Into the Light: SciFi Alien Romance (Dark Planet Warriors Book 5)

by Anna Carven

  “Hang on.” That niggling feeling grows and my inner sense of suspicion flares to life. “What forms are these?”

  “Oh, they’re just generic treatment and admission forms,” Lorelei says. “All of our patients sign them. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  Nothing to worry about, my ass. My Aunt Kenna’s voice echoes in the back of my mind.

  Always read the small print, Abbey girl. Don’t ever trust the bastards.

  My dear aunt is old-school. She’s not a big fan of technology.

  Tarak leans in, scanning the information presented to us. He moves his chair closer to me, ignoring the doctor. “What is the meaning of this, amina? More Human bureaucratic nonsense?”

  “Hang on.” I scan through the legalese, trying to interpret it. Even though he speaks perfect Universal, this will all probably go over Tarak’s head. He’s the blunt and straightforward type, and Earth legal-speak is another language unto itself. We Humans have a talent for making things unnecessarily complicated.

  Tarak thinks it’s ridiculous that Humans place so much importance in legal documents.

  One line in particular stands out. I scroll down and freeze the text. “What does this mean, exactly?”

  It reads: for research and training purposes, all medical data and retrieved genetic material will be de-identified and become the property of SynCorp Universal.

  For the first time, Lorelei looks uncomfortable. “Uh, that’s just a standard clause. All consent forms have it.”

  “SynCorp?” I raise an eyebrow, trying to appear composed. But deep down, the name SynCorp fills me with dread. The huge biotech conglomerate is the company my father used to work for.

  They all said my father’s death was an accident, but to this day, Aunt Kenna and I have our suspicions. He was killed shortly after blowing the whistle on some unethical practices, concerned that they’d gone too far with their experiments on Humans.

  There is no way in hell I’m trusting anything owned by SynCorp. I had no idea this place was run by them. An uncomfortable feeling courses through me. I don’t like the fact that they’ve already gotten ahold of some of my medical information.

  “This is a SynCorp owned hospital.” Lorelei glances at her link-band impatiently. “We really need to get a move on. Because you were late, we’re running out of time.”

  Tarak is scrutinizing the text. “I do not like this.”

  I’m starting to think his paranoia isn’t so misplaced. Damn. Just when I was extolling the virtues of Human medicine and telling him how reasonable we Humans are, they had to go and screw it up with the fine print.

  Silently, I curse myself for being naive.

  “I’m not too sure about this,” I say, glancing at Tarak. “That clause is quite open to interpretation, and there’s only so much you can de-identify an hybrid pregnancy. Everyone who comes across that data is going to know who it belongs to.”

  “It’s a standard clause.” Lorelei taps a painted fingernail on the desk impatiently. “Unfortunately, if you don’t sign the consent, we can’t proceed with your medical care. And as far as I know, we are the only nonhuman specialist center equipped to deal with a human-nonhuman hybrid pregnancy.” Her tone has changed completely, becoming hard.

  I stare at her in disbelief. Is she trying to blackmail me right now?

  You can’t be freaking serious, lady. What’s so important about my genetic material that they’re so desperate to hold onto that information?

  Alarm bells are going off in my head. Something doesn’t feel right.

  Beside me, Tarak has gone still. I can almost feel the menace radiating from him. “You presume too much, Human. I will not deal with a service that is not transparent.”

  “Abbey needs antenatal care,” Lorelei argues. “You’re not going to get that anywhere else.”

  Sensing Tarak’s mood, I shake my head slowly. Mister grumpy pants has been disgruntled ever since we set foot in the hospital complex. The good doctor is not going to win an argument with my Kordolian General.

  She just isn’t. Not in a million light-years. I know him too well.

  With my eyes, I try to implore her to shut the fuck up.

  As much as I hate to admit I was wrong, I’m with Tarak on this one. And as much as I want to do the right thing; as much as I want my pregnancy to feel like a normal Human pregnancy, I don’t like hidden clauses and I don’t like shady corporations.

