Alien Survivor: (Stranded on Galatea) An Alien SciFi Romance

by Juniper Leigh

  The second thing I recall about that day was catching the heel of my shoe in the grating and falling headlong into Danovan tel’Darian’s arms. It was like meeting a celebrity. I had been studying the Galatean genome for years, and there he was, right when I stepped onto the Leviathan. I suppose he’d been with me on the shuttle, but I’d had my eyes shut the entire time and I’d missed him. Silly Ara.

  He was more beautiful than any of the images I’d received in my newsfeed, than any of the cadavers I’d studied in my lab. Standing at an easy seven feet in height, he had skin the color of brushed nickel, but it was smooth and hairless from top to bottom. There were pronounced ridges at his brow that gave him the appearance of eyebrows, but there were none, such as we know them. No eyelashes either around those wide gunmetal-grey irises, flecked with blue and purple. And no stubble along his finely chiseled jaw. His shape was distinctly human, though he was larger than any human male I’d ever known, and he bore a bold aquiline nose and straight pearl-white teeth with perhaps slightly more pronounced canines. His ears came to a delicately sloping point, distinctly Elvish in quality, and they were each decorated with a dozen or so thickly gauged metal rings of varying sizes. I’m sure it was the scientist in me that wanted to relieve him of his high-necked black uniform to see what the rest of his body looked like. Professional curiosity, that’s all.

  But I was there to work, not to flirt. Besides which, Christian Ward was rather a fine specimen himself. Lithe and lean, the man wore a three-piece suit like he was doing it a favor. But I could tell immediately upon abandoning the Galatean and joining Christian in the bedroom that I’d already managed to annoy him. He stood in his smoking jacket, his arms hugged tight over the broad expanse of his chest, and angled a pair of sherry-colored eyes on me that bespoke his irritation. I moved past him, padding lightly over thick white carpeting, and disappeared into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, registering Christian’s reflection in the mirror behind me before I bent forward, cupping my hands to collect water and splashing it over my face. I was looking forward to the work, and to Christian’s company, but I was desperate for a good night’s sleep.

  “If you’re angry with me,” I said, patting my face dry, “can we discuss it tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

  “I just…” he began, unbuckling his belt, “I don’t understand why you have to make me look so awful, right away, after not seeing me for months on end.”

  “I didn’t make you look awful,” I countered, plucking the pins from my hair so that the red curls cascaded over my shoulders. “You did that on your own.”

  “Ara,” he continued, approaching me and gripping my arms, “I’m concerned about germs. He was on Galatea—I have no idea what sort of illnesses they have on that planet, or how susceptible I might be to them.”

  “I was also on Galatea—”

  “In a GenOriens base, waiting for the shuttle for—what? Half a day?” I turned and lifted my hair, the universal signal for would you please unzip me? Christian obliged, taking his time to unzip the black sheath dress.

  “Well, was breaking the glass really necessary?”

  Christian reached forward and pulled the dress down my arms before turning his attention to the clasp of my black satin brassiere. “There are thousands more,” he remarked, distracted by the task at hand, “never fear.”

  “I just think—” I said, turning, but he stopped me with a kiss, inhaling my words as he breathed in my air. He lifted a hand to my face and cupped my cheek, his fingertips tangling in my curls.

  “Take off your clothes,” he whispered, and I hesitated.

  “Darling, I’m really just so tired,” I muttered when we parted. He pressed a kiss to the apple of my cheek and retreated back into the bedroom, leaving me with my bra hanging off my shoulders and my dress bunched around my waist. I kicked off my heels and stemmed a sigh; I hadn’t seen Christian in nearly eighteen months. Sure, we indulged in semifrequent video call play, but it was no substitute for flesh against flesh. So I understood the depths of his wanting. Even still, my exhaustion radiated to my bones. And, if I’m totally honest, I didn’t like how he’d behaved with Danovan tel’Darian. Perhaps it was nothing, but I’d read about the brewing of interspecies bigotry and I hoped beyond hope that Christian Ward was above all that.

  I shrugged out of my bra and shimmied out of my dress, abandoning them to the cool marble floor of the bathroom and switching off the light as I moved back into the bedroom. Christian was getting dressed, and I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, hoping that he wasn’t itching for an argument.

  “Where are you going?” I asked as he held out the terry cloth robe to me.

  “I never go to sleep this early,” he remarked as I snatched the proffered robe and slipped my arms into it.

  “What time is it?” I asked, suddenly aware that I had no idea what time it was, or even what time zone we were in.

  “Twenty-two hundred,” he said. Military time. I quickly did the conversion in my head—it was ten o’clock.

  “Where will you go?” I tied the belt about my waist and shoved my hands deep into the pockets of the robe.

  “To one of the bars for a drink.”

  “I’ve barely seen you—”

  “And you can’t see me if you’re sleeping, can you?”

  “Christian…”

  “Ara.” I looked at him with what I thought was a stern expression, but it managed only to evoke a small smile from him. I usually loved his smile, the flash of perfect white teeth against his dark complexion, but this smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just feeling restless,” he explained as he returned to my side, tugging me toward him by the belt of the robe. “I’ll go have a drink and come back here, and we’ll start again tomorrow morning with breakfast on the observation deck. How does that sound?”

