He opened the message. His breath caught. His mate was the most beautiful human he’d ever seen, with light brown skin and dark eyes. Her bio said that she was was a British citizen, a Jamaican of Hakka descent whose family immigrated to the United Kingdom during something called Windrush. How he came to be matched also became abundantly clear. He mentally chastised himself. He should have been more suspicious. Hatrin had been instructed by the Mylos Council to search among the best candidates for a possible mate match for him. Fate had smiled and found he did indeed have one among the possibles.
A chill swept under his skin, quickly chased by a fiery itch along his veins. He knew without looking that his scales were making an appearance. More changes were coming. There was nothing for it, he’d have to go down to the planet and claim his Bride. He swallowed. She’ll be as shocked, if not more, at both pieces of news.After all, it was a billion in one chance, right? Dread seized him. What if she rejected him? These humans had only just learned that life beyond their solar system truly did exist, and that it was intelligent. Would she be able to overlook their cultural and physical differences and embrace him wholeheartedly? He shook himself mentally. Of course she would. The matching process took in the mate’s psychological profile, after all. Any xenophobia would have ruled her out.
He tapped his kunnarskyn, sending notification of his acceptance and opened the diplomatic channel to the United Kingdom’s Prime Minister. She answered immediately.
“Emissary Taryn! It is such an honour to discover that the first bride is one of our very own flowers of Britain,” Prime Minister Simms said. Tellan blinked. Was the translator not working properly? Flower? And why did this woman alway seem to get his name wrong? “I understand that there is a biological necessity for Mylos to, uh, claim their bride without delay. Is it correct of me to assume you will be shuttling down soon?”
“I am leaving my quarters as of this moment,” he confirmed, exiting his rooms , his long legs eating up the distance between his quarters and the shuttle bay quickly. “We shall be using the pre-agreed upon landing coordinates you listed for your country. Please make sure your military expect us so that we may land without incident.”
He could hear furious whispering. He shook his head. He really shouldn’t have had to ask her to ensure their safety. One of the points of negotiation would be blanket access as long as the correct codes and a destination were submitted prior to takeoff. Said destinations being specific locations in various places around the globe, where potential brides could register their data to see if they had a match among the Bride Fleet that would follow. It was a point of contention. The humans had agreed to the program in exchange for knowledge but had not yet agreed as to specific locations for the registry offices. The result was that, at present, all shuttles had to request clearance to land at designated military bases.
“Uh, Emissary Tellan, sorry for the delay. Your bride match lives in London and to avoid any unfortunate delays in your bringing her, err, home, it was suggested that you land closer than Lakenheath. Your pilot should take you to RAF Northolt, instead. I am having the Defense Minister notify them now and they will contact your ship within the next several minutes to give the necessary coordinates.”
Of course this wasn’t going to go simply. He gritted his teeth, entering the shuttle bay. “It needs to be within the next ten minutes of your time measurements, because I am about to board my shuttle now.”
“Oh!” he heard her squeak. “Dorien, forget contacting Monty. Just get the base commander on the line for me right now!” she hissed at someone in her office, unmindful that he could hear her.
“Thank you very much for the kind consideration,” he told her. “I assume I will be meeting you there at this RAF Northolt?”
“Ah, yes?” her answer sounded more like a question, but he let that slide. “As soon as I’m off the line, I’ll be taking my car to go meet you.”
“Excellent. I shall let you get on with what you need to do to ensure a safe landing and claiming.” He ended the communication, stopping outside the shuttle he spied a pilot finishing a flight pre-check on. “Are we ready?” he called out to the pilot.
The pilot turned around and snapped to attention. Offering a salute, fist to chest then hand pulled back and fist opened. “Yes, Ambassador!”
“The humans will be sending new landing coordinates,” Tellan informed him, “within the area known as London, England, United Kingdom. We can expect to receive those in several minutes.”
“It will not delay our takeoff,” the pilot said, lowering the ramp for them both to board. “I do not need the specific location until we arrive in the general location.”
Tellan grinned. “I’m sure if we arrive above London and they have not yet contacted us, they will do so as soon as they see us.”
The pilot grinned back. “Without a doubt.”
Chapter Five
The humans had not gotten the coordinates to them within the promised span of time. Tellan was not surprised by this. So far, the name of the game had been delay, delay, delay. The humans seemed fond of what they called red tape, though as far as he understood it, there was no actual tape involved. He wondered if at one time there had been and wondered how it would have been applied. They had managed to get the landing details to them before they could be seen by the naked eye over British airspace, though.
The female official in charge of his bride’s country, Prime Minister Alison Simms, greeted him with a nervous smile. He sensed something was not quite right and studied her intently. Yes, by her body language and that of her aides, they were hiding something.
“Hello, Emissary Tollin,” she called out, her tone one of false cheer. “So glad to meet you in these circumstances.” She ushered him towards her official land vehicle, a primitive thing with four wheels that ran along the ground. Her driver held the door open and she climbed into the backseat, scooting over so he could get in after her.
