Alien Rogue's Captive

by Viki Storm

And she’s hurt.

  “Anax,” she chokes. There’s another collar around her neck. After all we went through, she’s got another one of those infernal things locked against her delicate skin.

  “Brooke,” I say, surprised at how calm my voice sounds. Internally, I feel like a swarm of insectoids is flying around inside my head, making it hard to focus—and if there’s ever a time in my life I need to focus, it’s now.

  Everything depends on it. And I’m not just talking about my mate. The future of the Kenorian race, the future of the poor planet Hilf’s going to attack with his doomsday weapon—it all depends on me.

  “Don’t do it,” she mutters. One of her eyes is swollen shut. The Blackness is filling my soul. Every ounce of joy I’ve had in the last few days is replaced by a void of hate. Hilf doesn’t get to live anymore. He forfeited that right the second one little drop of blood fell from Brooke’s beautiful face.

  “There he is, just the fierce warrior I needed to talk to,” Hilf says in his most ingratiating voice.

  “And you,” I say, “the ghost. You’re dead, Hilf. You’re already dead. Get used to the idea.”

  “We will see,” he says. “But I doubt it. It’s not my death that’s been foretold. It’s yours.”

  “I already know,” I say. “And it’s fine with me because it still gives me plenty of time to make you hurt so bad you’ll curse your great-great-grandsire for injudiciously spilling his seed in that tavern whore.”

  “Please, dear Anax, let us act like the civilized races that we are.”

  “It’s civilized to torture a helpless female?” I rage at the screen.

  “No,” he admits, “but neither is it civilized to take something that does not belong to you. What is civilized is the resolution I propose. I’m very reasonable. My vita-packs—which are rightfully mine—in exchange for the human—which is rightfully yours.”

  “Where?” I say. I know I’ll meet him, agree to his terms, do anything he says until I have Brooke safe.

  After that, it’s going to be war. And not the civilized type, oh no, I’m looking forward to the war crimes and atrocities.

  “Not so fast,” Hilf says in a tone of voice as if I was a spoiled child. “Here’s the situation, just so you don’t get any funny ideas. The human will be locked into an escape pod. I will set the coordinates back to the Phuru Hall of Justice, but I will also set an autopilot delay timer for three hours. If you bring me the real vita-packs, I will stop the escape pod and release her to you. But if you try anything, if you kill me, she will go right back to serving her sentence on Phuru.”

  “Why should I trust you?” I ask. “You went back on your word before. You’re making a weapon to destroy planets.”

  “You don’t have to trust me,” Hilf says. “But it’s a big risk to take, not following my instructions. Three hours and she’ll be on course to Phuru. Besides, I’m not going to destroy any planets,” he says. “Just all the current inhabitants of one strategically-located planet. It’s not going to be vaporized… like what we did with Kenor, for example.”

  Hilf is silent while this revelation sinks in. Lord Phuru is the one who ordered the destruction of our home planet ten years ago? The bastard that myself and other remaining Kenorians have been serving? Oh, Hilf, I think, you foolish fop, you shouldn’t have told me this. He’s trying to goad me, enrage me, set me off so that I make a hasty mistake—but it’s having the opposite effect. I’m cold as ice, numb from head to toe. This is the thing that all remaining Kenorians have wanted to know: who destroyed our planet? And now I have received the knowledge like a precious gift.

  “Are you still there, Anax?” Hilf asks. “I didn’t upset you, did I?”

  “No,” I say, truthfully. “I’m fucking delighted.” And I smile. Because this is all I wanted to know for the last ten years, the secret that’s plagued me and kept me awake on countless nights.

  “Are you?” Hilf says. “Because you finally found out who wiped your little shit-smear of a planet off the map? Because you think that your brothers-in-arms are going to rise up and get revenge?” His mocking tone grates on me, but I let it grate. He’ll be dead soon enough.

  “Something like that,” I admit.

  “I advise you to come straight here with the vita-packs. You have three hours. I’ll beam the coordinates to your ship. Quickly now. Off you go. I’ll be in touch.”

  The transmission ends.

