Randar (Intergalactic Soulmates Book 1)

by Annabelle Rex

Randar’s headache pulsed. “I can’t do that.”

  “Nonsense,” Cael said. “It’s evening anyway, I don’t have many engagements left. Just dinner with the delegation from Finland, and they’re here on the Station. The rest is video calls. I don’t think I’m at any risk.”

  Randar unclenched his jaw. It was his duty to keep Cael safe, and Cael could sometimes have a very generous attitude towards the Human delegations. Randar didn’t think Cael was wrong - the Finnish delegation had visited before and Randar found them very agreeable - but it was his job to be there just in case. And it was more than just duty. Cael was his friend, and Randar hated to think that anything might happen to him while Randar was busy with his Match.

  “It’s not a good idea to attend any engagement alone,” Randar said.

  “I won’t be alone,” Cael said with a wave of his hand. “There will be staff members in the room.”

  “Garrix can cover you for tonight,” Tarkken said.

  “Garrix can cover you,” Cael echoed, but then made a face. “Is he the surly one that doesn’t talk?”

  Tarkken’s lips quirked in a brief smile. “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I suppose I do enough talking for two,” Cael said with a shrug. “Go and meet your Match, Randar. I don’t want to see you all evening.”

  Randar didn’t have a chance to answer before Cael turned and walked out.

  “He’s not wrong about this evening,” Tarkken said. “Garrix is more than capable of covering.”

  “Garrix is unimaginative. A dutiful soldier, but not exactly dynamic.”

  “I don’t think he’ll have any cause to be dynamic this evening.”

  “No,” Randar conceded. “Just don’t let Cael convince you Garrix is sufficient cover for anything planet-side. You know he’ll probably try if he thinks he’s doing me a favour.”

  “I won’t,” Tarkken said. “I’m not that stupid.”

  “I know,” Randar said.

  Tarkken could be brusque, but he was very good at his job. And despite Tarkken’s best efforts, Randar rather liked him.

  “Your Match will be arriving inside of an hour,” Tarkken said. “Do try to switch off and not worry about our royal charge. A night off would do you some good. You’ve been tense lately.”

  Randar looked over at the wall of Tarkken’s office that was dedicated to tracking the top security threats to Cael. Every day new ‘resistance’ groups were popping up - some of them harmless sign waving protesters, others inciting violence. In the number one spot for several weeks now was a group from England calling themselves the English Protection of Humans League. They were headed by a guy called Nick Gillespie, who had the sort of face that looked like it had been punched one too many times. Randar would have loved five minutes alone in a room with him to persuade him that Cael wasn’t worth targeting, but Cael argued such things weren’t going to improve Human-Intergalactic Community relations.

  Was Angela from England? Would she know people involved in the EPHL? The headache pulsed a little louder.

  “Garrix can cover for tonight, but tomorrow I’ll be back on duty,” Randar said. “Cael isn’t going to cancel any appointments planet-side and I won’t have anyone else go with him.”

  Tarkken grimaced. “Neither would I. I don’t like the feel of things right now. These Humans are… bothersome.” His grimace deepened. “I mean no offence to your Match.”

  Randar nodded, accepting the apology. “Cael thinks my Match could smooth things over with the Humans.”

  Tarkken glanced at the wall, at Nick Gillespie and the other faces of Human hatred alongside him. “I really hope so.”

  Chapter 4

  ANGELA DIDN’T CONSIDER HERSELF A NERVOUS flyer, but her stomach did a little dance as she clipped herself in to her seat on the shuttle that would take her up to the space station in orbit around Earth. A Human driver had brought her to the shuttle launch pad, but he’d merely put her on the shuttle, then left. A slightly robotic voice spoke up as soon as he got off, instructing Angela to sit down.

  The engines hummed, a small vibration passing through the vessel, then, abruptly, they were in the air.

