot the new braids onto the old ones.

  Once the rope is long enough, I take careful aim. I throw the rock up so it circles the woody trunk of a gnarled glinterberry bush. On the first attempt, the rock tumbles back down again. It almost hits me in the head, and I have to sidestep swiftly to avoid it.

  I try again.

  The second time, the rock gets snarled up in the branches. That is exactly what I wanted to happen.

  “Nice job,” Kalia says, in a voice that sends blood throbbing to my central areas.

  I tug on the rope. It seems to hold.

  “Climb up this vine,” I tell her.

  “What about you? How will you get out?”

  “I’ll follow you up. But you go first.”

  She doesn’t take much persuading. I watch her progress up the rope. Though I try not to take advantage of the positioning, it is a most enticing angle. The wriggle of her curved rear is hypnotic.

  She reaches the top and throws out a hand to grab the foliage for support. She misses, and the vine rope swings. The rock moves just a little. She screams.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s still holding. Get onto the bank as quickly as you can.”

  Her second grabbing attempt works, and she pulls herself onto the bank with sheer force of will.

  “Get up here, Scorvan,” she says. “I hate to see you down there. My God, I didn’t realize how deep it was. So lucky you were wearing that Wixer.”

  I don’t tell her that I wasted time on pointless searching before I worked out that the Wixer device could help.

  As I pull myself up the vines, I feel the rock slip again. I dig my feet into the side of the ravine for extra support.

  I weigh so much more than a flimsy human, it is not surprising that the vine is less secure. Even so, I am keen to hit the top as fast as possible.

  I use a combination of climbing and abseiling techniques to reach the very top and haul myself over the edge. Kalia jumps on me before I have even had the chance to stand up.

  “God, your muscles are ridiculously huge,” she says, sliding her body over mine. “Let me take a closer look.”

  We kiss tenderly, then more passionately. Her hands run all over my upper body, squeezing the firm mass of my muscles as she sweeps across me.

  I feel my response pressing urgently against my belt again. My desire for this human is like an unquenchable fire. I cannot get enough of her.

  I flip her over so she is underneath me.

  “Oh, yes,” she says, her incredible dark eyes widening. “Make me yours, big boy.”

  I am just about to tear her clothing from her when a red laser spot appears on my chest. I look at Kalia. There is one on hers too.

  We look up simultaneously.

  There beside us stand three large reptiles in mauve suits. The Joadah patrol.

  They say something, but I do not understand them. I do not speak Joadah.

  But Kalia understands them. Her face grows pale as they speak. I watch her eyes widen as she listens to their speech.

  Then she answers them, in what sounds like a made-up nonsense language.

  I look at them, and then at her. She looks seriously rattled.

  “What did they say?” I whisper.

  “We need to get up right now,” she whispers back in Yolcadian. “And you need to push me down on the floor and lead me along by my hair. Maybe talk to me in an angry voice too. Something like that.”

  I stare at her. “Excuse me?”

  “You need to make them believe I’m your slave. Your…” She falters. “Your sex slave. You need to be seen to be belittling me and handling me with no respect.”

  “That is ridiculous. I shall not treat you that way for any reason.”

  “Do it, Scorvan. If you don’t do it, we won’t make it out of here together. Or, possibly, at all.”

  “This is stupid. Why would you ask me to do this?”

  She shakes her head almost imperceptibly. Her eyes are still wide and terrified.

  “The Joadah say they have no quarrel with Yolcadians. But humans…” She trails off. “Their exact words translate as ‘Humans are lunch, unless they are someone’s concubine’. I get the feeling they are deadly serious.”

  I stare at her. “I will kill them. That is what I will do. If they speak to you that way, I will kill them all.”

  “You can’t kill a whole planetful, Scorvan. All we can do is go along with this, for now.” Her genuine terror is alarming. “Just treat me like I’m your slave, and you’re forcing me to follow orders. That way, they might let us leave.”

  “But I cannot allow this.”

  She stares right into my eyes. “Okay. Then look at it this way. It’s not up to you. I’m asking you to do what I want you to do. You claim you’re my fated mate. You can’t refuse me what I ask for.” She raises her eyebrows, like she’s caught me in a clever trap.

  Yet, what she is asking for is simply intolerable. No decent Yolcadian could treat someone like a slave. Particularly not their fated mate.

  But if her life is really at risk — I don’t care about mine, but she is my top priority — then I must protect her, at all costs. By any means necessary, she must be protected.

  I stand up, pulling her up by the hand.

  “Do it,” she hisses under her breath.

  I shut my eyes for a moment, then open them again. I do not know if I can go along with this without snapping and killing those Joadah bastards.

  But I will try. I will try, for her.

  “Get down, slave,” I bark at her, in as harsh a tone as I can manage. She drops to her knees, like I pushed her. Damn, she’s good at play-acting.

  “Yes sir,” she says. She turns away from them, mouthing ‘Thank you’ in Yolcadian.”

