“She won’t agree to our plan,” Lök mutters.
“Maybe. But something drew us to her. Let’s listen to her concerns,” I say.
Diplomacy doesn’t come easy to alphas like us. The normal protocol is take or be taken.
By the looks of it, humans are adaptable.
We walk back to the excavation room. The door is bolted, and I can hear her sniffling.
I knock.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says, voice phlegmy and weak.
“We’ve come to listen,” I say.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing to say to monsters like you,” she says.
Lök steps forward. “Is your plan to starve to death?”
I put up my hand to cut him off.
I hear her stand. She walks toward us. I feel the vibration of her hands against the door.
“I plan to wait here until Earth destroys your excavation machine. You fucked with the wrong woman,” she says.
Both Vraik and Lök stride angrily, but I ignore my instinct to yell.
I lower my voice. “Your armies cannot disable our machinery,” I say. “But if you want to leave, we will bring you home. You can live out your last days on Earth.”
She pauses. I can hear her feet slide away from the door. “I’m speaking to Rekker?” she asks.
“Yes.”
A firm resolve carries her voice. “I don’t want to go home. I think I want to live somewhere else.”
Vraik laughs. “Somewhere else?”
“Is that so funny?” she asks.
I eye Vraik and lean my head against the door. “Forgive him,” I say. “It’s just that women are a rare commodity to us,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Most planets can only claim a certain number of individuals. But, as you may or may have heard, the Ubaran Empire uses other galaxies for extraction of precious elements and minerals. Nothing more, nothing less,” I add.
“Get on with it. You’re making my head spin,” she says.
Lök takes over. “Birthing has been regulated,” he says. “Women have been sent to government facilities.”
“Bottom line is you will not fair well on our planet,” I say.
It’s the honest truth. We need to keep her here until she is bred.
Her voice quivers. “Then we will have to find another planet.”
“The others are now being mined. Of course, there are cluster civilizations, but they are primitive and under strict law not to be touched,” I say.
Lök speaks. “Even if you found a planet that is habitable, you are a human, still young in the grand timeline of the universe. You do not understand the complexities of the other races. They will kill you.”
She is lucky we don’t kill her after this stunt she pulled.
I hear her fall to the floor, weeping.
I am brutal. We all are. But the sound hurt my ears. I feel sad for the female.
“Why did you do this to us? What did Earth ever do to you?” she cries.
I am honest. “We saw an opportunity and took it,” I say.
We’re from the mines. Does she really think we had a life of privilege? If she wants a way out of her old life, this is her best fucking bet.
“So what happens to me next? More torture? More abuse?” she asks.
“No,” I say, voice gentle. “What happens next is entirely up to you.”
Vraik interjects. “We could bring you to our home planet.”
I hear her catch her breath. “I thought you said I couldn’t travel there.”
I glance at Vraik and nudge him away. I wasn’t going to shed light on the totality of our plans, but now that she’s aware, there’s no going back.
“The Empire will accept you if you are pregnant with our child,” I say.
She gasps. “What?”
“It’s the only way,” I tell her.
“I despise your kind,” she growls.
She isn’t listening. “Do you think we are the writers of intergalactic law?” I ask.
“Everyone has a choice,” she says. “You comply with your fucked up, twisted laws. You’re just as bad as Emperor Slain.”
I step away from the door. We grew up harder than she’ll ever know. Most of our parents were slaughtered during the various uprisings. Vraik’s family was sent to the mines, never to be seen again.
We didn’t have a fucking choice. She doesn’t know a thing about our history. But I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.
“You don’t know what we’ve faced,” I say.
None of us have the upper hand anymore. We are at a standstill.
There is a long moment of silence before she speaks.
“If I agree to this, I can enter your planet? I won’t be hunted down by savages like you?” she asks.
Savages. It’s a nice touch coming from a human.
“You have my word,” I say.
The door slides open. Tears drying on her cheeks, she stands, naked and unafraid.
“I’m Emma.”
Six
Emma
Ever think you’d tell three aliens you’ll have their baby? Yeah, me neither.
Things happen. You make the decisions to keep surviving.
There is no winner in this situation. Earth was invaded, and they chose to abduct me.
Me, of all people.
I woke up in their slime. I was given the ability to breathe in inhabitable atmospheres. And now, they want me to give birth to their child and become their bride.
Owned by all three of them.
Am I sure I’m not dreaming? I’m done pinching myself.
Considering they’re planning on excavating and destroying the entire planet, I guess you could say I’m lucky. But I didn’t agree because I wanted to join their abhorrent crew.
I agreed because every time I thought of home, of Ryan and the rest of the bull crap, I just didn’t think I could do it anymore.
Those bigger and better things I keep dreaming about? They don’t exist. I was offered a way out. That’s about the only gift I’m going to receive.
Some people get lucky. Others get screwed. Guess which one I’m going to get.
The three of them stare at me like I’m a piece of meat. Their naked bodies glisten against the neon glow of their mothership. They cast large and looming shadows across the walls.