“Thank you,” he replied, not correcting her on his name. “Is there anything wrong with the other door?” he asked, taking the proffered seat. The driver closed the door.
“What?” She coloured, a pink flush darkening her fair skin as she understood what he meant. “Oh, no, just trying to save us some time.” He nodded, though he didn’t see how the few seconds it would have taken to walk around to the other side of the vehicle and get in was any kind of significant time savings. The driver took his seat and started the car, then pulled away slowly. Once clear of the landing field, the vehicle began to pick up speed. “Your bride wasn’t at home but I have people locating her as we speak,” she informed Tellan.
“She was not at the registry?” he asked puzzled. While no Mylos operated registries were in existence yet, he had been of the understanding that the human governments were using official offices for the potential brides to enter their data.
“Well, about that…” The Prime Minister looked uncomfortable. “We couldn’t outright just ask our women to come register. We had to make certain they would be interested and then if they were a match, let them know. We didn’t understand until after the program was underway that the matching Mylos groom would be notified immediately and that it was such a life or death scenario.”
“I see.”
“We believed our women would have the ability to decide if they wanted to get to know their match, date, that sort of thing. Like a human dating service,” she said helpfully.
The sinking feeling had returned. “My mate does not know I am coming, does she?” her expression told him everything he needed to know. “I am not even going to ask how you got the potential brides to hand over the necessary data, but am I also correct in assuming that my mate is unaware that she signed herself up to be a bride?”
The Prime Minister shook her head slowly in the gesture he had learned meant ‘no’. “She does not.”
This was bad. This was very, very bad. They passed the rest of the journey to his mate’s place of residence in silence.
> ****
The area around his mate’s home was blocked off by local security forces. Their car was let through and they followed one of the officers to an unassuming looking building. It soon became apparent that the building held a dwelling on each floor, one subterranean one and four above ground. His mate lived on the third one above ground. An agitated looking female waited for them. “I’m Superintendent Chalmers and this is Morag Simmons from the letting agency,” the officer informed them. “She came with the key to let you in to wait for Ms. Chin to return home. Her neighbours inform us that she visits her mother’s house for Sunday dinner each week and should be back shortly as she normally returns around this time.” The letting agent gave a curt nod and unlocked the door.
“Am I free to go now? You’re the P.M. and all and you’re with the police, so it’s not like you’re going to steal anything,” the woman said with a tremulous smile, her eyes darting to look at Tellan in curiosity. He gave her a soft smile. Her eyes widened.
“Yes, you may go, thank you,” Simms told her dismissively. The agent did not have to be told twice. Simms took a seat. Tellan stood, turning about to take in his mate’s home. He’d never seen a human’s personal dwelling before in person and wished to see how his mate had created her personal space. It seemed full of things to look at, mainly small objects of some kind of pottery made to look like one of the small animals that humans often kept as pets. Cats, he believed they were called. A small cage stood on a stand in a corner, two small colourful avians inside. Another type of pet, he believed. He sat down on the other end of the sofa from the Prime Minister. Hopefully, the information was correct and the wait would not be long. He could scent his mate within her home and it made his skin itch. From the surreptitious looks he was getting from the Prime Minister and the officers who waited with them, he knew his scales must be making an appearance. He blinked to refocus his vision. The change was coming fast indeed if his eyes had already morphed.
The entrance to the dwelling opened. Tellan felt his breath stutter as he drank in the vision that was his mate. She looked confused. She gaped at both Tellan and Prime Minister Simms as they rose to greet her. “Prime Minister? And Commander…Talon, was it?” she asked, disbelief apparent in her tone. He smiled and relaxed his giant frame, hoping to appear non-threatening. What is it they say? Ah, yes. It’s crunch time.
Chapter Six
Laurel listened in disbelief. If she didn’t go with this alien ambassador, commander, emissary, or whatever he was, have sex with him, and remain as his mate, he’d die and a major interstellar incident would be on her shoulders. The Prime Minister had taken her aside and informed her of this in no uncertain terms. It was all all down to her, trade or war, it sounded like. She peered over at the large alien closely examining her budgies, Pip and Pop, while sipping tea from a Rainbow Brite mug one of her nieces had given her.
Well, I can’t risk war, she told herself in dismay. She says they haven’t threatened anything overtly but let’s be honest. They want brides, they’ll get brides, one way or the other. His government isn’t going to take a no lightly, especially after the UN agreed to supply the brides. My refusal would be seen as betrayal. If the Mylos didn’t react badly to it, the other countries here on Earth certainly would. War to the left of, war to the right, and marriage to the alien ahead of me. She pictured the scene as she’d left her mother’s house earlier, Charlotte waving happily at her from the balcony. I can’t risk the possibility of anything horrible happening to them or anyone else, she told herself firmly.
“When do we leave?” she asked abruptly, interrupting Prime Minister’s Simm’s spiel on all the ways her family would be rewarded for her efforts on behalf of Great Britain and Earth.
Tellan turned to face her, relief evident on his face. She wondered what he thought of the whole thing. From his reactions, he’d not known what to expect. “As soon as you can pack whatever you need to take. Anything else you wish to bring up can be packed and brought to a later shuttle.”
