by Rena Marks
“I know,” continued the hologram. “Being placed in stasis for an undetermined amount of time will cause permanent brain damage—namely, complete amnesia. You will enter a planet without communication from your own race. You will be 'reborn' in a sense, on planet Earth, dressed in the clothing similar to what other Earthlings wear. You will be ejected from your stasis capsules, and the ship will implode. Your capsules will dissolve, nourishing your bodies, until you awaken. But once you are awake, you will have no knowledge of who or what you are. You will adapt to the planet and learn to live as a human. It will not be easy. Does anyone wish to resign her volunteerism?”
The room was hushed. Of all the females around the hologram, no one stepped up.
“All right. You are aware of the dangers. One condition of your new life, which all of you already know, is permission granting us examination of you and of any offspring you may bear. Your memories will be wiped clean of each future abduction. However, I'm sure it will be a terrifying experience as you will be as immature as an actual Earthling, who have not even experienced space travel yet.
“Ladies, please step into your stasis capsule. Good luck to every one of you.”
Bubbles floated gently around the hologram, circling around the image. Each oddly dressed female stepped forward and entered the shiny, invisible bubble-like capsule. Once inside, they lay horizontally, seeming to float in air as the capsule expanded around them. Immediately, the inner air collapsed and they fell unconscious.
The hologram was solemn. “God be with you.”
Present day:
The Hunter entered the great room of the Communicator. The man who was normally projected as a hologram sat alone, staring out the grand windows that made up an entire wall of his office.
The Communicator spoke without turning around. “Did you set up the portal?”
“I did.”
There was a brief moment of silence while The Hunter came and stood at the wall of windows also. Together they watched their stars. The community down below. The hovering dots of light that signaled their airborne travel system.
“What did you find?” The Communicator's voice was a whisper. “I know your moods, and this somber attitude cannot be good.”
“Most of the travelers were slaughtered.”
“What?” The Communicator turned his head sharply.
But The Hunter still stared out the window.
“They called our females witches. While they were able to blend in with the clothing we assigned, it was suspicious that so many had amnesia and did not have any previous memories. Panic shifted into frenzy and it grew from there.”
“But witches? That is good, is it not? Why would they have been slaughtered?”
“Apparently, on Earth witches do not have the same revered status they do here. There, they were feared. They were believed to be devil worshipers. Instead of being healers, they were said to cast witchcraft.”
The Communicator's mouth fell open. “They still believe the devil exists?”
“The religion of the people where they landed did. A lot of others around the planet believe the same thing. It may have been better if we had sent them a bit earlier, because the more primitive people who had lived in that location prior gave thanks to the environment. They worshiped the land, the air. They did not believe in the devil. We could have changed Earth's history by sending our females a bit earlier. However, luck of the draw chose one hundred and fifty years ago, when Salem, Massachusetts was already dominated by Puritans. Mass hysteria ensued.”
“We are not to change history,” The Communicator murmured softly. Automatically, almost. But his next words belied his horror. “How many were slaughtered?”
“Ninety-five. However, history has changed the figure to reflect a lot less. Human history tends to smooth over vile acts. The primitives that had lived in the land earlier? They are now called Native Americans. Today they celebrate a holiday as a treaty between the two populations of humans, when in fact they slaughtered the entire community to confiscate their land.”
“The remaining few of ours who survived?”
“They have bred,” The Hunter said. “We do have a handful of descendants on the planet.”
“One small success,” whispered The Communicator. “The descendants are healthy?”
“Yes, our DNA has merged successfully with the native species of Earth. Our ship has monitored a scant handful over the centuries.”
“Then it is time for contact.” He cut his eyes to The Hunter finally. “You will be best for the job. You have been on the crew, gathering the info on the species. I know you have been hunting for a long time. Are you ready for something different?”
The Hunter widened his eyes. “It is not something I had thought about.”
“It will open you up to be one of the first settlers on the new, safe Earth. First in line to find your own mate and have a chance at being part of a family. It is a small reward for your years of servitude to protecting others.”
Dante the Hunter bowed his head.
Tempting Tempest
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
TAKING TEMPEST Copyright November 2019 Rena Marks
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Also by Rena Marks
Genetically Altered Humans Series: Xeno Sapiens, Earth-Ground, Siren, Beast’s Beauty, Almost Human, Forbidden Touches, Coveting Ava, For Everly, Assassin’s Mate, Sextet
Alien Stolen
Born Again
Magic Gems
Wanton Sins Series: Demonic Passions, Demonic Pleasures, Demonic Power
Shared By Wolves
Enticing Fate
SuperNatural Sharing Series: Forgotten Kisses, Remembered Kisses, Whispered Kisses
Kiss Me Before I Die
Stargazer Series: The Hunter, The Enforcer, The Defender, The Protector, The Guardian, The Destroyer
Blue Barbarian Series: Abducted, Stranded, Taken, Captive, Stolen, Betrayed
The AI Series: Artificial Intelligence, Serepto’s Story
Purple People Series: Space Babies, Baby Soldiers In Space, Baby Butterfly Kisses, Titi, Baby Butterfly Kisses
Chasing Violet—written with C.L. Scholey
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