  Especially when it’s SynCorp that’s behind all this.

  When I was up in space trying to survive the clutches of psychopathic Kordolians, Earth seemed like freaking paradise. Now that I’m back down here, I’m starting to remember that my own people can be just as bad, minus the fangs and freaky technology.

  Humans can be awesome, but they can also be assholes.

  Just like every other damn species in the Universe.

  The doctor tries a different angle. “Look,” she says, sounding apologetic as she spreads her hands wide. “I’m trying to help you here, but if you want to be treated at this hospital, you need to follow protocol.”

  “Enough.” Tarak stands, holding out a hand to me. “I see no value in continuing with this nonsense. Come, amina. We are leaving. I will order Zyara to Earth and she will monitor your condition.”

  “I’d advise you to re-consider, General Akkadian.” Lorelei stands, offering a cold attempt a a placating smile.

  It’s a mirthless grin, stretching her flawless face into a perfect mask.

  Tarak looks at her threateningly but doesn’t bother with a reply. “Come, Abbey. Let us go.”

  I remain in my seat for a moment, allowing the uncomfortable silence to stretch between us. I study the doctor, taking in her structured white dress, which looks like something out of a high fashion show, and her perfectly made-up face. She’s an ice-queen, cold and unrelenting and not at all what I would have expected a doctor to be like.

  Tarak stands across from her, his crimson eyes hidden behind those rather fashionable frameless sunglasses. He appears just as cold, his jaw set in a hard line, his lips curved into a slight frown. Despite his scary exterior, I get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when I look at him, especially when he glowers threateningly on my behalf.

  All I wanted when I got back to Earth was a little bit of Human familiarity. I wanted to be in control and do things the Earth way. But suddenly, it feels as if everyone wants a piece of me. And now, I’m faced with a choice.

  Tarak’s hand is extended expectantly. There’s only one outcome he’ll accept.

  The answer is pretty obvious.

  I look back and forth between them, pouting a little bit. Little Monster wriggles inside me, as if trying to comfort me. “It’s my body,” I say quietly, after a drawn-out silence. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be a source of data for anyone, and neither is my baby.”

  I stand, placing my hand in Tarak’s palm. His silver-grey hand dwarfs mine, but his fingers are warm as he curls them around my hand.

  Lorelei manages to look offended. “We’re not bad people, Abbey. Any data we collect is for the advancement of science.”

  Did I mention I’ve had an irrational fear of science experiments ever since some evil Kordolians tried to turn me into a Human guinea pig?

  I shudder. I’m not going through that again.

  “I think I’ll take my chances without signing my soul away, thank you very much.”

  I’m pregnant, and I’m going to have a baby. The only difference is that my Little Monster is half Kordolian. Nature’s taken us this far already; I just have to trust my body, trust the Kordolians and let nature do the rest.

  Really, how hard can it be?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tarak

  She is not happy.

  I sit beside her, observing her. The corners of her mouth are turned down and she stares out of the window, watching the empty streets as we travel back to the diplomatic house.

  She looks tired.

  The visit to the hospital
has upset her. Inwardly, I curse the Human doctor called Asher and her deceptive promises. She reminded me a little of that spineless Kordolian medic called Mirkel. She had the same haughty, self-righteous demeanor.

  I will not entrust the care of my precious mate to such Humans. I know ulterior motives when I see them.

  I will send for Zyara. My soldiers onboard Silence can survive without her until the Fleet Station medics arrive. They are no longer engaged in active combat, and there are several sub-medics who can attend to non-urgent complaints.

  I curse myself for not being more vigilant. I should have made arrangements much sooner. But Abbey had told me she was fine; she had reassured me she was in good health and would handle things on Earth.

  I curse the Imperial Kordolians and the infernal Humans for drawing my attention away from my mate, forcing me to spend time attending to my duties onboard Silence when I should have been by her side.

