Arianna's Alien

by Reagan Woods

  “Of course, General.” Jorkan gave a slight bow and exited the suite without looking Arianna’s way again.

  The General’s eyes narrowed on her face assessing, measuring. At least he wasn’t looking down his nose at her like Jorkan had, although, he was certainly looking down at her. She had to tilt her head back to keep him in her sights as he moved closer, his proximity making her uncomfortable.

  “When we’re alone, I will expect you to strip,” his steady advance took him past her, into the bathing room. She exhaled slowly, realizing she’d been holding her breath. That steady copper stare combined with his intimidating size made him one frightening alien.

  She could hear him splashing water and she assumed he prepared to sleep.

  What had he said? She’d been too busy holding her ground to pay close attention. Perhaps she’d misheard him? He couldn’t be serious. Could he?

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Darvan expected prompt compliance from Arianna, not stunned silence. Perhaps Jorkan had over-stated her abilities.

  Shirtless, he exited the bathing room and snapped his fingers in front of her face. She stood frozen in the spot he’d left her in moments before.

  “Did you hear me?” He leaned down to look into her slack, passive face.

  She was wearing the short tunic she’d been presented in. Her creamy skin glowed against the low V of the neckline. Her long golden-streaked hair tumbled in shining waves down her back almost to the hem-line of her garment.

  “Yes,” she finally answered quietly, little jaw working as though she wanted to say more, eyes not meeting his. Still, she made no move to comply with his demand.

  Darvan straightened and stepped closer, deliberately crowding into her space. The light perfume of her hair drifted to his nostrils, striking him as extremely pleasant. Her head remained bent. Tilting her delicate face up with a finger under her pointed little chin, he examined her more closely.

  Finally, a spark of life lit in her green eyes. She returned his look with a challenging stare of her own. He could see the pulse fluttering wildly in her neck.

  Her defiant vulnerability pulled at him in ways he didn’t care to examine too deeply. Dr. Balcar had some very interesting observations about the female Earthers. He intended to use these new facts to his advantage. Pulling on the ruthless determination that had served him so well in life, he battled down the uncharacteristic urge to soothe her.

  “My commands are not optional, Arianna,” he fixed her with the unblinking stare that weakened the knees of even his most hardened warriors. “When I give you a command, you are to obey. Immediately. Now, strip.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The alien sound of her name on his lips was jarring. It drove home exactly how precarious her situation really was. She would have found the velvety baritone of his voice seductive if he were from Earth. Here, he was the conqueror and she the conquest. She mustn’t forget that.

  You can’t beard a lion in its own den, girl. She heard her mother’s nearly forgotten voice in her head.

  Keeping her eyes locked on his predatory copper stare, Arianna slowly peeled the little dress up her body and over her head. She forced her white-knuckled fists to her sides against the instinct that shrieked for her to cover her nudity.

  After so many hours being reconditioned, she was better able to read the alien body language and expressions. The striped effect of his skin over his sharp cheek bones became more pronounced, as if he were flushing. The metallic sheen of his eyes appeared to glitter from beneath eyelids that had drooped to half-mast. She didn’t have a lot of experience with men but she knew lust when she saw it. The General was definitely effected by her. This was not good.

  Peter had been her first and only lover. With him, lovemaking had been gentle and sweet if not earth-shattering. They’d had to work to find privacy and it had made their time together special. She knew she’d been lucky not to have to trade her body for food or medicine like most women on Earth had. It looked as though her streak of good fortune in that regard would soon be broken.

  Fighting back helpless tears of exhausted defeat, she realized that nothing and no one was going to help her out of this. She simply didn’t have the ability to protect herself from him. The sheer size of his alien body was terrifying. She would never be able to weather a brutal rape at his hands. And, if she didn’t cooperate, that’s exactly what it would be.

  When he held out his palms, Arianna grudgingly gave him her wrists. What real choice did she have? He turned toward his sleeping room and tugged her determinedly behind him. Her mind spinning in desperate circles, she battled against the panic threatening to undo her. She knew he would not be dissuaded from his course of action. Trying to breathe deeply and slow her racing heart, she fought her instinct to resist him. If she could just endure, she might survive the night relatively intact.

  The far wall of the sleeping room was dominated by a huge sleeping platform. That was all she had time to absorb before he placed a large hand under her shoulders and swept her legs out with the other muscled arm. He held her against his chest, cradled like a child. She was petrified stiff in his grasp. Panic bloomed in her chest, strangling the breath from her lungs.

  Eyes sealed tightly shut, she held perfectly still when the General laid her carefully on her back. When nothing happened for a few moments, she opened her eyes to find herself on a small pallet on the floor next to his sleeping platform. Giving her a measured glance, he plucked a round pillow from his sleeping platform and placed it gently under her head. Producing a soft blanket, he tucked it around her tightly.

  Tears stinging her eyes, she didn’t even attempt to hide her relief. A look of what might have been understanding crossed his face and he combed and petted her hair back from her face for a few moments. Then he ruined the calming effect by clipping the D-ring on her collar to a chain that ran under his platform.

  “Sleep now,” he stroked her hair one last time before standing.

