The Alien Exile_Syrek_Clans of the Ennoi

by Delia Roan

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “No. It was just a ship. You are my home. Where you go, so do I.”

  They lingered for a moment, before Mara took his hand and led him on, toward his next opportunity.

  EPILOGUE

  EIGHT MONTHS LATER

  Syrek finished loading the last of the cargo crates from the Moon’s Pride. The freighter sat on a landing pad on R-333, surrounded by gently swaying trees. A cool breeze carried the scent of flowers to Syrek, and he inhaled the perfume, ignoring the reek of grease from the mech suit he wore.

  The Ennoi handlers picked up each crate and carried them into the warehouse to be distributed to local businesses once the contents had been processed. The sight of so many Ennoi made him shoot glances across the landing pad as he worked. They moved like tropical fish through the rich foliage around the space port.

  “That the last one?”

  Syrek looked up to see one of his new business partners striding out of the Moon’s Pride. Verdan Ar’Lhoris wiped the emerald and brown scales of his hands on a rag. His hair, like Syrek’s, was shorter than most Ennoi wore theirs, but, like Syrek, Verdan was growing his hair out so he could enter Ennoi society. Unlike Syrek’s hair, Verdan’s was beginning to show sliver strands.

  They had a lot in common, yet when Jrak had introduced them, they had been wary of each other. Over the past few months, they had built a working rapport, which meant Verdan did most of the heavy lifting, and Syrek did most of the negotiating.

  It turned out that running Haven had given Syrek the excellent ability to wrangle every last credit out of a client. With their increased income, Verdan intended to buy a second freighter for their shipping business. Syrek would captain the Moon’s Hope.

  Syrek nodded. “All done.”

  “Good.” Verdan wasn’t one for talking, and that suited Syrek just fine. “I’ll give you a ride into town.”

  After grabbing his bag from his room, Syrek found Verdan leaning against a boxy truck. The drive toward the coast took a while. The capital city, Umif, sat on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a brilliant blue ocean. Sea birds circled in the air, calling to each other, and Syrek saw the dorsal fin of a sea creature break the surf. Koedeer watched their vehicle pass with soft eyes as they chewed their cud.

  “Mara expecting you?” Verdan asked.

  “Three days from now,” Syrek replied. Visions of their reunion flashed through his mind. Pulling off her dress, throwing her onto their bed, and burying himself inside while she bit his shoulder. Easy boy. He forced away the vision. “Thought I would surprise her. What about Rebecca?”

  Verdan laughed. “I cannot keep anything from my wife, nor from my daughter. Farrah has been bothering me non-stop since we landed.”

  The Ennoi girl was a few years older than his own niece, though while Thedi had inherited Cyndrae’s stoicism, Farrah never stopped chatting. Rebecca sometimes accompanied them on the Moon’s Pride, since she was an equal partner in the business, but now that Syrek had joined the business, she was taking more on-planet leave to be with Farrah.

  Verdan dropped Syrek in front of his home. He pointed out the various vehicles parked in front of the building. “Looks like a meeting.”

  “Is that one Rebecca’s?”

  “Yup. Means I can have a bath in peace.”

  Syrek waved as Verdan drove off toward his own home. The cottage Syrek shared with Mara was surrounded by blooming trees. He stood in the shade, savoring the sensation of returning home after a long haul. Even before he opened the front door, he heard the chattering of many voices.

  Female voices.

  Speaking in human tongues.

  Syrek paused, his fingers on the handle.

  He should throw them all out. Tell them to begone. The king had returned to his castle, and he intended to make up for lost time with his queen. A burst of laughter from the house made him pause. Mara. He pictured the way she threw her head back when she laughed, or when she writhed in passion.

  By the moon, I want her.

  He removed his hand, and circled around the house, heading for the back patio. A view of the ocean spread out beyond the brick wall. No matter how many times he saw it, it still demanded his attention.

  Like Mara.

  As much as it killed him, he could wait to see her. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he was booked off for two weeks of shore leave at least. Patience was never his strong suit, but being here, in Umif, at their home, meant he had the luxury of time.

  As far as freedom went, this was a new kind. The knowledge of security. He did not need to impose on Mara and her friends. They would make him feel welcome, but right now, the interior of his home was their space. Some of the women inside had suffered for years under the Sykorians. Their need for female companionship outweighed his want for Mara.

  Mara would be there later, and tomorrow, and the day after that.

  I can be a benevolent king.

  He placed his bag on the tile beside the deck chair, and sprawled out, crossing his feet at the ankles. Closing his eyes, he let the warmth of the sun soak into his scales, and let the tension flow from his muscles. He woke to the sound of laughter, and the starting of vehicle engines.

  Bag in one hand, he opened the back door, and slipped inside. The house was cool, and he dropped his bag onto the wooden floor. He was halfway to the kitchen, when he felt as if someone watched him.