I can’t deny they look good. Well, as good as an alien can look, I guess.
Their skin is covered in protective scales that shift to different colors depending on their mood. Their eyes glow, nocturnal.
I have to reiterate this point: they are frightening beasts.
But I can’t deny their strength. They are warriors, the kind one sees on the big holographic movie screens downtown. Although they seem so sinister, they look like Gods.
I keep telling myself I’ll find another way out of this...
I edge my face into my palms, sighing the stress away. “If this is going to happen, I want to be the one calling the shots,” I say.
“You are female,” Lök growls. “You do not call anything.”
I glance over my shoulder at the window to space. Outside, the planet I grew up thinking was the only reality is dimly lit by the ray of their drilling machine.
“I opened those doors and let you have my planet back. I didn’t have to do that. I could have allowed myself to starve,” I say.
“You wouldn’t have,” Lök argues.
I tighten my resolve. “I don’t have too much to live for back home,” I tell them. “You’d be surprised what I’d be willing to do.”
Rekker shoves Lök aside. “We told her we would listen,” he says, glaring at him.
Vraik interjects. “I’m done listening.”
Handsome or not, they do not know how to speak or treat a woman. “I thought you were highly evolved creatures. You act like you are ten years old,” I say.
“Vraik, shut your mouth, and let the woman talk,” Rekker says.
Alth
ough I try not to smile, the mild level of chivalry does feel kind of good.
Once the aliens shut up, I take a deep breath and open my mouth. This situation, having to deal with brutal savages in a diplomatic way is beyond crazy, but I take the floor as if this is a new story to take home to the Daily Star.
“I haven’t agreed to anything, yet,” I warn them.
Vraik stirs.
I continue, despite the twinkling noises from his jewelry ringing over my words. “This will be my choice. Not yours.”
“Insemination is not a choice,” Lök growls, “You will be bred.”
My heart is racing again, causing me to feel faint. I wince and deal with this as best I can.
I try to buy some time.
“Not here,” I say. “Not in the dead of space.”
That won’t happen. I just need time to escape...
Outside, the cosmos is dark. Tiny pin pricks of light glimmer around us, but they seem hollow, as if life used to exist there millions of years ago but not anymore.
The candle flicker of life; a simple glow is all that remains. History is meaningless to time.
My mother once told me, “A star is but a memory engrained in the black of God’s eye.”
I hang my head. “Please,” I whisper. “I know Earth won’t be around for much longer. And I understand I don’t get too much of a say. But let me have this one choice.”
The alpha aliens share glances.
Finally, Lök kneels to my level, eyes red and fixed on mine. A clicking noise exits his throat as he breathes in the air.
“If we bring you to our home, there is a chance that we will get caught,” he says.
I think of my mother. Before the abduction, she tried to tell me she loved me.
I’ll never hear her say those words. This is my future.
So I embrace it.
Tears swell against my eyelids. It doesn’t take much thought for the salty liquid to roll over the edge. “Take me to your planet,” I demand, shaking.
What I’m asking is a lot. These are aliens. Their race is used to taking whatever they want to take.
But if I know anything at all, it’s that humans possess something special. Despite all odds, we adapt and survive.
Our survival isn’t fueled on hatred. On the contrary, humans connect and share, not only ideas, but our hearts.
We build, not destroy.
“I’m giving you everything,” I say. “My memories. My family. My body. I am asking for one small favor from you.”
Rekker pulls on the back of Lök’s neck. “Do not antagonize her,” he says.
Lök’s eyes shift. His scales ruffle. He glows green. “I suppose you have made some sacrifices to get here,” he says to me.
Another tear rolls down my cheek. It startles him.
“I have left it all behind, and I’ve barely made a fuss. I deserve a fucking award for this performance,” I say.
Rekker doesn’t look to the others for approval. He simply reaches forward, motioning for my hand.
I take it, feeling the thick fingers wrap around mine. He lifts and brings me close, whispering against my ear, “I won’t let them hurt you.”
I swallow, throat stinging as the tears keep coming. I inhale and lower my arms around him.
He lifts me, carrying me back to the room I woke in earlier.
The door slides open.
“What if she decides to run from us again?” Vraik asks.
Rekker walks in the room. “She has nowhere and no one to run toward.”
The thought runs through my mind. I shouldn’t have opened that door, but it was the only thing I could do. Maybe I could have held out for half a day. But once my thirst for water kicked in, they’d only need to wait a few more hours for me to exit the chamber.
I feel like a fool. Most of all, I feel unprotected.
Gently, he lays me down to rest, tucking me inside the sheets. “When you are ready, we will bring you to our home planet,” he says.
Before they leave, he shows me a small, mechanical device with a needle at the end. I jump back, wildly kicking it away from me.
Rekker, as respectful as he’s been, signals to the other brutes to hold me down. Massive, thick fingers curl over my biceps and ankles. They mash my wrists together, dragging me onto the bed, screaming for no one to hear.