  I nodded and he kissed me, undoing the belt of my robe and cupping my breast in his hand. “And then we can get reacquainted with one another,” he added, his voice thick with lust.

  “I look forward to it,” I murmured, and he bent to press his lips to mine, kissing me fully, deeply, and slipping the robe off of my shoulders so it dropped heavily to the floor.

  “Sleep like that,” he said, breaking away from me and heading toward the door, leaving me at the foot of the bed clad only in a pair of black lace panties. I smiled.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I said, and he opened the bedroom door.

  And in that instant between when he opened the door and closed it behind him, I caught sight of Danovan tel’Darian, his grey eyes sparkling in the dim light of the living room, standing at his post by the door. I might have blushed to have been caught in such a state of undress, but I didn’t have time. I did, however, have the time to see one corner of his mouth hook up in a roguish grin at the sight of me.

  ***

  When I awoke the following morning, I was alone on the plush king-sized mattress. Burrowed cozily into a nest of goose down and expensive linens, I stretched my arms high over my head, my bones cracking, joints aching delightedly with the movement. Artificial sunlight glowed cheerfully from the wall-sized LCD screens that covered one entire wall in the bedroom, and it took me a moment to note that my solitude was strange, that Christian ought to have been beside me.

  I climbed out of bed and trudged blearily toward the door, peeking through for any signs of the Galatean. Seeing none, I abandoned propriety and moved into kitchen, running my hands over the sleek chrome surfaces.

  “Coffee, coffee, coffee…” A touchscreen embedded in the countertop boasted a simple menu of breakfast offerings and caffeinated confections, but I just pressed the espresso button and waited.

  Nothing happened.

  “It isn’t magic,” came a familiar voice, but thinking I was alone, I jumped out of my skin at the sound of it. “You have to fill it up first.”

  “Damn it, Cat, you scared the shit out of me,” I protested, pr
essing a hand against my sternum. I could feel my heart pumping madly as my eyes alighted on Cat, who bore a devilish little grin. Catherine Moss was my assistant. She had been scheduled to take an early shuttle this morning to join me. Judging by the suitcase in her hand, she’d arrived mere moments before I’d flounced into the kitchen wearing nothing but my skivvies.

  Cat was a promising scientist whose interests in prenatal genetic manipulations aligned with my own. But more than that, I liked her. I trusted her. And I hoped she knew how to work the coffee machine.

  “Why don’t I fix you some coffee,” she said, “while you go… put some clothes on? Really, just, any clothes will do.”

  I scoffed, brushing past her to disappear into the bedroom, whereupon I donned the previously abandoned terry cloth robe. “It isn’t my fault,” I called, gathering my mass of unruly auburn curls and tying them into a messy bun on the top of my head. “I wasn’t expecting you to just show up here.”

  Rounding the corner back into the kitchen, I crossed my arms in front of me as Cat added coffee grounds to the machine. She was a lovely little thing, really, with her blond hair cropped short and a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses perched on a pert little nose. She was short and lean and apparently quite good with coffeemakers, for moments later the space filled with the sweet smell of a fresh brew.

  “You would think that on a ship of this size, orbiting a planet that is fourteen hundred light years away from its planet of origin, it would have something as simple as voice command,” I remarked as Cat poured me a cup of fresh espresso.

  “You forget that this ship was built fifty years ago,” she remarked as I sipped from my cup and hummed my appreciation. “The technology is practically ancient compared to what’s widely available back home.”

  “How was your flight on the shuttle?” I asked, moving around to sit at one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

  “Turbulent,” she remarked coolly, pouring herself a cup as well. “I’m glad it’s over.”

  “I’ll look forward to spending more time planetside in the next few months, though,” I said, finishing off the espresso. Cat shoved her cup toward me, and I took it gratefully, sipping from it while she refilled the one I’d emptied. Bless her.

  “As will I,” she agreed. “In fact, I’m looking forward to getting all of this bureaucratic crap out of the way, so we can get to the fun sciency bits.”

  “Speaking of which,” I said, “have you reviewed my presentation?”

  “I have.” Cat swept her fingers through her hair as she darted out of the kitchen to fetch something from her bag, returning with her tablet in hand. “Here,” she said. “I’ve made a few notes. Nothing major, just a few word changes here and there.”

  “Thank you,” I said and began scrolling through the text, accepting changes as I saw them come up. The espresso was beginning to work its magic, and I felt alert, excited for the gala and my presentation. I was lost in reviewing Cat’s notes when I heard the touch pad beep and the front door whoosh open.

  “Hello, Mr. Ward,” Cat said, and I looked up to smile at Christian and the Galatean as they entered.

  “Cat,” Christian said by way of acknowledgment. He walked over to me and plucked the tablet from my hand.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning,” came my easy reply. Then I peered past him to the Galatean, who had resumed his post by the door. “And a good morning to you, Danovan tel’Darian.”

  “Dr. Cross.”

  With all of our very stiff pleasantries out of the way, Christian took my hand and dragged me toward the bedroom. “I have had something delivered for you,” he said.

