by Anna Carven
All because she was worried about me.
Never before has any individual, let alone a Human, stood up to protect me like that.
That simple action warmed my black heart in the strangest of ways.
And now she sits beside me, pregnant with my child. I never imagined that I would have the opportunity to extend my bloodline in this lifetime.
Kordolian males who enter the military expect to die in the service of the military. There is no talk of mating and procreation.
In this era, that is a privilege reserved almost exclusively for the Nobles, who wish to keep their Kordolian bloodlines pure.
I snort softly. Their notion of racial purity is becoming more and more ridiculous. They will be wiped out within a generation.
I place my other hand on her belly and find my child stirring. The movement is reassuring. Sometimes, if it is silent and I focus, I can hear their twin heartbeats.
Mother’s is slow and steady, a reassuring background rhythm for baby’s rapid fluttering heartbeat.
“What’s on your mind, Tarak?”
“You,” I reply, watching her as our car turns into the entrance of the skyport. In typical Human fashion, the place is lit up like a blazing starfield. If Humans had a choice, they would probably choose to live in constant daylight.
Kordolians prefer constant darkness.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Perhaps,” I murmur, as the car navigates past a stream of foot-traffic. Even though night has fallen, the skyport is busy, with Humans swarming everywhere. We enter a line of bot-cars similar to own, heading towards a drop-off bay. The cars are all the same make and model, and they are are all painted in the same color; white.
There’s a certain uniformity to things in this place. If I dwelt here for longer, I might think it strange.
Abbey hits me with another playful punch. “Enough with the dark, mysterious thoughts already. I swear, you’re the King of Being Cryptic.”
“One’s motives must always be concealed,” I say half-seriously, reciting a fundamental lesson from military school. “Leave your enemies guessing and your allies slightly insecure.”
“So does that make me an enemy or an ally, General Akkadian?”
“You’re neither of those. You are my mate. Do you understand?” I stroke her face gently as the car rolls to a stop. I place my fingers on her chin, turning her face towards me.
“Departure point reached. Please exit the vehicle.” The bot-car’s automated voice system echoes in the background. I ignore it, focusing on her shimmering, speckled eyes.
They remind me of the glowing halo that’s left behind after a star explodes.
“I’m starting to understand,” she says softly.
“You are more valuable to me than any alliance, and you have the potential to be more dangerous than any enemy,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen. “Dangerous? To you? No way, lover.”
“Believe me,” I assure her. “You are both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness.” Even I don’t know what I would do, if anything were to happen to her.
I am only Kordolian, after all.
I take her hand, guiding her out of the car. Her face is slightly flushed, and her expression is one of mild disbelief.
“Come.” She steps out after me, protectively holding her belly with one hand. A porter-bot arrives at our side, and I load our belongings onto it. “You have waited so patiently for me in this lifeless place.”
She shakes her head. “I completely understand why we had to stay here. You had to fight off the evil Kordolians, and at the same time, the Federation wasn’t comfortable with you guys staying outside the Diplomatic Zone.”
“Yes, but now the treaty is almost finalized, and I believe we have more than adequately demonstrated our intentions, so they have relaxed their restrictions on us.” My tone is scornful. Do they think they can truly restrict me from doing anything I want? I am merely co-operating because of her, because I do not want my mate to be ostracized by her own people, and because I swore to myself that I would try to do things more diplomatically.
I owe it to Abbey, to my unborn child, and to the oppressed Kordolians who will eventually make their way to Earth to begin a new life.
I am soon to be a father, and a child should not have a father who is a warmonger.
Abbey smiles.
Even when I don’t tell her much, my mate understands.
“You’re all mine now,” she says as we walk through the crowds, the porter-bot trailing behind us. “You need to stay with me until I pop this little one out. No more skirmishes in space, no more military stuff, no more random trips to Silence. You’re staying right here, buddy.”
“Everything has been taken care of.” I glare at an elderly Human woman who is staring at us as if we’re a pair of newly hatched Xargek spawn. She quickly looks away as my eyes meet hers.
Humans are not yet developed enough to understand universal etiquette.
It’s considered offensive to stare.
“Good. Then let’s go to Teluria,” she says, dragging me through the crowd. She is much better at dodging people than I am. Then she stops, staring up at me in confusion. “Tarak,” she says slowly. “If you’re taking me there in a Kordolian flyer, then why are we at the skyport?”
“This is where we will board,” I gesture for her to follow me. There’s no point wasting time explaining things. It’s better if she sees for herself.
Abbey
When your other half is a Kordolian General who is used to being obeyed and not questioned, little things sometimes get lost in translation.
Such as, why are we at the second busiest skyport in the Southern Hemisphere?
Does he expect to land his stealth flyer here?
Urgh. So many things aren’t making sense right now.
We pass through the cavernous departures hall. It’s a giant dome-shaped structure with a transparent roof. The full moon glows above us, partly obscured by drifting clouds.
Tarak leads me towards a plain door at the back of the departures hall, hovering around me protectively and rewarding anyone who dares to look curiously in our direction with a death-glare.