She nodded. “Just let me pack a couple suitcases and I do wish to take my budgies.”
“Bug-gees?” he canted his head quizzically. “Ah, your pet avians?” he guessed.
“Yes, my birds. Pip and Pop come with me now.”
“It shall be so,” he agreed. He looked at the P.M. “The cage stand is quite large. Perhaps a larger vehicle would be in order?”
“If I may, Prime Minister?” an officer standing by the closed door offered. “Superintendent Chalmers would probably allow the use of the van we have outside.” The superintendent puffed himself up.
“Yes, excellent suggestion. If need be, we can also transport the , uh, happy couple, to base. No prying eyes, that way.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion,” Simms agreed, a calculating look in her eyes. Yeah, you can’t wait to get rid of the hot potato, Laurel thought to herself.
“I’ll go pack now,” Laurel announced. She hurried into her bedroom and pulled out two small suitcases from the top of her wardrobe. She paused, wondering what to bring. She poked her head out of her bedroom door. “Tellan, what is the climate like aboard your ship?” she asked.
“It is kept at a constant temperature,” he informed her. “In your measurements, it would be a constant 30 degrees.”
Hot summer temperatures, then. “I don’t suppose our quarters could be cooled?’
“It can be so arranged, yes.”
She decided to pack summer wear anyway. It wasn’t as if she was going to ask for their rooms to be turned into a winter wonderland or anything like that. She tossed in her undergarments, summer pyjamas, several t-shirts, shorts, and her favourite jeans in one suitcase. In the other she put smart casual wear and her one all occasion little black dress. She went into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of plastic shopping bags. She placed her chosen footwear in them before placing them in the suitcase, not wishing to soil the clothes. She closed both suitcases as they were now full. She glanced about looking for something to put her makeup and toiletries in. Seeing nothing, she picked up another plastic bag. In went her cosmetic case, comb and hair pick, and hair products. She took the bag and went into the small bathroom, grabbing her body wash, shampoo, conditioner, razor, and shaving gel. She returned to her bedroom and placed the bag on the bed next to the suitcases. She put her jewelry box and earring tree into another bag., then fumbled with it all, trying to take it all into her lounge. She was quickly divested of her burden by the uniformed officer.
“I’ll just have these taken down to the van,” he told her. She nodded.
A thought occurred to her. “I have a lot of food. Do I need to take it or?”
“We will be able to feed you,” Tellan assured her. “Though you may bring what you have in order to not waste it. Familiar foods may provide comfort, as well.”
“How do the Mylos cook? You have stoves and pots and pans and things?”
“In the mess hall, yes. We also have food replicators. I can have them scan your foods so they can be replicated for later,” he assured her.
“In the mess hall, huh? Okay, so no private kitchen, so no need to bring my pans and things. Just the food.” She returned to the kitchen, Tellan at her heels. He wordlessly took a bag from her and held it open. She smiled back at his sweet gesture, and began filling it with her tinned and bottled goods. Three bags later, her cupboards, fridge, and freezer were empty. She also thought to pack a tin opener at the last minute.
“I’m out of bags,:” she said, chagrined. “I still need to put Pip and Pop’s things in.” An idea came to mind and she scurried into her bathroom, then returned triumphantly with a small roll of plastic bin bags. “This should work,” she said, pulling a bag off the roll and filling it. Moments later, she was done. There was no more putting it off. “I guess this it,” she said. “Will I get to call my family?”
“We’ll have them brought to Number 10, you can speak to them before the press conference tomorrow,” Simms informed her.
&
nbsp; “Press conference?”
“Yes, to announce your marriage and new position,” the P.M. explained, her tone conveying an unsaid ‘of course’.
“Right. Okay.” Laurel looked at Tellan. Laurel found his cat-like gaze unsettling, but not unpleasant. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” He offered his arm. She took it and walked out behind the police superintendent and the uniformed officer whose name she never learned. Moments later they were in the van along with her meagre possessions and on their way. She held Tellan’s hand the entire short ride, his firm grip reassuring. When they stopped and the vans doors opened, she stepped out and stared in disbelief. This was the shuttle? Holy shit. Flying saucers are real.
Chapter Seven
Tellan could tell by his mate’s reaction that she’d never seen a Mylos shuttle before. “I understand our shuttles look a bit like a fictional craft from your pre-spaceflight era.”
“It certainly does,” Laurel replied, swivelling her head. “Not got any little green men in there, do you?”
“Not at the moment,” he replied soberly. She gaped at him then gave a nervous laugh as she decided he was joking. He decided to not elaborate. His own scales were rapidly rising and he expected that by the time they reached the ship, their pattern and colour would be fully discernible. Not that they were green. His were a soft, buttery yellow.
“You had me going for a minute,” she said as their pilot lowered the passenger ramp. She followed him up the ramp and glanced about. “I thought something was missing when I saw the ship from the outside. I know what it is now. I don’t see any windows! How is the pilot going to see where he’s going?”
Tellan: Brides of the Mylos Page 2
