by Susan Hayes
If the Gods were feeling generous, then the rest of the mission would go smoothly, and nothing else would go wrong. Something told him that wasn’t going to be the case.
“Computer. Prepare two micro-drones for surveillance on the planet’s surface. Urban setting. Maximum stealth mode.”
“Confirmed. Destination?”
“Two different destinations. Target the home addresses on file for the human females matched to Vadir Rahal and Joran Pyros. Monitor and record any activity at both locations.”
There was an unusually long pause before the ships AI spoke again. “Please reconfirm destinations. Data is in conflict with command given.”
“Identify error.”
“Home addresses on file differ, but coordinates do not.”
“Details, computer. Give me the damned details.”
“There is a minor variation between the two addresses, but both residences exist in the same structure.”
He ran a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to try and punch a hole in the hull. “They live together? You’re telling me that out of an entire city, the database managed to match two females who know each other?”
“I cannot confirm their social bonds based on current data, but statistically it seems likely the two females are acquainted, Commander.”
“Display the two addresses side by side on wall monitor one, then display all data collected on the females in that building on wall monitor two.”
It didn’t take long for him to see the problem. The address was numeric, but the last character was a letter, instead: 1665-A and 1665-C.
The Spark. The Scorching. And now the revelation that Joran and Vadir’s mates were already acquainted. The Gods were in fine form today.
“I don’t get paid enough for this. I swear after this mission is over I going to seriously consider working for Vadir,” he muttered as he turned to look over the data now displayed on the second monitor.
“Computer, why are there three names being displayed? I asked you to show me the information on Vadir and Joran’s matches.”
“The Commander is incorrect. You asked me to display information on all the residents of that building.”
A headache blossomed behind his eyes, adding to his misery. “Where did you get the information on the third female?”
“The Star-Crossed database included her information. Gwen Hudson was rejected as a potential match, but her information is still on file.”
There were three of them. And the third one knew all about the Star-Crossed dating service. She would have to be dealt with before the others were transported to Pyros.
“Show me her file. Pictures. Data, all of it.”
Information filled the monitor, but Kash didn’t see it. All his attention was on the image the computer had placed at the top of the screen. A goddess stared back at him. Why was this beautiful, dark-skinned, lushly curved female dropped from the program?
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until the computer responded to his question. “The female was determined to be past the prime breeding age for humans.”
She was too old? He stared at her picture, unable to see any sign of infirmity or age. Her jet-black hair fell in tight spirals around her smiling face, and her skin was a warm, deep shade of brown that he’d never seen before. She was breathtaking. If she was an example of the females that were being rejected from the matching program, then the ones responsible were doing a great disservice to the males of his world.
“Send the drones to target location. Have one patrol the perimeter and have the second one enter the building and record all activity. If the inhabitant shows signs of becoming concerned or agitated, alert me immediately.” He wasn’t holding out much hope that the beauty on the planet below had no connection to the females already claimed by their Pyrosian mates, but he wouldn’t take action until he had to. If the three were friends, it wouldn’t be long before Gwen Hudson started to worry. When that happened, he’d have to do something, likely something that went against his orders.
Hopefully, by then, he’d have some idea what that would be because nothing in their mission plan covered this contingency. He was going to have to make things up as he went along.
He drummed his fingers against his thigh as he stared at Gwen’s image on the monitor.
So much for simple.
2
His second officer messaged him after what felt like only seconds of sleep. The habits of a lifetime of military service had him on his feet before he was even fully awake, and he answered the call on the wall monitor before it chimed a second time.
“Report.”
“The micro-drones are reporting activity at the target site. I checked, your subject is awake and appears worried. She’s pacing and appears to have visited what we believe are the living quarters of the two females with Vadir and Prince Joran.”
It was the middle of the night for this part of the world. There was no other reason that Gwen would be awake at this hour. She must have realized her friends had not returned home yet. He was going to have to go down there and handle the situation…somehow. Things had just gotten dire.
“Prep shuttle two, and continue monitoring subject.” He was about to end the call when another thought struck him. “And put a damper on her communication devices until I get there. If she contacts the authorities and tells them about the dating site, this mission is going take a terminal dive straight into the nearest star.”
Kash signed off and went to pull a fresh uniform out of his cubby, then stopped. He couldn’t show up at Gwen’s door dressed like that. The black and orange uniform of a Pyrosian military officer was designed to stand out, and that was the last thing he wanted to do while covertly visiting a planet they weren’t supposed to be anywhere near.
“Computer, scan your database and have an Earth-style outfit manufactured to my measurements. Something casual and discreet. And make it quick. I’ll pick it up from Supply on my way to the shuttle.”
“Confirmed.”
