Alien Redeemed

by Marie Dry

  The Zyrgin sat quiet for a long time. The alien hologram shifted from one jewel-encrusted boot to the other. “I will send a warrior and a citizen to evaluate your production schedule,” Zaar said. He waved a hand. “You may go.”

  The hologram winked out and Sarah thought she saw the alien in the hologram wipe his brow before the image winked out.

  Zaar sat quiet, everyone around him not daring to move. At last he looked around and as if they’d waited for a signal, the warriors stood and left the room with their women. Only the Wise One remained.

  He and Zaar grunted at each other in Zyrgin for a long time and then Zaar stood. “We will return to our room.” The Wise One bowed to Zaar and then to her, though he kept his gaze scrupulously away from her. Logically she knew he was not like the people in the church her father and her stepmother had belonged to. But emotionally she wanted to run every time she was confronted with his presence.

  When they reached their rooms, Sarah took off the uncomfortable heels and moaned. She may have been sitting the whole time, but her feet had been arched unnaturally. Her eyes sprang open. “Don’t get the doctor. That was a moan of sheer bliss.”

  “I have learned the difference,” he said. “You didn’t eat during the ceremony.”

  She shrugged. “Everyone was looking at me. I was too self-conscious to eat.” It was literally the only time in her life she could remember when she couldn’t make herself eat anything.

  “Everyone wanted to see the woman who became more than a breeder,” he said. He went to the door and grunted something at the warrior stationed outside and came back with coffee and a bowl of crisp white balls.

  Sarah sat down on the pelt she’d slept on before he made the bed. Somehow it was still the most comfortable place in the room. “Before I came, have you ever considered changing things? Allowing the women more freedom.” She was beginning to utterly despise that word: allow.

  He sat down next to her and placed her feet in his lap. He gently massaged the arched underside with a strong finger.

  “No, I changed our customs because of you. Never before did breeders attend a tribute ceremony.”

  “And the women visiting me?” she asked softly. It was the most wonderful thing. Because of her, things were changing. It would probably take a long time to get him to make more changes, but it was a start.

  Maybe if she could make a few more changes, whoever ruled after Zaar would have a parena that could make a bigger difference.

  His finger pressed into her arch, making her moan, and then he moved up, caressing her calf, behind her knee. “Are you ready to spend many hours with me in the sleeping place?”

  Her lips tugged up. “Yes my warrior, I am very ready.”

  19

  Again, the weeks that followed were busy, with visits from the other women, and her time was spent weaving and making jeans and dresses, and at night spending many, many hours with Zaar in their bed. Every now and then he’d still allow her to be on top. Though each time he very seriously told her never to speak of it. Sarah suspected he liked it when she was on top, but would wear an Aurelian dress before he’d admit it.

  When Sarah showed Zaar the loom she needed to weave finer cloths faster, he somehow managed to make her one from jinz izwe. Sarah started weaving the spider silk and when she showed Zaar the cloths she’d made, his eyes glittered. “You will put the Aurelians out of business.” Apparently, her dress at the tribute ceremony had started a new fashion. Parena-style jeans and long, elegant dresses, made of spider silk, were in high demand.

  She shook her head. He really hated that planet. She’d experimented with the colorful fruit and had managed to make some dyes. Zaar had been all set to demand dyes from Aurelia, but it had been easy to convince him that Zyrgin could provide much better dyes than any other planet. It felt like a lifetime ago when she’d planned to spin and weave cotton and wool produced on Charles’s farm. She’d always experimented with ways to use natural dyes, and those skills now came in handy.

  Sarah laid down the comb she used to push the weft—the silk she’d threaded through the tense yarns she’d stretched over the loom. She gently touched her stomach.

  Could she be pregnant? She’d suspected for a while now, but didn’t want to say anything before she was sure.

  She looked around her. Her home was slowly but surely starting to reflect her new life. The small corner created by the new bedroom wall and the wall of the large cavern, where she liked to work, was cosy, furnished with comfortable chairs in velvet and embroidered upholstery for when the other women joined her. She’d casually mentioned once that she’d like to have a working slash visiting area with a medieval look, and an hour later Zaar had carried everything in. When she’d asked him how he knew what medieval furniture looked like, he’d said, “I asked a medieval Zyrgin.” As if Zyrgins walked around in medieval times.