  Angela forgot to be afraid as they rose, smooth as a fish through water, up through the clouds then higher and higher until the sky overhead darkened, the curvature of the Earth clear beneath them. And then, a final break through the atmosphere into space. Suddenly, there were stars everywhere. So much brighter than they had ever appeared from Earth, Angela unclipped herself and went to the window, gazing out at the scene around her. The bleak emptiness of it. The beauty.

  And then, the Station came in to view - a massive structure that hung in the space before her. It looked large to start with, but perspective was difficult to gauge with only the backdrop of far distant stars. The further they travelled, the larger and larger it grew, until it took up the entire of Angela’s field of vision. Closer and closer they continued to travel until, at last, the shuttle connected with an outstretched arm of the Station, sealing to it with a soft thunk and hiss.

  “Please disembark the shuttle,” the robotic voice said.

  “Make sure you take all your belongings,” Angela muttered, “and be careful when opening overhead lockers.”

  “There aren’t any overhead lockers,” the robotic voice said, making Angela jump.

  “You’re a person?” she said, looking round for the source of the voice.

  “I’m an Artificial Intelligence.”

  “Oh,” Angela said, then hurried towards the exit of the shuttle.

  When she reached the outer door of the shuttle, she paused. Was her Match waiting on the other side? Would the doors open to reveal him, Randar Cresli, in all his real glory? She wondered how she would react to seeing him. If he was perfect for her in every way as the advertising claimed, would she be instantly attracted to him? What would she do if she was?

  With a deep breath, she pushed the button to open the door.

  There were people in the corridor, but none of them were Randar. A female-looking person stepped up to the doorway, a smile on their slightly reptilian, but still somehow beautiful face.

  “Welcome aboard the Station,” they said, holding out a hand for Angela to shake.

  Angela wondered if handshaking was a universal constant, or if these people had been instructed in Human culture and customs. She took the hand - warm, slightly coarse - and shook it. The reptilian person smiled a pointy-toothed smile and gestured to their colleague.

  “This is Doctor Mannoran, he will be taking care of your health check, identity implant and translator.”

  Doctor Mannoran smiled and gave a small wave. He looked much closer to Human than his colleague, except he didn’t appear to have any ears. He unclipped a tablet from his belt and swiped his fingers across the screen.

  “Hi,” the tablet said in a synthesised voice. “Welcome aboard. My colleague Joraczic is here to facilitate answering any questions, but her English is limited. Once we have your translator in place, things will be much easier. Please follow us.”

  Doctor Mannoran gave a slight bow and gestured to Angela to follow. With no small amount of trepidation, she did.

  The first few corridors of the Station were small, claustrophobic, and utilitarian. They looked like every sci-fi movie Angela had ever sat through with a guy who’d dumped her a few days later. But then they arrived at a slightly larger door, which Doctor Mannoran opened with a smile and a flourish.

  Angela’s eyes widened. The space before them was huge - a wide open room with high ceilings and at least two floors of walkways joining buildings and streets. Enormous vine plants climbed up the sides of walls and stairways, bringing a bit of colour and organic beauty to the surroundings. On one wall, huge glass panels looked out on a spectacular view of the little green and blue planet Angela called home.

  “Go look if you want,” Joraczic said, gesturing to the view.

  Angela, her voice somewhere other than her throat, nodded, and walked swiftly
towards the great glass windows. As she got closer, she realised they marked the edges of a park space. Like most parks on Earth, walkways threaded through it, flanked by flowers, with the occasional bench to sit on. There was even running water, though it was all contained within clear pipes, bar a small pond at the very centre. Angela took a deep breath, smelling not stale recycled air, but the fresh scent of pollen and greenery.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Doctor Mannoran raised his tablet, pushing several buttons on it before swiping his finger across the screen again.

  “Many Humans are impressed with view,” the synth voice said.

  “I’m not surprised,” Angela said, looking out at Earth. They were orbiting somewhere over China. Angela tried to spot the Great Wall - she’d read you could see it from space - but Joraczic tapped a clawed finger on her shoulder.

  “We go to Medical Centre now?”