  I feel as if I should say something, but I don’t know what to say. Comforting others isn’t one of my strengths. So instead, I rest my hand on her thigh.

  Her shoulders are slumped. A sigh escapes her.

  The awkward vehicle the Humans refer to as a bot-car turns a corner and returns us to our residence. The sun’s position in the sky has moved, and the trees surrounding the house throw shadows across the ground. A light breeze carries a hint of salt, tugging at her hair as we walk across the carefully manicured gardens.

  Compared to what I’m used to, this planet is mild and temperate. Humans have been living in a paradise for millennia without realizing their good fortune.

  It is why they are soft and complacent.

  It is why their planet can be so easily threatened. Earth is ripe for the picking. If they truly knew of war and oppression and had encountered disasters that threatened to drag their civilization to the brink of extinction, they would have defended their home a little better.

  Now it is my home. My planet.

  I have found my mate, and I have discovered a reality I never would have thought possible.

  In this lifetime, I have the opportunity to extend my line.

  I put an arm around her shoulders and guide her down a linear path that leads to the back. There’s a small garden there, surrounded on all sides by green vegetation. Flat paving stones are arranged in the centre, and to one side there is some sort of basic seating.

  I guide her to the seat and sit down, bringing her onto my lap. At first she’s reluctant, but eventually she yields to my gentle pressure. She’s uncharacteristically silent.

  I do not understand her.

  She is Human, and Humans think differently to us. Small things I consider insignificant end up being of great importance to her. Emotions play a central role in her decision making. I’m not sure I will ever understand her completely, but I can at least try.

  I put my hand against her cheek, turning her face to make her look at me. “Why are you so insistent on having a Human medic, my love?” I can’t see how involving Humans would be of particular value. Their medical technology, like everything else Human, isn’t exactly cutting edge.

  She leans back into me, staring up at the sky. White fragments of condensed vapor called clouds float by, drifting across the blue background.

  I’ve never been one to appreciate aesthetics, but Earth is slowly revealing itself to be a place of rare beauty.

  Abbey turns to look at me. “You know, I always thought I’d work on that shitty space station for a few years before coming back to Earth. Never in a million light years could I have imagined you would come crashing into my life.”

  I wait, not sure where she is going with this.

  “Becoming pregnant was something I’d never even had time to consider, but look at me now. It’s happened so fast.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but she presses her finger against my lips, silencing me. She’s the only being in the entire Universe who would dare to do such a thing.

  “Look at you, with that scary expression. I haven’t finished yet. It’s not that I’m unhappy. Quite the opposite. I’m overjoyed, and I can’t wait to meet our little one. I guess I’m just a little freaked out, that’s all. Maybe going to the hospital for my antenatal care was just me trying to do something normal; something grounded. Because on Earth, that’s what normal Human women do when they get pregnant. They visit the obstetrician, and they talk about this stuff with other women. I guess that’s what I’d always envisioned for my first pregnancy.” She stares at me with her green-and-brown flecked eyes, which are wide and clear. She is entirely without guile. “There’s a part of me that’s overwhelmed. There’s a little voice in the back of my head that asks me if I’m really ready for all this.”

  It is uncharacteristic of her to be uncertain like this. Her honesty completely disarms me.

  Admitting to one’s weakness is so very un-Kordolian.

  “You are afraid?” I bring my arms around her, feeling her warmth through the luxurious fabric of her kashkan. It suits her so well. I am pleased with my choice.

  “Not afraid. I’m excited as hell, but at the same time, the enormity of the situation sometimes gets to me.”

  “You shouldn’t ever feel afraid when you’re with me.” As I inhale her unique fragrance, I catch a flicker of movement in the corner of my vision.

  There’s something in the trees.

  Abbey frowns. “I know. It’s stupid for me to feel this way. I’m just having a moment of self-doubt. It happens to all of us from time to time.” She gives me a strange look. “At least with Humans, it does. I’ll get over it.” She studies me with undisguised fascination, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Why, General, are you consoling me right now?”