  Sarah had friends, and she had a home where she was safe—where no one would come and buy her. Sometimes it scared her, being this happy. She couldn’t help but worry that fate would punish her for being happy like it did all the other times in her life. After her stepmother’s betrayal, she’d promised herself she’d never again fully trust anyone. But she trusted Zaar and that made cold sweat break out on her skin at times like this, when she stopped working and thought about her life.

  When she’d set up this area, he’d almost been patient while she decided what went where. The shelves for her materials and sewing and embroidery equipment had taken a few grunts from him, and the walls had reshaped themselves, and she had space for all her paraphernalia. She could see why they guarded how they managed the jinz izwe. In the hands of their enemy it could be a formidable weapon. Zaar had told her it was only found on Zyrgin and that they were careful to never to let it fall into alien hands.

  Her loom and spinning wheel stood off to the side, next to the shelves holding the material she’d woven. She and Srinisisa and some of the other women had been thinking of starting a business. She and Srinisisa and Chamonte wanted to weave the spider silk and make garments. Some of the other women wanted to open a shop in the market and Sarah had promised to try to convince Zaar to let them.

  She had a life again. A good life with interests and a good friend and an emperor for a husband. Sarah smoothed her hand over her stomach that seemed a little rounder than before. A sexy green-and-gold alien that gave her chocolates and told her bedtime stories. Her body heated. A husband that gave her a toe-curling first knowing. Her laughter echoed around the room. An upside-down first knowing. He would never get over that. The beauty in her environment echoed the blossoming in her healing soul.

  She’d always have to live with what happened to her in those camps. With her stepmother’s betrayal and Margaret’s role in it. But she was happy and as healed as anyone could be after the camps. It comforted her to know that while the raiders were hunted and killed by the warriors, she was having a wonderful life. She had a purpose and she loved Zaar more than any woman should love a dangerous alien from another planet. She took a deep breath. There, she’d said it. She loved and trusted a man and the sky had not fallen on her head. A meteorite hadn’t struck the planet with the sole purpose of hitting her.

  Sarah touched her stomach again. She wasn’t sure yet, but even so, she should tell him, but the child in her, the scared little girl that didn’t dare trust, was afraid of his reaction.

  The doorbell that everyone except Zaar used, peeled, and Srinisisa’s smiling face showed on the wall next to the door. It was a recent addition. Zaar insisted that she always check who was outside before she opened the door. After being sold by family, it was an instruction she was happy to follow. “Open,” Sarah said and rose to greet her friend.

  Srinisisa entered and with a smile set a tray down on the small coffee table. “I brought some material for you to look at, and I hoped we could have tea together.”

  The other woman gestured to her warrior, who stood behind her, holding an enormous basket brimming w
ith materials. Sarah stood back and motioned to her craft corner. He put down the basket and after touching his forehead to Srinisisa’s, left without a word. Sarah knew he’d wait outside until her friend was ready to go home. She didn’t make the mistake of talking to or acknowledging him.

  “This is a lovely surprise.” She motioned to the coffee table. “Shall we have tea before it gets cold and look at the materials afterward?” She loved these visits with Srinisisa. It reminded her of the times when she and Natalie and Julia spent together. For a moment, her longing for Earth was a bittersweet ache in her chest. She forced it down and smiled at her friend. Today was a good day and she was happy.

  “I’d like that,” Srinisisa said. She shook her head when Sarah went to pour the tea. “Please, allow me.”

  Sarah smiled her thanks and sat down again, while the other woman got busy with a decorative, little pot and small glasses. Sarah leaned over and plucked a glimmering cloth from the basket. “I love the jewel colors of the silks—is it Aurelian?” The sheen was unmistakable. The material glimmered in the light and as she watched, a teal cloth spilled over the basket and onto the floor. Srinisisa held out the tea. “Yes, they make the best silks.” Srinisisa sounded strange; Sarah couldn’t put her finger on exactly what had caught her attention.