  Angela nodded. She realised their perfect little speech at the shuttle must have been rehearsed, maybe said many times before. Their attempts at spontaneous conversation were much more rusty, but Angela appreciated the touch. It made her feel less… out of her depth.

  They walked through the large open space into another corridor. This one was all clean white lines and strip lighting. Distinctly medical in feel. At last, they arrived at a door which Doctor Mannoran opened with a swipe of his hand in front of a sensor. Inside, a chair not unlike a dentist’s stood in the middle of the room. Doctor Mannoran tapped the back of it and gestured for Angela to come forward. She took her seat, her heart rate spiking as nerves got the better of her.

  “Translator first,” Joraczic said with a smile. “Then we talk properly.”

  Doctor Mannoran went to a bench against the wall, where he pulled open cupboards, collecting supplies onto a metal tray.

  “Er, what does this involve?” Angela asked, her anxiety rising.

  “Small pinch,” Joraczic said, placing her thumb and forefinger close together. “Very small.”

  Doctor Mannoran put a hand on Angela’s shoulder, then turned her head to the right.

  “Keep still now,” Joraczic said.

  Angela tried not to tense as Doctor Mannoran pressed something cold to a spot behind her ear.

  There was a thunk that Angela felt rather than heard, followed by a pinching sensation. The ‘very’ was perhaps overstating it, but it wasn’t as bad as Angela feared it might be. It felt a bit like when she accidentally pinched her skin in a dress zip. A spike of pain followed by a dull throb, but not terrible.

  Doctor Mannoran put something down, then pressed something to the spot he’d just pinched. Angela felt a click, and then a crackling sound. Doctor Mannoran stepped back and waved at Joraczic.

  “How does this sound?” Joraczic asked.

  At first, it sounded like gibberish - two sets of words being spoken at the same time. But then whatever they’d just put behind her ear parsed the noise and Angela heard English.

  “I can understand you,” she said.

  Joraczic smiled. “Good. Nice to meet you properly. How was our English? We’re always trying to improve, but your language doesn’t suit my tongue so well.”

  A reptilian tongue slipped out from between her lips momentarily before retreating.

  “It was understandable,” Angela said. “Very understandable.”

  Joraczic beamed at her. “Thank you.”

  Doctor Mannoran had switched out the tools on his tray and he gestured for Angela to lie back.

  “Next is your ID chip. It’s a bit sharper than the translator, but it only hurts for a second,” Joraczic said, perching on the chair on the side opposite to where the doctor was working. “It goes in your wrist. You can’t see it once it’s in, but it can be programmed with codes for the doors. Look at me, not him, that’s it.”

  Now Joraczic was speaking her mother tongue, her tone was much clearer, making her unfamiliar facial expressions easier to read. Angela found herself relaxing, just as a white hot pain shot through her arm.

  “Ow, mother f…” she bit back the word as Doctor Mannoran slapped something damp on her wrist that soothed the pain instantly.

  Joraczic gave her a sympathetic wince.

  “That’s the last of the actual procedures,” she said. “You and Randar aren’t biologically compatible, so no need for contraceptive.”

  “What?” Angela said. “What does that mean?”

  “Oh, sorry, just ask me to slow down any time if I’m going too fast. Biological incompatibility means you aren’t able to have children. So we don’t have to discuss contraceptive options. If you’re concerned about diseases, please be assured that our health care protocols ensure that no one on board is carrying anything that’s harmful.”

  “Well, what if I want children?” she said.

  She didn’t. The idea of motherhood filled Angela with a visceral kind of horror. Everything from pregnancy to actually having a baby sounded like a really bad deal. Her own mother had died in a car accident when she was very young and her father… Well, he hadn’t exactly been the parental type. She often wondered if it was her lack of a normal family upbringing that made children seem so unappealing to her, but Zenab had grown up in a large, and to all appearances functional family, with both parents doting on her and her siblings, and she felt the same way Angela did.

  “Why on Earth would you want to ruin your figure to bring a squalling brat into the world and then pay for it for the rest of your life? I’ll have a holiday in the Bahamas instead,” Zenab had said once.