“Seems like you know your way around,” I remark suspiciously as he presses his palm against a bioscanner. The doors slide open, recognizing his biological signature. “What the hell? They’ve given you clearance?”
“I have made my presence known,” he says nonchalantly. Behind us, the porter-bot whirrs as it transports our bags. Well, my bag. Tarak’s luggage is a small black metal case.
And I thought I traveled light.
“Oy, General!” A man in a grey uniform appears, striding towards us. He seems to recognize Tarak. “You’re early.”
I look back and forth between them, still confused. The man holds out a weathered hand to me as he approaches. He has sandy blond hair and skin that’s seen a little too much time in the sun. “You must be the missus. I’m Jack Franklin, the Skyboss here. Your lad and his boys have been very helpful to us over the last couple of weeks.”
His speech, an odd combination of Universal and English, has a distinct Old World twang. I suppress the inappropriate laugh that threatens to escape me. Something about him referring to Tarak as a ‘lad’ seems faintly ridiculous.
“Ta-rak,” I say slowly, narrowing my eyes and glaring at my mate as I shake Jack’s hand. “What have you been up to?”
Tarak’s expression is unreadable. Jack grins in a boyish way. “We’ve had a bit of a problem with smugglers over the past few months. They’ve been bringing in drugs and controlled technologies and whatnot. The General here alerted us to the problem, singlehandedly caught a crew of disguised genetic smugglers and generously offered a few of his soldiers to help enforce the law. The technology these guys have for detecting narcotics vapors, weapons traces and occult radiation is second to none.” Jack shakes his head, a conspiratorial grin crossing his features. “The Universal Ports Authority gav
e us a shit of a time when we were trying to get these boys in, but they’ve been invaluable to us ever since. I don’t know how they do it, but they’re like wolfhounds when it comes to sniffing out the riffraff and contraband. These Kordolians are something else.”
Tell me about it.
“Human technology isn’t sensitive enough to detect molecular implants on an Ephrenian hauler,” Tarak says, as if that explains anything. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “And before we came, they hadn’t implemented any screening for sub-viruses or radiation nodes.”
“O-okay.” I don’t know what any of those are, but I’m strangely relieved. Despite what he’d told Xal, Tarak wasn’t going to just force his stealth flyer to land at the skyport. He’d thought ahead and actually made an arrangement with the Skyboss.
“They’ve also been having problems with Ifkin slave traders entering Earth illegally using sophisticated cloaking methods,” he adds quietly. “Humans don’t have a chance of catching them, but Kordolians do. We’ve been hunting the Ifkin for a long time.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Those harmless looking four-armed pale guys who have eyes in the backs of their heads? You think those little guys are a threat?”
“Ifkin are far from harmless,” Tarak growls. “They worship chaos. Don’t ever underestimate an Ifkin, Abbey. They would slit your throat in broad daylight for the promise of a few credits.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say dubiously. I don’t particularly have plans to hang out with the Ifkin anytime soon.
We make our way down a long corridor that branches off into a private lounge filled with the smell of freshly roasting coffee. Human security guards stand in the corners, plugged into their interfaces, watching us warily. Beyond the glass walls is the landing zone of the skyport. An endless network of runways stretches off into the distance, lit up with an array of tiny green lights. Several multi-tiered platforms provide alternative landing sites for different kinds of space and intra-atmospheric craft.
“In three sivs or five of your Earth minutes, my stealth flyer Darkshadow will be here,” Tarak murmurs, putting a reassuring arm around my shoulders. “Everything has been arranged, amina. Do not worry.”
I’m a bit overwhelmed and speechless right now. It seems that while I’ve been busy being pregnant and stuffing my face with ramen and muffins, Tarak’s been hard at work setting up strategic relationships with certain Humans.
Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve lost control of everything and landed in some alternate version of Earth-reality? I’m so not used to feeling this way.
I used to be so in control of my own little world, which was confined to a small bio-dome on Fortuna Tau.
We walk down to the exit of the terminal, which I’m surprised to see is guarded by two armored Kordolian soldiers. They see Tarak and greet him with a silent fist-on-chest salute. With their movement-enhancing black combat suits and twin plasma guns, they appear dark and menacing, standing perfectly still as we pass. Beyond the security point, Human skyport workers zoom across the landing zone in small hover-vehicles called darts, and signal-bots shine their guide-lights up and down the runway.
It’s a highly guarded hive of activity that Tarak has somehow managed to infiltrate with Kordolian soldiers.
Is it disturbing that Tarak has oh-so conveniently placed his men in one of the most strategic locations on Earth?
On paper, it looks that way. If I didn’t know him, I might think so.
As we walk across the tarmac, a brisk wind laced with a hint of salt greets us from the north, reminding me that in the darkness beyond lies the Pacific Ocean. Jack has been trailing behind us. He gives Tarak an odd salute as we reach our spot.
“I’ll be off then, buddy.” He nods in my direction, taking in my obviously pregnant state. “Best of luck with everything, ma’am.”
“Uh, thanks, Jack.” The Skyboss whistles, signaling one of his workers who zooms over on a dart. He steps onto the hovering platform and they glide away, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the landing zone.