  She obediently shut her eyes and turned her face into the pillow that carried his spicy scent. Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was how oddly comforting she found his musky, faintly peppery smell.

  Chapter Eight

  Arianna stopped digging just long enough to wipe the perspiration out of her burning eyes. Thanks to the late thaw, they’d be lucky to get these irrigation trenches dug before it was time to plant the early crops. Hacking at the stubborn earth from sun-up to sun-down during these short days was the only way they could hope to be ready in time to plant. She attacked the frozen ground with renewed vigor pretending it was Eduardo Cruz’s face.

  That’s for forcing my dad to leave me! She hacked her hoe into the muddy, half-frozen ground.

  This is for stealing my mother! Slam. Slam. Slam.

  There was the distinct possibility that she had unresolved anger issues.

  A small band of newcomers had joined their numbers late last week. While it was good to have the extra hands, the burden on their meagre food supply was heavy. Calculating how many extra acres they’d have to prepare, plant and tend fell within her purview as head of the food supply committee. Her extensive education and background made her the ideal candidate for much of the planning needs of the small community of survivors.

  That education didn’t do me much good otherwise, did it? Crack. The stubborn hunk of earth finally gave.

  One little trench down, a zillion to go.

  “I need to go in and open up the clinic. Mrs. Kopecki has an upper respiratory infection. We’re low on antibiotics,” Pryia apologetically deposited her shovel and hoe at Arianna’s feet.

  They shared a concerned look. They couldn’t handle an outbreak. Their tiny grave yard had garnered three more markers over the hard winter.

  “Thanks for taking the time to come out and help us,” Arianna said with a smile.

  “I’ll come out again tomorrow morning,” Pryia promised with a smile. “Don’t look now but your admirer is headed this way. He looks very determin
ed today. And you look…wow, you’re very muddy.”

  Ohmigodohmigodohmigod. Breathe.

  “He’s just eager to prove he can be useful. You know the rules,” Arianna brushed her friend’s comment aside. Peter was definitely hot. And definitely full of himself. Not many men intimidated her but he’d managed to have her tongue tied and drooling within moments of arriving last week.

  She knew she was acting like a child, avoiding him and quickly finding a reason to excuse herself whenever he tried to talk to her. She’d never been unsure of herself like this. He made her feel clumsy. She didn’t like it.

  Except she kinda did.

  “He’s a smart, handsome man,” Pryia whispered. “Haven’t you learned that life is short? Grab a little happiness while you can.” Then louder, “Ok, Arianna. See you later!” She scurried off.

  “She’s not subtle.” A deep voice came from directly behind Arianna.

  Hoping he’d mistake her fiery blush for a flush of exertion, she turned to face him.

  “If you’ve come to help, we could sure use it,” she quickly took control of the conversation. Maybe that would hurry him along. There simply wasn’t enough air when he was around.

  “I’m happy to lend a hand. I’ve been asked to join the supply team since I’ve spent time in this part of the world before, but they didn’t need my particular skill-set this afternoon,” he raised a callused brown hand and gently brushed the curl that had escaped her braid aside.

  Her heart beat so hard in her ears she was sure he could hear it.

  “Well, ok. Good. Ummm….You should start,” she wheeled around, intending to point out the furthest plot from her own that she could find.

  “Right here,” he interrupted, stepping into her space. He gently cupped her shoulders and forced her to face him. He gave her plenty of time to back away before kissing her softly. But she didn’t want to resist him, not really.

  “Arianna…” he breathed her name. “I’m still waiting for you.”

  Arianna bolted upright in the pitch darkness. Something was moving near her. Why couldn’t she see? Had her goggles fallen off again?

  It came flooding back to her in a rush. She was chained and collared in the CORANOS General’s sleeping room.

  “Lights twenty percent,” the General’s deep voice growled directly in her ear.

  “You’re awake,” he said when he could see her. “Your dreams were not peaceful.”

  She turned to face him slowly. He lay on his side surveying her intently like a big cat on the branch of some jungle tree. Though he appeared lazy and disheveled from sleep, she knew better than to underestimate him. Like a big cat, he could pounce at any moment.

  “I’m sorry if I disturbed your sleep,” she lied baldly.

  “Your Corian accent needs work but you’re able to speak much more coherently, I see.”

  No, you hear. But whatever.

  “You will wake me each cycle with a pleasant greeting and have a moment to use the facilities. While I am readying for command, you will see to preparing my first meal. I prefer panna in the mornings. You recall how to prepare it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” strangely enough she did.

  “Good girl,” he gave her a relaxed smile.

  She caught just a hint of a dimple in his strong jaw and it made her feel…strange. The intimacy of sharing sleeping space with him flustered her now that she wasn’t so exhausted.

  She hurriedly straightened her pallet, folding the blanket precisely and rolling up the little mat. It felt very important, necessary even, that she complete all of these tasks as unobtrusively as possible. To her chagrin, the chain at her neck scraped and jangled with every move she made. Pulling her hair away from the chain at her collar so he could free her, she had a moment of confusion.

  Why did I just do all that?