  Susan and Kimberly decried this as awful, but while Angela wouldn’t have put it quite so bluntly, she had to agree.

  Joraczic looked confused. “You want children?”

  “No,” Angela said. “But what if I did?”

  “Then your Match wouldn’t be biologically incompatible with you,” Joraczic said, as if this were self explanatory. She smiled after a moment, her sunny disposition returning. “So, just a general check up now.”

  The general check up involved a full body scan, followed by some of the more familiar checks. Angela had her height and weight measured, her limbs counted, a vial of her blood drawn. Finally, she had to fill in a questionnaire about her general health - levels of physical activity, previous illnesses, family history, plus some more interesting questions, including how many senses do you identify as having, do you carry any symbiotic organisms and do you have any other bodily functions beyond the typical? The typical was specified as ‘movement, breathing, eating, growth, excretion, reproduction’.

  “Your chip is programmed to give you access to all communal areas,” Joraczic explained, as Doctor Mannoran processed the results of the various checks. “It also gives you access to your new quarters.”

  “My new quarters?” Angela asked. “I’m staying up here? I didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”

  Joraczic smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Do you have a friend you can ask to pack a bag for you? We can have your clothes brought up in the next shuttle. Or you could take a look at the clothes available here. There aren’t any shops, but some of the residents do recycling and modification of garments.”

  “I don’t think they’re going to want my Earth money.”

  “Your Match will have our currency,” Joraczic said, then grinned. “Did you know you’re going to be our first Human Match? Others have been Matched before you, but you’re going to be the first to meet their Match. You’re going to be a bit of a celebrity here when word gets out.”

  Angela tried not to grimace. “I’ll contact Chelsea, my friend. She’ll sort me a bag out.”

  “Excellent,” Joraczic said. “Right, we’re all done here. You’re the picture of perfect health. Now let me show you to your quarters. Your Match is Randar, isn’t he? Lucky girl - he’s a really nice guy. He’s got one of the better apartments on the station, so it shouldn’t be too much of an adjustment for you, staying here. Space is limited here, so some of the accommodations aren’t
exactly spacious. Randar has a suite, though - one of the perks of being important.”

  “Wait, I’m going to be staying in his apartment?”

  Joraczic gave her a questioning look. “Yes, he’s your Match.”

  “But I’ve not even met him yet,” Angela protested. “You expect me to just move in with him?”

  Joraczic glanced at Doctor Mannoran and they exchanged a knowing look.

  “Why don’t I summon Randar and have him show you to your quarters,” Joraczic said. “You must be anxious to meet him.”

  Anxious was exactly the word, but not quite in the sense that Joraczic meant. There was no pleasant fizz of butterflies in the stomach, or nervous anticipation, just a growing cold stone in the depths of her stomach.

  What if he’s awful?

  What if he’s not?

  Joraczic made a call on a device she pulled from her pocket, then took Angela from the medical room to another on the same corridor. It looked to be a waiting room, with several chairs dotted around. On the far wall, a small window gave a glimpse of the spectacular view of Earth.

  “He’ll be along in a minute,” Joraczic said. “I wish you every happiness.”

  It seemed such a final thing to say. Like this was a wedding, not the first meeting. Angela sat down, but stood up again, tried to outpace her nerves before finally settling in front of the window, gazing out at the planet she’d only left behind this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  The sound of the door hissing open made Angela’s shoulders bunch, tension racing through her body. She knew she should turn around, but she couldn’t seem to find the right signals to move her feet.

  “Angela?”

  His voice was gruff, his accent twisting her name into a new, strange shape. Angela took a breath and turned around.

  Her eyes landed first on a broad, muscular chest. She looked up - a novel sensation - past full, kissable lips to meet Randar Cresli’s eyes for the first time.

  He was big. Maybe seven foot tall, and built like a rugby player. Angela felt a little thrill of delight that her Match was taller than her, a thrill that developed into something far more primal as she got a good look at him.