They had added a small number of templates for clothing and basic devices to their manufacturing stations in order to equip Joran, his guardsmen, and Vadir with everything they needed for their missions to Earth. It wouldn’t make what he was about to do much easier, but he’d take any advantage he could get. If he didn’t deal with the third female, then the mission was at risk. Of course, going down to the damned planet at all was a risk, too. He had never defied orders before and he didn’t like doing it now, but he had no other choice.
He geared up quickly and headed to Supply to gather the rest of what he’d need. He donned the clothing, strapped a teleportation device to his wrist, and slipped his communicator into the pocket of his pants. The material was heavier than he was used to and the fit was alarmingly snug. How in the hell did human males fight in such constricting clothing?
There was one other accommodation he had to make. Instead of wearing his blaster on his hip, he slipped into a more discreet shoulder holster and covered it with a black jacket of simulated tanned animal hide.
The officer on duty checked her notes, gave him a quick once-over, and nodded in approval. “You look quite human, sir. No one should notice you at all.”
He chuckled and offered the female a rare smile. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that or not.”
Her golden eyes widened. “No insult intended, sir. I just… it’s amazing how similar these aliens are to us. I’ve been reading the files, and well, I’ve got unmated brothers back home. This mission might mean they have a chance to find their mates someday. I hope whatever it is you need to fix down there, it works out alright. For all of us.”
She drew herself to attention and brought her right arm across her chest in a sharp salute. “Good luck, sir.”
He saluted her back, turned, and headed for the shuttle hangers with her final words resonating in his ears. He was going to need more than luck to make this work. He needed the goodwill of the Gods themselves. Not th
at he could count on that, considering their sense of whimsy was the reason for all this chaos.
Gwen couldn’t sleep.
It was after one in the morning, and they still weren’t home. Not so much as a text message from either of them. She’d tried calling, but all she got was a “the number you are trying to reach is temporarily out of service,” message. Her emails and texts had gone unanswered, and there wasn’t a single post on either of their social media. She’d gone full stalker-mode and hadn’t been able to find a trace of either of them.
She left her suite and climbed the stairs to Lisa’s place first. She knocked on the door and called out several times, just in case she’d missed her friend’s return home.
Satisfied that Lisa wasn’t there, she hiked back down to the main level, then made her way downstairs to the basement, where Maggie lived. No answer there, either. Not that she’d expected there to be, but she wanted to be sure before she took this to the next level. It was time to call the police. There probably wasn’t much they could do, but she’d spent enough time in foster care to know that when someone was missing, the sooner the search started, the better.
Back in her suite, she decided there was one more thing she should do before calling the cops: call the hospitals. She sat down at her computer and searched for the phone numbers she needed, jotting them down on the back of a takeout menu.
Her hands were shaking as she picked up her phone to call the first number. Which would be worse, finding out Lisa or Maggie was there, hurt…or confirming that they were out there somewhere, still missing?
She was so distracted by her worries that it took her a few seconds to notice that the call wasn’t going through. Weird. The damned thing had worked twenty minutes ago when she’d tried to contact her friends for the hundredth time.
The battery showed more than eighty percent power, so what was the—no cellular service? She held the phone under her desk lamp so she could see the readout better. No service. How was that possible? For what she paid every month, she should get service at the bottom of a well in the middle of Antarctica.
Irritated and exhausted, she stood and started wandering around her suite, hoping for at least a single bar of connection. Nothing. She felt a stab of panic. What if Maggie or Lisa was trying to get a hold of her right now? The landline! She grabbed the list of numbers and left her suite again.
The others had laughed at her, but she had insisted that they keep a landline in the house for emergencies. This definitely counted as an emergency. The black phone sat out in the hall, close to the front door where any of them could use it. It was covered in thin layer of dust, which was a testament to how long it had been since it had been used.
She lifted the receiver and started dialling in the first number, then froze as she heard a footstep outside the front door. Were they finally home? Who was it? She waited in silence, hoping for the sound of a key in the lock, but instead, there was a sharp triple-rap on the door.
Disappointment and concern welled up inside her. If it wasn’t Maggie or Lisa out there, who was it and what did they want this late at night? Her grandmother had been fond of say that only bad news was delivered after midnight. She set the phone back down in its cradle. “Who's there?”
“Ms. Hudson? I have information on the whereabouts of your friends, Maggie O’Hara and Lisa Woods.”
A harbinger of doom’s voice should not sound that sexy. She felt an immediate stab of guilt for even thinking that. What was wrong with her? “Are they alright? Where are they? Why haven’t they called?” she blurted out the questions in a breathless torrent before she even had the door unlocked.
“They’re safe and unhurt.”
“Oh thank the stars—.“ She got her first look at the man standing at her door and words failed her.
He was huge. Not merely tall, but broad and muscular, too. He looked like he was built to do violence, and the scar that slashed across his right cheek only added to that impression. Something about him spoke of military training, too. The way he held himself, maybe, or the fact that his dark hair and beard were immaculately trimmed.