  On a chair in the living room sat a thin human woman. Her short-cropped dark hair floated in the breeze created by the fans in the ceiling. She wore a bright red dress, and she watched him with large blue eyes. Across her lap lay a large sheet of paper, and her hand was poised over it. The tips of her fingers were stained black.

  Syrek scrambled for a name. “Greetings… Corrine?”

  She slowly nodded.

  Syrek bowed. “I am sorry to intrude. I did not expect any visitors to be remaining.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Without a word, she stood and gathered up her papers. She returned his bow, before briskly heading to the door. She threw one last glance over her shoulder at him, then left the house.

  “Oh, Corrine! Leaving already?” Mara sounded surprised. Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. There was a pause, and Mara spoke. “Okay. I’ll come by the half-way house tomorrow. We can look over the illustrations then. Bye!”

  Another engine revved up, and Syrek returned to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of jukkad juice. Mara entered, her arms full of papers, and when she saw him, she shrieked. Papers drifted from her arms to the ground, only to be snatched up by the air currents from the fan.

  Documents flew in all directions, and with a gasp, Mara bent down to gather them up. Syrek hurried to her side. He dropped a quick kiss on her bare shoulder, and began helping her.

  “I didn’t hear you come in,” Mara said. She stood, and grinned at him.

  He picked up the last of the papers, and leaned over to place a lingering kiss on her lips. She licked her lips and gave a beatific smile. “Mmm, I missed you.”

  Her voice made his chest tight. “Where can I put this?”

  She gave him a wicked grin. “I have a few suggestions.”

  “The papers, Mara. The papers.”

  She laughed. “Come on. We can drop them off in my office.”

  As he laid the papers on her desk, a sketch caught his eye. It was of a woman’s face, rendered in charcoal. He pulled the sheet out, and studied her features, along with the markings below, which he assumed was letters. “What is this?”

  “Oh!” Mara grabbed the sheet from him. She tapped the paper. “This was Rebecca’s idea. We started writing down names. All the women she encountered during her years as a Sykorian slave. Everything she knew about them. Names, ages, where on Earth they were taken from. When. How. That’s what all this writing is. All the information we know. Like this girl, Debbie, she talked about her cat all the time.”

  “I see,”
Syrek said, trying to keep up. The nap on the patio had only served to remind him how exhausted he was. “And the image of her face?”

  “Then, Corrine started sketching them! Turns out, she’s an amazing artist. I mean, girl’s got skill.”

  Mara stared at the drawing in front of her.

  “And this helps, how?”

  “If we know how many women were taken, we might know how to stop it. I mean, Rebecca gave us a list of like dozens of women, and those are the names she knows and remembers. Then add the hundred sleepers on Haven…”

  Syrek frowned. “You’re saying there are many more kidnapped human women?”

  “Thousands! Going back decades! There’s a whole pattern!” Mara threw the paper onto the pile. “Which is why the halfway house is so important.”

  The halfway house had been Mara’s brainchild. When a hundred disoriented humans arrived on R-333 months ago, they had nowhere to go. So Mara had found them a building to rent using the proceeds from the sale of the PETL Cells. There, she had built a safe place for the women to find their feet. The halfway house was their stepping stone on the way to a new life.

  She had arranged for transportation for those women who were willing to return to Earth. For the rest, she found employment, therapy, and new hope. Her friend, Dannica, had dubbed her ‘Mama Mara,’ and the nickname stuck. Now, she cared for the human women trafficked by the Sykorians. Even Lady Jenna supported the initiative, donating resources to get the shelter up and running.

  Mara babbled for a while, talking about how they had painted a mural on a wall in the halfway house. “I mean, this place is gorgeous and tropical, so I figured we could do with some flowers on the walls. It’s like Australia, but without that annoying Slip Slop Slap campaign. I got the idea from you.”

  “From me?” Syrek could barely keep up with her.

  “For a wall of flowers. You know, the habitat wall.” She bit her lip. “I’m boring you.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Syrek confessed. “However, I could never be bored by you.”

  “Are you sure? I can stop talking.”

  He took her hand. “I am proud of you. I am proud of what you have achieved. For as long as you need to talk, I will listen.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks grew pink. She pursed her lips.

  “Do you have nothing to say now?” Syrek teased. He ran the tip of his tongue over her knuckles, and nearly purred when she shivered.

  “Just one thing,” Mara whispered.

  “Yes, Mara?”

  “I’m ready for you to touch me now.”

  [[####]]

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  When Delia Roan’s not daydreaming about other worlds, she bakes, paints and drinks more caffeine than is healthy. Delia and her own Avowed mate live in Canada, where they are outnumbered by children and pets.

  If you want to learn more about Delia’s work, email her at: delia@deliaroan.com

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