  I run out of my ship, trying to find Corvi. I know I promised him to never give up the vita-packs to Hilf, but I need to get Brooke back. I can trade him the vita-packs, then we can re-steal them. Something. Anything. I can’t let Brooke go back to Phuru, where I’ll never be able to rescue her. Where she’ll spend the rest of her life in servitude.

  I find him picking his teeth with a length of polymer string. “Corvi,” I shout. I tell him about what’s transpired as fast as possible. I don’t know how much time has passed already, but it’s going to be a close thing, getting to Brooke in time.

  When I finish, he gives me a stony look. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I will help you in any way that I can.”

  “Okay, give me the vita-packs. We’ll find another way to stop Hilf. He won’t be able to make the weapon right away. We’ll put a tracker or something inside them so we can find his base of manufacture.”

  “Anything except that,” he says. I rail against him, begging him, pleading, throwing my Kenorian pride out the window. “No,” he repeats. “I cannot give you the vita-packs.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because I destroyed them this morning.”

  Chapter 21

  Brooke

  The escape pod is so small, I’m starting to hyperventilate. I’ve lost track of the time, but it feels like hours have passed. In movies, the escape pods are always relatively luxurious, the size of a Toyota sedan, some equipped with small fold-down beds. In real life, Hilf has me in a long white pod that’s not much bigger than a coffin. I’m lying flat on my back, the ceiling of the pod just two inches away from my face. Hilf set the autopilot before he locked the hatch.

  “When I get my vita-packs,” he informed me, the sun still shining bright in the sky, “I’ll stop the pod, take off your collar and let you go home with your big lummox.”

  I’d like to believe him. I really would.

  I heard him explain the exchange to Anax, but I know we can’t trust Hilf. There’s no way this sneaky bastard is going to keep his word.

  That’s a fun thought that causes my heart rate to skyrocket again, just when I had it sort of under control. I try to breathe slowly and evenly, but focusing on my breathing only makes me more aware of how close I am to spiraling into uncontrolled panic.

  I try to remind myself that I’m not in any danger, that Hilf could have killed me already. He hasn’t even hurt me, not really. Yaubin gave me one slap across the face to draw a little blood before they contacted Anax, but truth be told, I was so beaked up on adrenaline that I didn’t even feel it.

  One thing Hilf said keeps going through my mind: I’m going to kill someone tomorrow. Or today? I’m not sure when the clock ticked over. I’m going to kill someone, and it’s going to be a favor for my enemy. I hope I get to kill Yaubin. That dude’s a sleazy prick of the highest order. In movies, the evil masterminds are always killing their henchmen to tie off loose ends, saying things like ‘You’ve served your purpose’ before they pull the trigger.

  This whole future-crime thing is messing with my head. I do have a choice, after all; it’s not like I’m some robot that’s been programmed. The Phurusians have calculated within ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine-nine-percent certainty that I’m going to do it, but there’s still that point-zero-zero-zero-zero-one chance that I won’t.

  And if anyone will do something irrational and nutty on that fraction of a percent, defying all logic, it’s an Earth human.

  There is a sudden boom on the lid of the capsule, and I really think the chambers of my heart are going to
burst like an old tire. My heart is already beating at max capacity, and now the thudding actually hurts my chest and makes me feel sick and dizzy.

  “Human,” the voice says. It’s Yaubin. Maybe I do get to kill him. At this point, I sort of want to kill someone. This whole space-abduction adventure has been predicated on my killing someone, so I might as well.

  “What?” I shout back. It’s so hot and stuffy in here, it’s hard to breathe, and even yelling one word makes it so I have to take a few deep breaths to try and get my wind.

  “There’s been a change of plans,” he says. The hatch to the capsule pops open, and the gust of fresh air that washes over me is utterly delightful. I take in huge gulps of air and look at the sky and the sun, and it all goes a long way towards calming the panic that was a hair’s breadth away from consuming me.

  “Where’s Hilf?” I say.

  “He’s inside,” Yaubin says.

  “What are you up to?” I ask. I don’t like being crammed into the escape pod with coordinates set to Phuru, but I don’t like going off with Yaubin, either. I have less of a chance of disarming a Kenorian warrior than the spindly Hilf.

  “I’m getting you out of here,” he says. I want so bad to believe him, but I was already stupid enough to trust him once.