  “The reconditioner began instilling my specific preferences for your comportment in your second session yesterday. You still have a long way to go but you’re much further along than I expected. Especially after your near-comatose state when I arrived,” he murmured.

  He cleared his throat and settled back against the pillows, cocking a winged black brow at her.

  Catching on, Arianna let loose her hair and reached forward for his hand.

  “General, I hope you had a pleasant sleep cycle. It’s time to wake.”

  “That will do for today. Present your collar.”

  “Will –,” she caught herself and cast her eyes downward. That reconditioner really was messing with her mind. She’d never been afraid to ask a reasonable question in her life.

  “Will, what?” he asked patiently.

  “Will you always treat me like this?” she gestured to the chain at her neck.

  “It’s not unheard of.”

  She kept her eyes downcast. How she could feel so compelled to please him and still hate everything he stood for was a conundrum. She determined to shrug it off and get through this one day at a time. Lure them into complacency and then she’d escape. As soon as she figured out how.

  “But it’s not my preference,” he said after a few moments.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Darvan ate his first meal in silence, perusing the missives he’d received during his sleep cycle. A still-nude Arianna tidied the sleeping and bathing rooms and put his discarded clothing from the previous cycle in the laundry cube. Then she paused, looking confused.

  He found it amusing that he could see exactly how far along in the reconditioning process she was. She looked completely baffled whenever she came to the end of a series of subliminally implanted conditional cues.

  Her skin was paler than his but she wasn’t nearly as light-skinned as a Doranos. He enjoyed the way the light in the room seemed to caress her skin rather than glare off of it. If he could, he would watch her lithe form all day. But that was not possible, he needed to dress her and get on with his day.

  “Arianna, come,” he commanded, pointing to a spot next to his feet.

  He bit back a chuckle when she stomped her little feet across the floor like a put-out youth.

  “Arms up,” he commanded. He found himself enjoying the flush that worked its way up her bare chest and into her face while he waited for her to comply. The rosy color set off the sparkle of her fascinating eyes and seemed to make the tumble of her hair that much more alluring. Corian females were mostly brunette, Doranos females were nearly without pigment…he’d never seen a female with such golden locks.

  When she finally raised her arms, he took a leisurely moment to admire her pert little breasts and smooth stomach before moving on to the wispy curls at the juncture of her thighs. It was a pity to cover all that loveliness up. He’d only ever been with Doranos women sexually as most Corian women weren’t promiscuous. Now he found himself wondering what Earthers, what she - with her shining hair and soft skin, would think of sharing her body…with him.

  Dr. Balcar’s early morning missive had included an eyes-only report regarding the Earthers that he was generating at the behest of the High Council. He’d asked Darvan’s opinion on delaying the submission of said report until he could “more thoroughly validate” his findings, specifically, that initial DNA scans indicated that the Earthers were human – like the people of the CGA. Darvan was inclined to agree to the proposal. Giving the High Council this kind of news and then having to retract would ruin Balcar’s credibility…but if it were true.

  “You’re staring,” she said, her skin still flushed a pale pink.

  Coming back to himself abruptly, he asked the question that had been on his mind all night, “Who is Peter?”

  The color drained from her face.

  “Where did you hear that name?”

  She brought her arms down to hug them around her breasts in a move he recognized as both defensive and comforting. Her low voice held a wealth of pain. He regretted being the cause. However inadvertently.

  “You spoke to Peter in your sleep. Who is this Peter?” An unfamiliar emotion made h
is words harsher than he’d intended.

  “He’s my….”she blinked moisture from her eyes rapidly.

  “Your?” he prompted.

  “Peter is dead.”

  “Who was Peter?”

  “He’s…he was my friend. My partner. My lover. For a little while,” she said softly. “Can we please not talk about him?”

  He held out her dress and gestured for her to raise her arms overhead again.

  “I can dress myself,” she resisted.

  “It’s my prerogative,” he pulled the material over her body, lingering to smooth his hands in comforting strokes up and down her rigid spine.

  “I didn’t mean to cause pain with my questions.”

  “Of course,” her delicate face was blank of any expression.

  The chime sounded Jorkan’s arrival. Though she was just a captive, Darvan found himself reluctant to leave her to the Doranos Attaché’s less than tender mercies. Nonetheless, if he were to make efficient use of Jorkan’s preoccupation with Arianna, he needed to get a move on.

  Chapter Nine

  One Month Later

  “You’re very quiet this cycle, Arianna,” Jorkan observed when at last he released her from her final assimilator session for the day.

  With every day that passed, Arianna felt like she lost a little more of herself. Her mind didn’t churn with the constant internal chatter she’d always generated. She was continually looking for things to clean and ways to make the General comfortable and happy. It had to be the result of their reconditioning and she didn’t like it.

  At night, her mind rebelled against the imposed bands being wrapped around it. She dreamed of her life in the encampment with Peter and her friends. In the odd way that dreams sometimes do, the here and now would mix with the past and Peter would urge her to escape, to remember what he’d said. Sometimes, scenes of her life before the war, with her family would blend into a confusing jumble. Her mother, carefree and loving as she’d been before life became chaotic, would echo Peter’s instructions for Arianna to make her way back to Earth, to Texas.