  I cast a glance over my shoulder to Cat, who was just grinning that same little lopsided grin; she must have been in on it. Danovan was looking at us, too, following our movements with his shrewd grey eyes until we disappeared into the bedroom and Christian closed the door behind us.

  He went over to the closet and pulled out a garment bag. “I picked it out just for you,” he said and unzipped the front of it. Inside was a beautiful royal-blue gown, floor-length and covered in fine sequins that glittered in the light.

  “Oh, Christian,” I said, taking the hanger from him and admiring the dress. It had a plunging neckline and a fishtail shape, and it may have been the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. But I was a scientist, not a beauty queen. “It’s lovely, really…”

  “But…?”

  “But shouldn’t I wear something more… conservative to the gala? I’m presenting on prenatal genetics and interspecies breeding, not accepting an award for best supporting actress.”

  There was a subtle shift in the air around us, and though Christian was still smiling, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, hugging the gown to me. “Of course. It’s beautiful. I would be happy to wear it to the gala.”

  “No, it’s fine. You’re probably right. You’re a scientist, not a prom queen. Something standard—the black sheath dress you came here in, I’m sure that would be more appropriate.”

  “Christian—”

  “No, really. You’re right. It’s just the most important moment of your career—why should you have a new gown?”

  “I’m sorry—I think I just got self-conscious. I don’t really wear things as beautiful as this.” I brushed past him and hung the dress up in the closet, the only thing that glittered amongst his finely tailored suits. “I’m used to lab coats.”

  “I need the woman on my arm to wear more than just lab coats, Araceli,” Christian gently intoned as he slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He looked very fine, as he always did, in trousers and a tweed vest, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was the uniform for every fabulously wealthy man who wanted to say to the proletariat, See? I’m just like you.

  “Of course I’ll wear it,” I conceded and moved toward him to stand on tiptoe and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He cracked a grin and bounced his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m glad you like it. Now,” he said, undoing the belt of my robe, “let me see you try it on.”

  And the effect was stunning, if I did say so myself. Cat helped me to gather my curls into a neat twist, securing them with diamond-studded pins that made my hair glimmer right along with my gown. And Cat herself donned a smartly cut suit in slate grey, with sharp lapels and a single button that fastened just beneath her breasts. We were looking very elegant when we joined Christian—who seemed as at ease in a tuxedo as most people were in sweatpants and a ratty tee shirt—and Danovan tel’Darian. Danovan wasn’t dressed up for the occasion, but still, he drew my eye. There was something naturally sleek about him, with his skin like a new coin.

  “No tux for you?” I asked, gripping my clutch in my clammy, nervous fingers. In it was a tube of lip gloss, a bottle of antianxiety meds (just in case), and my tablet with my speech written thereon.

  “We tried to get one for him, actually,” Christian interjected before Danovan had had the opportunity to speak for himself. “But I didn’t think to have one custom-made, and of course—”

  “Everything off the rack would have been too small,” I said with a nod of my head.

  “Precisely.”

  “More’s the pity.” I smiled warmly over to Danovan, who had yet to speak a word, but he simply turned away from me and faced vaguely forward, his hands clasped in front of him.

  “Are we ready to go, then?” Cat asked, sliding her earpiece into her ear. “We’re about to miss the exit for ‘fashionably late’.”

  Christian offered me his arm, and I was grateful for something steady to hold on to. I felt a quiver of something like excitement, but also like dread, in the pit of my stomach, and I gave a sharp nod to indicate that, yes, we should be on our way. Danovan pressed the button that sent the front door whooshing open, and Christian escorted me out, with Cat and tel’Darian beh
ind us.

  I didn’t exactly mind public speaking, but it certainly wasn’t my forte. What’s more, this particular speech was to be broadcast not only shipwide, but also to Galatea and across Earth as well. Somehow I, one lowly little geneticist, had become the face of interspecies relations. It was a position I relished, from behind the safe and familiar confines of my laboratory, where I could study the intricacies of a foreign genome in the privacy of my own sterilized environment. But this… this was something else altogether.

  When we arrived on the observation deck, the sight of it nearly took my breath away. We stepped out of the elevator and into a room with a glass-domed ceiling that served as the only barrier between us and the endless expanse of stars all around us. A crystal chandelier hung in the center, suspended midair, and cast dancing prisms of light across the many linen-covered tabletops that dotted the space. At one end of the room was a stage, at the back of which was a sizable LCD screen that bore the GenOriens logo in a tranquil shade of blue that matched the flowers of the centerpieces. The room was crowded with people who were eager to shake Christian’s hand, and shake their hands he did. He also introduced me to every last one of them, though it beats me what any of their names were. All I could think about was the stage, and the fact that I was going to have to stand on it. Not just stand on it—talk.

  Chapter 3:

  Danovan tel’Darian

  She was a vision in that gown, at least until we stepped off the elevator. Then she got stiff and her eyes were sort of bugged out; fear coursed through her and made her muscles tense, and I could almost smell her terror.

  I liked her little assistant, though, the small, strange woman in a pantsuit. I liked how she followed Dr. Cross around, ready to catch her if she were to pass out from the stress of it all.