  I grab her hair and twist it into one long rope, a little like the vines we just climbed up. The Joadah patrol members lower their lasers. They indicate that we should follow them.

  There is a sinking feeling in my stomach, and foreboding in my hearts. But I walk behind the armed patrol with my beautiful queen on her knees beside me, and my hand wrapped around her twisted hair.

  12 Kalia

  These scaly motherfuckers had better not be leading us too far away. It’s pretty hard to travel long distances on your knees.

  Actually, the ground is amazingly soft and springy. There’s mossy stuff all over. I’m not suffering any scrapes or bruises, luckily. But it’s weird how exhausting it is to move around this way.

  Scorvan holds my hair like a leash. But he grasps it so delicately that I’m sure the Joadah are going to notice. They’re in their reptile form, because they’re on home turf, I guess. Maybe they only flip into their humanoid shape for battles and parties? God only knows. Anyway, Scorvan’s going to
have to handle me a little rougher if we stand any chance of keeping this charade going.

  The Joadah language is obviously included in my LingoKnow® implant software. I knew what the patrol dudes were saying straight away. And I guess I was able to reply immediately too.

  But Scorvan doesn’t have any language implants, and he doesn’t speak Joadah. And they clearly don’t understand Yolcadian.

  This is kind of cool, because it means Scorvan and I can talk about stuff without the Joadah knowing what we’re saying. It’ll be useful when we’re discussing how to escape.

  On the other hand, it’d be nice if Scorvan could understand the Joadah without my translation skills. It’s hard to translate everything for him without blowing our cover. If he has to consult with me before responding, it makes it clear we don’t really have a master/slave relationship.

  We walk — or, in my case, crawl — to a large blue-and-green building. It’s in the shape of an upside-down ice cream cone, with the top much narrower than the bottom. I can’t see any windows anywhere. The door is a triangular shape and opens by sliding down into the floor.

  The Joadah guys take us inside through the triangular doorway, and direct us into a room in what feels like the back of the ice cream cone. It’s comfortably furnished, with a vast couch and fabric drapes on the walls. I can’t tell if there are windows on this side of the building, because of the fabric everywhere.

  “We are friends of the Yolcadians,” one of them says to Scorvan. “However, if you try to leave without permission, we will kill you in front of your whore.” He smiles grimly at Scorvan and ignores me.

  They leave us in there and back out, closing the door.

  “You can get up now,” Scorvan says. He’s clearly uncomfortable with having to pretend our relationship is so uneven.

  “I don’t know if I should get up,” I whisper. “I don’t want to give them the impression that I think we’re equals.”

  Scorvan’s eyes look pained. “We are not equals, beloved mate. You are my superior in every way.”

  “Sshh,” I say, even though it is super adorable. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”

  “They do not speak Yolcadian. Kalia, this is not a good idea. We need to get out of here. I hid the ship, so with any luck they have not yet found it. If we can stock up on boodge shrub, we can convert it to fuel inside the ship. It should not take long to manufacture enough to blast off. We can convert more on the way.”

  “Boodge what?” I feel like I’ve missed some vital information here. But there’s no time to discuss it. “Hey, what do you think they’re going to do with us here? Are we going to be interrogated by Alliance officials or something? What’s the usual procedure?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I predict that we will be examined by officials and perhaps they will let us go, or perhaps they will kill us.” He shrugs. “It could go either way.”

  “Great. I’m so glad I asked,” I say. I’m using a snarky tone to conceal my fear. It probably doesn’t work, but I don’t want to let Scorvan know how nervous I am. I’m worried he might feel like he has to be the hero and smash the Joadah people’s skulls. That will definitely get him killed.

  The door flies open again. I jump, which is good because it makes me look like an anxious slave.

  Four Joadah guys in mauve lounge suits saunter in. They’re not the guys we saw on patrol.

  These ones look ridiculous and surreal, in a deadly sort of way. Big mustard-colored scaly reptile heads hover over round collarless jackets with assymetric fastenings. It’s like an avant garde art film or something. I don’t know for sure, because I don’t watch anything except reruns of twentieth century kids TV on the cosmonet, but y’know. That’s what springs to mind when I look at them.

  “You may sit,” the main Joadah dude says, gesturing toward the couch. I assume he’s the main man, because he has a silver-and-gold jewel-studded belt thing on, and the others don’t. It’s pretty bling, for an overgrown lizard.

  I don’t move, because I’m waiting for my so-called master to officially tell me to do it. Of course, Scorvan forgets, and does the gentlemanly thing where he waits for me to sit down. The two of us are as still as statues.

  “Sit,” the reptile repeats, in an awful slithery voice. I glare at Scorvan to play his role. Fortunately, he then remembers, and sits down.

  “Join me at my side,” he orders. I do as he says, relieved.