“If you want to see our home, you need identification,” Rekker says, aiming the mechanism against my neck. “Sentinel scanners won’t let you into the planet without it.”
The frigid needle singes my skin. “Please,” I cry and gulp thick saliva. “Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”
Are they?
He doesn’t listen. A loud motor-like noise vibrates, and the needle pulses inside my neck, shooting between the muscle near my ear.
I become paralyzed, jaw hanging dumbly. Drooling, I start to spasm.
The needle pulls out, and Rekker sighs with satisfaction. Nodding, he says. “The pain will go away, but now you have identification. In addition to a citizenship chip, you will be able to read and write our language. We have given you the breath and language of our atmosphere.”
I catch my breath, astonished. Rubbing the back of my neck, I whisper, “Thanks?”
“We are on your side,” Vraik says.
Lök nods. “We will leave you to yourself. In the morning we will reach Ubara. Prepare yourself.”
I should have never agreed to their sick game.
They walk out of the room. The door shuts behind them automatically.
In the corner is a bowl of water. I dive and angle it into my mouth. Swallowing after such a long drought feels heavenly.
For a prisoner, I’ve been treated about as expected, but it is not my constraint that fill me with hopelessness. It’s the other thing...
I have been gifted an impossible task. I never thought I’d get married. I never thought I’d have a child with someone, let alone one with three aliens.
Honestly, I never thought I’d fall in love.
It was never about the ex. He was fine. Ryan was “fine.” On paper, everyone was a knockout, straight out of the park.
But it was never about them.
There were things going inside me that I never let out. I was concerned with my future. I wanted to be the best I could be, like many of my colleagues.
Did I ever stop to ask myself why?
What approval did I need and from whom?
There is guilt that lies below the surface, and it’s only now that I’m feeling it. It’s raining down on me hard.
I should blame the brutality of these savages. I should hate them with my very being.
But I don’t.
Deep down, I think I hate myself for not acting freely all these years. For not spending time with the ones I really loved.
I’ve been self-quarantining myself for years, and the sadness has only just seemed to peak.
The guilt comes from my mother. Like I said, I didn’t have the best relationship with her. But it wasn’t always that bad.
When her and my father were together, it felt like the world was stable. If mom wasn’t the person to talk to, dad was.
He might’ve been the only one to understand my mom.
My dad grew up with nothing, and his parents all but abandoned him. But he found a career. He made a family with her. He became a father that would be celebrated.
Not many people can say they had a dad like that. But I could.
He was my hero.
Life doesn’t get easier like you think it might. A few years ago, my father was having some problems. Neurological. He started to lash out with his words, harshest at my mother.
The doctors said he couldn’t control it, that a brain tumor had started metastasize. I knew what that meant. They were going to have to operate.
It was a signal that we only had a few more days left with him.
I think we all knew that, mom, me, and the grandparents. However, we remained quiet and hopeful
during the surgery. It’s easier to admit it to yourself than to the ones who raised you.
At the time, it just seemed easier to keep it all down. You know, remain strong.
I tried and I tried, and I tried to hold it all down. I was the adult now, the one who had her shit together.
Once I saw the doctor exit those doors, I knew what he was going to tell me.
I’ll never forget his words. “Your father,” he said, stuttering. “I tried… I thought we could...”
He couldn’t finish his words. He broke down, and then I broke down, too. We all fell into one another, crying.
I knew he was watching us. Somewhere, whether it was in heaven or some place nearer, he was watching us come together.
When his soul left Earth, the foundations of our family fell apart. Turned to ashes. For a year, mom wouldn’t talk to me. She told family members it was my fault for helping him find the surgeon, that there were inconsistencies in the surgical reports.
My father died because he was too sick. And through his death, I had to learn how to do the thing that hurt me the most. I let him go.
In the process, I had to let her go, too. But I couldn’t do it.
Standing, I walk toward the small window outside. Where Earth once sat is now a vast cluster of stars. The milky way has disappeared.
I’ve felt this way before. Alone.
We’re so far from home, and we’re never going back.
Seven
Lök
“We’re breaching atmosphere,” Vraik croaks.
Rekker quickly smashes a button on the console. “Concealing cloak initiated. They won’t be able to see us enter the atmosphere, but it won’t last long after we cut the power. We’ve got about five minutes.”
I hold the female close, standing near the window. As I breathe in her scent, I watch as the dense cities become clearer and clearer.
I can feel her pulse racing against my grip as she sees our industrial world of hell come to life.
Rekker steers us into a narrow valley. Slowing, he lands at an indistinguishable, clandestine garage, surrounded by trash. We are in a dump.
“We’re here,” he says. “Let’s hurry before anyone traces our hydrogen trail.”
Vraik cuts the power, and for a moment, we sit in darkness, wondering what to do with a woman on a planet full of hungry, horny alpha breeders.
Alien Bride: A Dark Alien Sci-Fi Romance Page 5