  She sounds amused. That is her armor, sliding back into place.

  “I do not console,” I grumble, and for some reason she laughs. I don’t know why she finds my reactions amusing, but at least she is smiling.

  At the edge of my vision, there’s a flash of light, and again, I catch a flicker of movement. I take Abbey’s hands and gently pull her to the side as I stand, peering at the trees.

  Even when I’m wearing these dark glasses, my daylight vision isn’t so good. The sharpness and detail I see at night just isn’t there. The light of the infernal sun turns everything hazy.

  But my hearing is still sharp, much sharper than a Human’s.

  “What is it, Tarak?” Abbey’s soft voice reaches me. I hold up a hand, demanding silence.

  There is a soft breeze. Leaves flutter. In the distance, some Earth creature vocalizes, emitting a strange, high-pitched twittering sound.

  Then, I hear it. A mechanical click.

  Localizing the sound, I stalk towards it. I jump and pluck something from the air.

  I open my palm to reveal small and metallic; a Human surveillance machine. Fucking Humans. They keep trying to spy on us with these tiny pest-like devices. When we first arrived on Earth, the Humans would gather at the front of the house, trying to capture footage of us. More than once I confronted them, but they weren’t easy to deter.

  I still don’t understand the reason for their obsession with us. Why can’t they just mind their own Kaiin-cursed business?

  The device has a tiny blinking red light. There is a dark, flat lens that zooms back and forth, trying to focus. It has small propellers attached to the sides, allowing it to fly.

  Humans have an insatiable need to know everything. Even useless, insignificant details can be turned into objects of fascination in their easily influenced minds

  They have this strange thing called a ‘free press’. Apparently, any citizen can collect information and share it with the masses.

  Abbey stands, coming to my side. She looks at the machine in my hand. “A drone-cam,” she sighs. “It’s still recording.”

  How did I allow this insidious device to slip past my guard?

  I stare at the lens, wishing I could lay a hand on the ones behind it. “Cease your monitoring of us,” I say softly. “Th
is is your first and final warning. Otherwise, I will look for you, and trust me, you do not want me to find you.”

  There is a small, metal switch on the side of the device. I flick it off, and the red light disappears. I drop the drone-cam into my pocket. My tech engineers will be able to take it apart and analyze it; perhaps they will be able to localize its source.

  If they find whoever is responsible, I will be paying them a rather unpleasant visit.

  Abbey looks at me with a resigned expression on her face. I do not like that expression. “They’ll try to follow us wherever we go,” she murmurs. “Whether it’s Federation Intelligence or the media, we’ll always have someone trying to monitor us. It’s just the way Earth is.”

  “They won’t,” I assure her. “Leave it to me.” I will do my utmost to shield her from any threat. It doesn’t matter whether the threat is from the vindictive Kordolian Empire and that cursed bitch Empress Vionn, or the idiotic, deceptive Humans, with their spy technology and confounding bureaucratic legal nonsense.

  A thought occurs to me. “My amina, you seem to be quite alone. Do you not have a clan on Earth? Do you not have a House of your own?”

  By House, I’m referring not to a dwelling, but to a family; a bloodline.

  She shrugs. “I’m an only child, and my parents are gone.” She is trying to appear unaffected but there is sadness in her voice. I curse myself for not thinking of such things earlier.

  “Your parents?”

  “Mother died of an illness. Dad was killed in a landflyer accident.”

  Not knowing what to say, I place a hand on her cheek, and we share a moment of silence as I look into her complicated eyes. “You are isolated amongst your own people,” I say eventually.

  “I have friends here and there. I have an aunt I get along with. But I guess you’re right. I’ve become a stranger on my own planet.” A slightly pained look crosses her face. “Earth is different to how I remember it. Maybe it’s just because we’re on Nova Terra, but everything feels detached. It doesn’t feel like home.”