  Sarah accepted the cup from Srinisisa. “No, I think Zyrgin makes the best silks,” she gently teased.

  Srinisisa smiled and poured a drink from a smaller carafe for herself. “Not partial to human tea?” she teased. Zaar had teas and coffees and other edibles brought from Earth. He was determined that she’d become pleasingly round.

  Srinisisa laughed, that beautiful musical sound, and raised a small, beautifully decorated glass. “I much prefer the Aurelian morning drink. I believe it is much like your coffee.” She took a sip. “Is the Zyrgin around?” Srinisisa asked casually.

  Sarah smiled but something, some warning simmered down her spine. She ignored it. Her friend never liked to be there when Zaar was around or about to be. She didn’t blame her. Sarah still sometimes had difficulty dealing with the power her alien husband exuded. “No, he had to visit several of the other planets.” Problems with equipment and the holy fires on several planets had died inexplicably. He was determined to get to the bottom of it. She didn’t tell Srinisisa the details. Zaar wouldn’t like it and she wouldn’t do anything that would cause him to stop sharing information with her.

  Why did Srinisisa look so pleased? There was something almost sinister in her expression. Sarah yawned. “Oh excuse me, I don’t know why I’m so―” Her voice sounded strange.

  She blinked—everything around her turned hazy. Dully, as if she was encased in glass, she heard the cup shatter on the floor and then nothing.

  20

  Even before Sarah came to, her throat dry, parched and desperate for water, she knew something was terribly wrong. A sick, slimy feeling spread from her gut to her stomach, like melting ice mixing with dirt. She wanted to stay unconscious, didn’t want to acknowledge reality, but forced her heavy lids to lift. It was happening again. The horror was happening again.

  “The tea,” she mumbled. Srinisisa had brought the tea and materials. She’d talked about the colors of the cloth and then nothing. Sarah couldn’t remember anything after that. She certainly couldn’t remember leaving the apartment.

  After a year in raider camps, she had an overdeveloped sense of danger and she knew that she was in deep trouble. Where was Zaar? She tried to sit up, but her body was too sluggish and yet her heart beat so hard she thought it might jerk out of her chest. Sarah blinked and frowned up at the colorful ceiling. The Zyrgins definitely didn’t paint their ceilings with cherubs and naked women frolicking around flowers, and odd-looking animals. The ceiling was painted with rich colors and lots of gold. She blinked again. Very frisky animals.

  She lay on something soft, her feet dangling half on and half off. Sarah looked around her at the sumptuous room, richly decorated with rugs and velvet, upholstered chairs and little tables inlaid with intricate patterns. It reminded her of the room Zaar had put her in when she’d first arrived on Zyrgin. Longing ripped through her. She wanted Zaar—with him at her side, she didn’t fear anything. Light shone into the room and Sarah stared at it. The view from the window nearly stopped her heart; her breathing stuttered.

  Blue, not orange-brown. She didn’t want to accept what that meant. Pale blue sky. Unlike the deep blue of Earth, this one was a washed-out blue. Like a light blue dress after years of washing.

  She wasn’t on Zyrgin anymore. How could she be unconscious and wake on another planet? Surely it wasn’t that easy to abduct her under the noses of the best warriors in these parts. The sick, icy sludge feeling in her stomach became heavier, intensified. It was happening again—she’d been taken out of her home, and brought who knows where?

  Someone had betrayed her. She dug her nails into her palms. No, not someone, her best friend on Zyrgin.

  Srinisisa had betrayed her. Of all the people she’d met on Zyrgin, she’d never have expected it from her friend. Her moan was loud in the big room. Friend? More like a snake. She wanted to believe her friend, her so called friend, had a good reason? Something that could take away the betrayal and fear Sarah could taste on her tongue like dead ashes.

  Sarah couldn’t suppress the soft wail that forced its way past her lips. This couldn’t be happening. She was supposed to be safe on Zyrgin. She was the wife of an emperor. People should be too scared to betray her. No, not people, friends. Why was it always friends and family that betrayed her? And where was Zaar? If he was this powerful, why didn’t he stop this from happening to her?