  “Yeah, right,” I say. “Like you were going to take me back to Earth?”

  “I’m not rescuing you,” he admits. Well, shit, maybe I can trust him if he’s going to be brutally honest like this. Maybe he’ll keep up the honesty.

  “Going to sell me in a flesh market?” I ask.

  “Anax probably pumped your head full of nonsense, how valuable and precious you are, but after the auction house got its cut, I’d walk away with maybe four hundred credits. Probably less than that now that Anax has despoiled your virtue.”

  I seethe, wanting to kick him in the nuts. I hate Anax right now for lying to me, but what we did on the Floating City, what we did in his spaceship afterward, that was not despoliation.

  It was arlo foltest.

  Divine reckoning, the holy action between mates whose bond is true.

  True. Jesus. If our bond is true, why did he lie about being able to take me back to Earth? Because, you asshole, I tell myself, you were trying to sever it. You were asking to go back. Can you imagine how much that hurt him? That you were asking him to willingly cut his bond with his treasured arlo jzumak?

  Okay, I’m the asshole here.

  “Then what are you going to do with me?” I ask Yaubin.

  “We’re getting out of here,” he says. “Then I’m going to have Anax bring me the vita-packs. Those I can sell for a hell of a lot more than four hundred credits, I guarantee you.”

  “This is all money for you? What about being on the winning side?”

  “I had a better idea. With that much money, I can retire and never have to worry about picking sides ever again.”

  A good old double-cross. No honor among thieves.

  My devil’s advocate, lawyerly instinct is to argue with him and point out how stupid his plan is, but if it gets me out of that escape pod, I’ll take my chances. Yaubin might kill Anax and me after he gets the vita-packs, but Hilf was probably going to do the same thing.

  “Alright, let’s go,” I say.

  “That’s a nice attitude to have,” he says. “Keep it up and you’ll get out of this alive and unscathed.”

  There’s a narrow walkway between two buildings, and we have plenty of cover while we slink around. I barely got a chance to see the palace from the outside because Hilf crammed me into the escape pod and shut the lid. Now that I can see it, it’s magnificent. The bio-dome on planet Phuru was a sterile, clean, institutional society. Everything planned and perfect. This planet, however, is Lord Phuru’s private summer palace, his personal version of Versailles or something. The palace itself is huge, ornate and not at all what I’d expect from a Phurusian. There are rambling wings, inconsistently patterned stained-glass windows, overgrown gardens and splashing fountains. Then I see sculptures on the pediment, and the figures depicted aren’t Phurusian, but some other alien creatures. That’s when I realize that the Phurusians must have taken this planet from some other civilization—possibly with the help of the Kenorians.

  Behind us the compound is getting smaller, and I see Yaubin’s ship in the distance. It’s not far away in terms of actual distance—maybe only an eighth of a mile—but we’ll be on exposed, bare land, sticking out like two cockroaches on a white tablecloth. It would only take Hilf a split second to notice something was wrong and spot us out here.

  “This seems too easy,” I say, not really talking to Yaubin, but he turns back to listen, so I continue. “Hilf wasn’t monitoring us? He just went inside and left you to wander around? I mean, he’s not stupid.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Yaubin says. “No one ever accused Hilf of stupidity.”

  “Though I can’t say the same about you.” Both of us whirl around and see Hilf standing right behind us.

  “Hilf,” Yaubin says.

  “I’m very disappointed in you,” Hilf says. “I had the escape pod under audio-visual surveillance. You thought you could just take her out from underneath my nose? Are you that cocky or that stupid?”

  Yaubin doesn’t answer.

  “You’ve been useful,” Hilf says. He takes his staff from his belt and levels it at Yaubin, but before the warrior can explain himself or plead for mercy, he’s burned in front of my eyes. His purplish skin blisters and turns red, then starts peeling off in gooey, bloody sheets. His bones turn black and crumble to ash.

  “Holy Christ,” I whisper.

  “You want it to be your turn?” Hilf asks me. “Then get back into the pod.”

  I don’t want a turn with that weapon, no, sir.

  I start walking back to the pod, defeated, my only hope that Anax comes to save me.