  The reptilian Joadah guy addresses Scorvan directly, even though he must know they can’t understand each other. He must be doing it because he won’t lower himself to address a female, or a slave. It’s so dumb.

  “Your slave is very juicy,” he says to Scorvan’s blank face.

  Juicy? Did he really say that?

  Scorvan half-smiles, because he doesn’t know what he just said, and he needs to act polite.

  The Joadah lizard man offers a wide smile full of sharp teeth. “We too wish to taste the juice that drips from your ripe morsel,” he adds. Then he makes a revolting lecherous face and mimes a grabbing motion with his horrible claws. “We intend to harvest every last drop. You may keep the shriveled husk.”

  I’m repulsed, and terrified.

  Scorvan frowns at me. “Translate for me, belov—uh, I mean slave.”

  I hesitate. No point telling Scorvan exactly what he said. Scorvan would go crazy and rip his head off. Then we’ll be killed faster than you can say ‘glinterberry bush’. Which, incidentally, I have never said.

  “He paid me a compliment,” I lie.

  “What kind of compliment?” Scorvan looks suspicious.

  “He said I’m—“ I flounder around for a convincing answer, that won’t make Scorvan blow our cover in righteous anger. “He said I’m pretty.”

  Scorvan narrows his eyes. “I see. That is a simple statement of fact. He had better stop looking at you, though.”

  We’re in luck, because the reptile guys stand up and nod to us, then leave. We’re alone once again in the room.

  “So now what?” I say, picking at a stray alien petal on my pants. It’s colorful, with yellow-and-blue stripes all over. Cute.

  Scorvan looks very serious. He’s even more handsome that way. “I wish I knew, angel of my heart.”

  “You can’t call me stuff like that in here. I’m meant to be your slave.”

  “I told you before. They cannot understand the Yolcadian language.”

  “That doesn’t matter. They’ll see it in your face, or something. Don’t look adoring. Look fierce.”

  Scorvan turns away for a second, then turns back. He’s arranged his movie star face into a something approaching ‘aggressive asshole’. It’s obviously hard for him to aim that fierce face at me, but he does his best.

  I chuckle. “Okay. Close enough.”

  “I am not going to allow this to continue. I will get you out of here, sweet Kalia. I promise you that.”

  “Well, yeah. We’ll fix something up, I’m sure of it.”

  I jump up to try the door, just in case. But it’s locked. Of course it is.

  Scorvan mutters about how he’ll kill every Joadah in here if he has to. I pat his knee and tell him it won’t be necessary, even though I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to get out at all.

  We curl up together on the couch, waiting for the Joadah reptiles to come back. I try to push down the gnawing feeling of dread in my stomach. Judging by what that lizard guy just said about me, I am in deep, deep trouble.

  After what feels like many, many hours, the Joadah still haven’t returned. I’m desperate to pee, and really thirsty again. Plus, my stomach is growling like an Earth grizzly bear. I didn’t eat any of Scorvan’s foraged food back there, and now I’m regretting it.

  “They’d better let me out to go to the bathroom soon,” I wail.

  The second I say that, the door flies open. A female Joadah struts in, in her non-reptile form.

  “You need to come with me,” she says, holding out one vicious-looking
clawed hand.

  I look at Scorvan. His eyes flash with fury.

  “Master, may I?” I say in Yolcadian. Then I say the same thing in Joadah. Thanks to my brain implant, it’s easy to auto-translate everything three ways. I don’t even have to think.

  “I am extremely dissatisfied with this plan,” Scorvan says. He’s taking care to speak with a neutral tone, but his facial expression is going to give us away if he’s not careful.

  “We’ll keep in touch through our Wixers,” I say. Then I add “Don’t look at it!” I stop him just in time before he glances down at the Wixer and accidentally hints at our plan. “We must just hope they don’t know they’re communication devices.”

  Then I say in the Joadah language “Yes, master”.

  I stand up and follow the Joadah female, addressing her in her own language. “May I please use the bathroom?” I say, as meekly as possible. She’d better say yes, or there’s going to be trouble.

  “Of course,” she says. “You will perform full ablutions before you are summoned.”

  I don’t like the sound of any of that, but I smile meekly, taking one look back at Scorvan over my shoulder. He stands in the doorway with the look of a man driven mad with jealousy and… love.

  How can he love me? He only just met me.

  And yet—I never saw that look in any man’s eyes before. He’s letting me know he’s mine. I’m his.

  I’d better make it back to him safely. This dude feels like a keeper.

  “I’m only going to use the bathroom,” I say. “I’ll be back soon.”

  God, I hope I can come straight back to him.

  “Be sure of it,” he says, his eyes burning intensely into my soul. “If they try to stop you returning to me afterward, call me at once.”

  “I will,” I promise. And I mean it.

  13 Scorvan

  I leap up, too tense to sit still.

  I should not have let Kalia go with the Joadah. This Wixer wrist device is no substitute for my loving arms, and vengeful fists.