“May I come in?” His voice was as hard and gruff as the rest of him.
“You’re not from the police department.” She held her ground, her hand still gripping the doorknob. This was a stranger, with no uniform or badge to identify him.
“No. I’m not. But I do know where your friends are. If you allow me to come inside, I can explain.”
Her need to know what had happened waged a brief battle with her sense of self-preservation and emerged victorious. “Come in. It’s too chilly to stand on the doorstep and talk, anyway.”
He gave her a heated look that made her heart do a slow somersault in her chest. “You are not dressed to be outside.”
That’s when she finally remembered what she was wearing. Or more precisely, what she wasn’t. All she had on was an oversized t-shirt that barely came to mid-thigh. Worse, it had sparkly pink unicorn eating a cupcake emblazoned across the front of it.
She uttered a muffled squawk of embarrassment and folded her arms across her chest, hiding part of the cartoon figure. “You’re right. Follow me, I’ll get dressed, and you can tell me what the hell is going on.”
She retreated inside, and he came after her, his long strides eating up the distance between them. She moved faster, her bare feet hitting the floor at a borderline jog. The sooner she could grab something to cover herself up, the sooner she’d have answers.
The human female was scared of him. She wasn’t the first one to react that way, but this time, it bothered Kash. The lovely, curvy little female was the first human he’d ever seen face to face, and part of him had foolishly hoped for a different response.
Kash was used to others reacting to him with unease and even fear. Even before the scars, many had found him intimidating. Since he’d been injured, though, it had gotten worse. His scars were a reminder to the other Pyrosians that they were no longer the strongest force in the known worlds.
As their population shrank with each generation, the other races and factions had slowly taken notice. Raiders and pirates grew bolder. Shipping lanes that had been safe for hundreds of planetary orbits were attacked more frequently, and in the past few years, even the Pyrosian fleet itself had been targeted. He’d been injured in one such attack.
He followed her into the structure, trying hard not to stare at the way Gwen’s sparse covering hugged the curve of her hips and ass as she walked. He would not allow himself to be distracted by her beauty. She was human, and therefore forbidden to him. She was a problem that had to be dealt. Nothing more.
“What’s your name? Where are my friends? Are they really alright?”
He blinked at her steady stream of questions, not sure where to begin answering them.
When he didn’t say anything, she tossed a worried look over her shoulder. “Please, tell me again that they’re okay.”
That, he could do. “You have my word that your friends are unharmed. They’re with two males I know well, and they would never allow anything to happen to someone in their care.”
“Then why aren’t they answering their phones? I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”
“Your friends’ electronics are likely not in service.” It was part of the plan, to make it easier for Joran and Vadir’s ships to remain undetected, and ensure that their matches could not make contact with anyone and reveal the presence of aliens on this planet.
He followed her down the hall and through a doorway and was immediately struck by a sense of comfort and warmth. Mismatched furniture filled the main room, but it was covered by handcrafted blankets and quilts in bright colours. Nothing about it resembled home, but that’s what it felt like; familiar and welcoming.
“How did you know that I was getting an out of service message when I tried to contact them?” Gwen pointed to another room, one filled with large appliances and the lingering scent of something delicious. “Please wait in the kitc
hen. Help yourself to the cookies or the brownies. They’re in containers on the table. I won’t be long.”
“I know your friends’ location.” He walked into the kitchen and inhaled deeply. His stomach rumbled in response, reminding him that his last meal had been some time ago.
He wandered over to the table and looked over the array of tins and plastic containers arranged neatly across it. He opened a canister made of dented metal, and the incredible aroma grew stronger. Inside were stacks of baked goods, and he lifted one out to sniff at it. It reminded him of a confection his mother used to make when he was a youngling. He took a cautious bite and groaned in surprised delight as the flavour filled his mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled.
He opened more of the containers and found a large number of the tasty disks as well as squares of something dark and rich looking. He was relatively certain the squares were the brownies she’d offered him, which meant the disks were the cookies. His language training hadn’t been as extensive as Joran and Vadir’s, but so far, it seemed sufficient.
He had sampled a brownie and was eating another cookie by the time Gwen reappeared. She had covered her bare skin in loose-fitting clothing that hid her body.
He didn’t like it.
“Now that I’m properly dressed, please tell me where my friends are. When are they coming back? What’s happened to them?”
“Which question would you like me to answer first?”
She pursed her lips, and her gaze fell to the floor. “Sorry. I babble when I’m upset. I’d like to know your name, and then I want to know what happened to my friends.”
“My name is Kash.” He only gave her his first name. Mentioning his rank would cause more questions. “Your friends are with the males they were matched with on the Star-Crossed Dating service. The last I spoke with Joran and Vadir, things were getting…” he scratched at his scar as he struggled with his English, looking for a tactful way to tell Gwen what was happening.