  “You can’t fight your nature,” Hilf says. “My nature is simple self-preservation. It’s in my interest to eliminate all the Kenorians. Lord Phuru fears them. And I fear what Lord Phuru fears. I fear Anax most of all, since he has the most to lose. Therefore, I will take it away from him.”

  What’s my nature? I think. Until this whole ordeal, I would have said quiet, intellectual, determined. But my true, dormant nature has been awakened.

  I am a warrior. I am a fighter.

  I can’t just shuffle back to the pod like a sheep to the slaughterhouse, hoping that someone else will come and do the hard work of saving my life.

  I do want to live. This dandy bastard isn’t going to cheat me out of the time I have with my arlo jzumak. I mean, how many people in the Universe get to say they have a Fated Mate? Not many. I’ll be damned if I just give up.

  I stop walking and turn around. Before Hilf can ask me some snarky question or deliver an insult to my intellect, I lunge at him, taking us both to the ground. I can see his ribcage under his translucent skin. I clench my fists together like I’m going to serve a volleyball and pound down at the ribcage juncture, like I’m giving him the Heimlich maneuver. I figure to buy myself a few seconds where I can take his staff and point it at him, but it feels like I just hit a brick wall with my fists, and he doesn’t even flinch for the time it takes to blink an eye.

  He might be stronger, but I’m more nimble, and I spring up and run. Hilf can’t possibly search the entire planet. I can hole up somewhere and figure out a plan, I can—

  I’m frozen in my tracks. The collar around my neck stops in mid-air and starts to move backwards. That fucking collar, I forgot I was wearing it. I’m being reeled backwards like an overeager dog on a retractor leash. I claw at my neck, trying to get some breathing room as it crushes my windpipe. I scramble my feet backwards to keep up with the moving collar, but they tangle and I fall flat on my ass.

  Hilf’s still controlling the collar, reeling me back, and I’m dragged along the ground. I grab the collar and try to get up, but the terrain is rocky and uneven. Stones jut out of the hardpan and gou
ge my hips and spine as I’m pulled. Isn’t this what happened to Hector in the Trojan War? I hope the poor bastard was dead before they dragged him along the road because this is terrible.

  “Stupid human,” Hilf says. “You think you can give me a little bonk and run away to freedom? Are your survival instincts so primitive and unrefined?”

  I don’t answer because he’s right. I might be a warrior by nature, but my musculature and reflexes have more than a little catching up to do.

  “You were going to be useful to me, but now you’re causing more trouble than you’re worth,” Hilf says as he grabs a hank of my hair and pulls me to my feet. He leads me back towards the escape pod.

  “You need me,” I try and bargain, “to get the vita-packs from Anax.”

  “You’re right about that,” he says and smiles. He throws me forward, and I land inside the escape pod. He puts a foot on my chest, pinning me down. “I do need you.”

  Relief floods over me. I’m not dead yet.

  He reaches into his pocket and takes out what looks like a small egg, smooth and white, but at this close distance I can see there are three buttons on it.

  “They say there’s no worse foe than one with nothing to lose, but that’s nonsense. The enemy with everything to lose is so much more dangerous. But the easiest enemy to beat is the one who’s recently lost something valuable. They’re so sad, already halfway defeated. So technically, you are right, I do need you,” he repeats, pointing the egg-shaped thing towards me. He poises his thumb over one of the buttons. That’s when I realize it’s a remote control. “But I don’t need you alive. It will be such a delight to see Anax’s face when he opens this pod and sees you splattered all over the inside.”

  Chapter 22

  Anax

  I have nothing except my weapon. It’s gotten me out of numerous scrapes before, but nothing of this magnitude. Before, it only had to save my life. Now it’s gotta do a really important job: save Brooke’s.

  I use my ship’s biomass scanner and lock in on what I hope is Brooke’s energy signature. There’s not much on this planet except for Lord Phuru’s vacant summer palace. These Phurusians never cease to amaze me with their decadence. An entire planet and palace kept empty and on-call to cater to one spoiled leader’s whims. I’m not picking up on Hilf or any henchmen. He probably left, the coward, but I can’t say I blame him—because when I see him, whatever lungful of air he has just drawn in will be his last.