  “Ah, you’re awake. Srinisisa said you’d be out for another hour,” a cultured, almost lisping female voice said.

  Sarah started and jerked upright, her hair falling into her eyes, and she pushed it aside. A tall, elegant woman stood in the doorway. Unlike on Zyrgin, it was an old-fashioned door that swung inward, and like everything in the room, it was almost painfully decorative. The tall, thin alien woman glided forward, her long dress floating around her ankles. At least six feet tall, she was willowy and graceful. A graceful cartoon character. She was so doll-like, the moment felt unreal. Her bald head was decorated with purple and gold strands of silk and glittering jewels, and her face looked more painted than made up. Her thin lips were painted turquoise and two red circles adorned her cheeks. It didn’t soften the sharpness of her face. Long earrings hung from ears that had more lobe than shell to them, nearly reaching her shoulders. Every time the woman moved, her long lobes swung gently to and fro, the jewels imbedded in the lobes catching the light. The glittering orange-and-turquoise earrings flowed over her narrow shoulders. Like the Zyrgins, she had no hair or brows and although there was no denying the woman was beautiful, Sarah kept thinking ‘creepy’.

  If she ever got out of this, she’d make sure the color of her lipstick never matched her dress. And turquoise would be banned from her closet and makeup kits for the rest of her natural life.

  If anyone had asked her, before she’d been betrayed by Srinisisa and somehow brought here, Sarah would’ve said it was graceful to glide, but the reality was spooky. The woman glided in a sinuous, downright disturbing walk and sat down in a chair with gold, purple, and blue upholstery. The arms of the chair were gilded and inlaid with jewels. The beautifully embroidered dress and elegant demeanor of the alien woman couldn’t hide the cruelty in those almost black eyes that stared at Sarah.

  Her heart contracted so painfully she had to resist the urge to clutch her chest. She wanted Zaar, wanted him there to deal with this woman reeking of evil and take Sarah away from this overdone birdhouse. She wanted his arms around her, his voice in her ears, telling her she would be safe.

  This time she’d fight to the death.

  “Who are you? Why did you kidnap me?” If she wasn’t safe on Zyrgin, where could she find a place where someone she trusted couldn’t grab her and sell her? She added before the
other woman could answer: “The Zyrgin will come for me.”

  Lips the same turquoise as the detail in her dress twisted into a parody of a smile. “Are you sure he will want you back afterward?”

  In the camps she’d hoped Charles would come for her. That hope had been crushed within weeks. Now she couldn’t allow this creepy woman to make her doubt that Zaar would come for her. Srinisisa wouldn’t rob her of that too.

  “How much did you give her to betray me?” Once again she’d been passed along like a sack of potatoes. Betrayed by someone close to her.

  “Oh, I didn’t have to pay her—she gave you to me for free.” The woman tittered.

  Sarah balled her fists.

  The woman lifted her bald head, her bearing regal. “To answer your earlier question, I am Coralinda, rightful queen of Aurelia. The queen that will put an end to The United Zyrgin Territories.” She smiled, a cold baring of teeth that twisted her face into a grotesque abstract painting. “But what you really want to know is how we kidnapped you right under the noses of those so-called superior warriors.” Sarah could see she wanted to brag about it. If she kept her talking, it would give Zaar time to come for her. Her heartbeat increased, hope surging through her.

  “Yes,” Sarah said.

  “Once Srinisisa drugged you, we put you in a basket with trade goods and flew you here.” She sneered, her turquoise-painted lips an ugly slash in her face. “None of those so-called superior warriors stopped us.”

  Sarah had been touched when Srinisisa brought the cloths to show her, had loved the fact that she shared her passion for sewing. Neither Sarah nor the warriors guarding her had considered that basket a threat.

  Such a simple plan: find a traitor, drug Sarah, and carry her out in a basket. Maybe that’s why the plan worked. Or maybe it worked because Srinisisa’s warrior helped her. Someone strong had to have carried that basket out. Her heart ached for them all. Zaar would never get over the betrayal of his warrior. Would he worry about her? Would he come and wreak havoc because of pride? Or because he cared for her?