As the wind tugs at my long hair, I become aware of a strange sound.
Correction; it’s more like an absence of sound.
It’s coming from the north. I look up to the sky. The stars seem to shimmer a little more than usual, but that’s all. The sound-less sound becomes more intense, like a giant vacuum that pulls noise away.
The rush of the wind disappears and the mechanical background noise of engines and motors ceases. There’s a sensation like pressure, and I suddenly feel as if I’m being hemmed in on all sides by some unseen force.
I’m overcome with nausea.
I hold my stomach, resisting the urge to throw up. Little Monster is there with me, tumbling about like she always does. Tarak puts his hands on my shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Abbey?” His voice is laced with concern.
“I feel sick,” I complain. It isn’t morning sickness; that’s long gone. This is different. It’s the kind of nausea you get after a messy atmospheric entry. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
He pulls me against him, holding me tight. “Sorry. This is my fault.”
“You can’t hold yourself responsible for every little-” I gag as the sensation grows stronger.
The stars above look the same, but different. Sound has disappeared, sucked away into some invisible, noiseless vortex. There’s a weird pressure in my head. My heart pounds and my baby kicks. I clutch my belly, as if that can somehow protect her. I hope she’s not feeling the same way.
As the sensation grows, the landing platforms in the distance blur for just a split second, before snapping back into place. It was so fast I could have missed it, like a momentary rip in the space-time continuum.
And the lack of sound is so obvious now, so oppressive.
Tarak is unaffected. He holds me tighter, caressing my belly, putting his lips on my ear. I think he’s murmuring something to me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.
And then, the stars and buildings start to peel away.
Am I losing my mind?
An image starts to form in front of us. It’s faint at first, but it quickly starts to come together, forming an outline. As it solidifies, the horrible nauseous sensation starts to disappear.
“The cloaking technology can sometimes have this effect,” Tarak says, as sound returns to my ears.
All of a sudden, the pressure’s gone, and there’s a Kordolian stealth flyer in front of us.
It’s surprisingly big, about three times the size of a Human flyer, and its body is made entirely from that impenetrable black metal the Kordolians call Callidum.
It’s sleek and menacing and looks as if it’s been built for absolute speed and silence. It’s like a mini version of their warship Silence, which floats in Earth’s orbit carrying a devastating arsenal of fission missiles.
“Nice ride,” I say weakly, as my poor tummy recovers.
“You won’t feel the effects once we’re inside,” Tarak reassures me. “The cabin is insulated.”
“Good. Because that was freaking awful.”
“Hm.” He’s still holding me tight, but he’s looking back over his shoulder, distracted by something.
He did apologize, though. He’s getting better at that.
As a door opens in the stealth flyer, a ramp extending from it, Tarak continues to stare at the terminal building.
“What is it?”
He remains silent, as infuriatingly cryptic as always.
Two black-uniformed soldiers exit the flyer, saluting their General as he turns to greet them. He issues orders in Kordolian and they rush to my side, picking up my belongings from the porter-bot.
“Go inside,” Tarak tells me. “I need to check on something. I’ll be back.”
The stern-faced soldiers give me a little bow and wait expectantly for me to follow.
The opening of the ship is a black, gaping maw, revealing only darkness beyond. Like all things Kordoli
an, it appears sinister and alien. If I had to sum up the Kordolian aesthetic in a few words, I’d call it ‘Evil Empire chic’.
I glance back at Tarak. A predatory look crosses his features, his dark red eyes narrowing.
What the hell is my big silver alien up to?
Reluctantly, I make my way onto the stealth flyer, which he called Darkshadow. “Don’t do anything excessive,” I warn, even though I still have no idea what’s caught his attention.
I don’t like the look on his face. I know him well enough by now to know when he’s thinking no-good thoughts, such as contemplating how to hurt someone, or something.
Tarak gives me a little I-know-what-I’m-doing raise of his eyebrow before turning and striding back across the tarmac.
With an aggravated sigh, I turn and make my way up the ramp.
Urgh. Men. Generals. Kordolians.
When we get to the Oceanic Republic, there will be no more surprises, because that’s my home turf. Besides, we’ll be staying out of town on a property where there’s the bare minimum of technology.
I can’t imagine what could possibly go wrong out there.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tarak
As Darkshadow lands, something catches my attention.
My eye is drawn to an irregularity on the roof of the terminal. I stare at the glass-domed roof as Abbey looks at me questioningly.
She is ever-curious, but I can’t reveal my suspicions to her.
I don’t want her to worry unnecessarily.
I order my troops to take her inside the flyer as I head back towards the terminal. A strange sensation prickles at the back of my neck. My battle-sense tells me we’re being watched.
I do not like this.
If I’m right and someone is watching us, they would have seen me turn back. If they are clever, they will be attempting to leave the scene right now.
If I were an ordinary soldier, they would have a good chance of escaping unnoticed.
Too bad for them, I’m anything but ordinary.
As I pass inside, the two Kordolian Third Division guards stationed at the entrance look at me, anticipating my command.
