Brida Pact

by Leora Gonzales

  As the president stepped back from the podium, Pixie and Poppy both leaned back in their seats. Poppy glanced over at Pixie.

  “They can cure AIDS? And cancer?”

  “Pops, that’s amazing. Think of it…these aliens could literally save millions of people.” Pixie sounded as excited as Poppy felt.

  Both girls had some friends and family members who’d been able to overcome cancer but a few of them had succumbed to the disease eating at their bodies. A few years ago their last surviving aunt had passed away after multiple rounds of treatment for breast cancer. Both of the girls had felt the blow as if it were their own mother. Aunt Tilly had been their last link to their parents and had resembled their mother so much they’d felt as though they were losing more than their aunt.

  “And don’t forget the energy crisis,” Brian mumbled around a full mouth. “I wonder if that means we wouldn’t need to rely on foreign oil?”

  “Hmmmm…” Pixie looked as if she’d wondered that herself. “Hey, he said we were negotiating… What do we have that they need? If they have all this technology, what does Earth have?”

  Thinking back to her nutball neighbor, Poppy blurted out, “I can safely say that Florida has an abundant amount of idiots we can send them.”

  “Well, it doesn’t appear like he’s going to say anything else tonight. Let’s put on a movie. What are you in the mood for?”

  “I vote for comedy,” Poppy piped up.

  Brian shrugged, indicating he couldn’t care less what was chosen.

  The three of them settled on the couch and relaxed as much as they could. All of them had vetoed anything with aliens or zombies since that hit a little too close to home right now, even if it was done jokingly. Making popcorn and relaxing with Pixie turned out to be exactly what Poppy needed. Since this was a movie they’d seen before, the girls talked throughout, which annoyed Brian.

  “Hey, fussypants, why don’t you go to bed and get some more sleep? You’re really grumpy tonight.” Pixie patted Brian on the shoulder.

  He shrugged. “Well, since you two won’t stop yapping for me to hear, that’s probably a good idea.” Laughing when Pixie swatted his butt as he stood up, he nodded a good night to Poppy.

  After he left, Pixie reached for the remote and turned down the volume. Twisting sideways on the couch, she stared at her sister.

  “How was your trip to the store?” Leaning on an elbow, she mimicked Poppy’s pose.

  “How do you think any trip to hell would be? The torture started in the parking lot and lasted through the checkout line.” She smiled and tapped her chin with her fingers. “I did see a couple hotties though.”

  “Were they stockpiling like everyone else?” Pixie reached down for her soda and took a large gulp, waiting for Poppy to answer.

  “I don’t think so, they didn’t have carts or anything and just seemed to be watching the chaos unfold around the frozen food section.” Grinning, she waggled her eyebrows. “I think maybe their tour bus must have stopped there, because they were wearing leather pants and all had long hair. Super. Hot.”

  Laughing at Poppy’s version of an eyebrow wiggle, Pixie set her now empty can back down. “I don’t think there are any concerts around here. They were probably just passing through.” Pixie stretched back and reached her arms over her head with a groan. “I don’t know about you, Pops, but I’m beat. I haven’t been sleeping for shit this past week. Is it okay if I hit the sack?”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll head to bed soon too. I’ve had trouble sleeping myself. You going in to work tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I have to finish some paperwork, but then I should be able to head out early. ’Night.”

  Once alone, Poppy wandered over to the living room window and peeked through the blinds. Yep, the aliens were still there. What could they possibly want from Earth?

  Chapter Four

  The next morning Poppy woke up after having slept fairly decently. Tossing on a pair of her ever-present yoga pants and a T-shirt, she thought she’d take a walk in the neighborhood. Being cooped up this last week had not agreed with her and she needed fresh air. The first thing she saw outside was a ship floating above. Having watched the news all week long, Poppy knew that the ships had not actually done anything other than hover above the cities. It was time to get back to her normal life. Who knew how long this would last, and Poppy had things to do and people to see. Patting her pocket to make sure she had her phone, she walked down the driveway and started along the sidewalk.

  After walking around the subdivision for about thirty minutes, she felt the skin on her arms tingle. Pausing to peer around, she didn’t see anyone but felt that maybe she should turn around to head back to the house. As she did so, she caught sight of an idling car at the stop sign. It was what she would normally refer to as an “FBI-mobile”. The large black SUV had completely blacked-out windows and after Poppy stared at it for a couple of moments, it moved down the street at a slow crawl.

  That was weird.

  Poppy checked the mail before going into the house. It was amazing that they had been delivering all week long. The USPS delivers—rain, shine and even during alien invasions. Giggling, she pictured that motto on their badges. Tossing the letters onto the counter for Brian and Pixie to go through, she sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. Since every channel seemed to be showing news twenty-four hours a day, she thought she’d watch it for a little bit before giving up and tuning into cable.

  Seeing a red banner pop up on TV caused Poppy to reach for the remote and turn the sound up.

  “The president has called an emergency press conference, please stay tuned.”

  Hearing the door lock click, Poppy glanced over to see who it was.

  Pixie dropped her bag on the floor and flopped down on the couch next to Poppy.

  “What’s going on? I heard the emergency broadcast noise in my car and had to turn off the radio before my ears started bleeding.”

  “I don’t know yet. Apparently the president’s called an emergency broadcast.”

  Both women hushed as the president walked onto the screen to take his place at the podium.

  “My fellow Americans, negotiations have concluded with the Phaeton Warrior race. After speaking to their council of leaders, we have learned that the Phaeton race has been surviving by using cloning. Unfortunately the science that they have used has resulted in a low female birth rate. For their species to survive, they have been searching on other planets for potential mates.

  “The State Department has decided to initiate a ‘mate match’ for single female volunteers to apply for what we are referring to as the ‘Bridal Pact’. In exchange for these volunteers, we will be able to use the Phaetons’ medical advancements to save American lives. We will have access to a new fuel source that will all but eliminate our need for oil, both foreign and domestic. And we will also have the protection of their military from other species that may discover Earth.

  “This is not a draft. It is completely voluntary. Women who apply will be compensated for filling out an application and signing the contract. We want to assure you that your safety and the safety of your sisters, daughters and friends will be our number-one concern. We are working on a profiling system with national dating sites and the Phaeton Council to make matches, similar to what many of you have used in the past to find companions. As of right now this is only open to women who fall within certain criteria but might be expanded after an initial trial period passes.

  “Please keep an open mind and know that the safety of our citizens and country is our top priority. Women wishing to volunteer or obtain more information can contact their local Intake Centers, which will be listed by state following this news conference or found at bridal-pact-dot-state-department-dot-gov. This is an exciting time for our country and its people.”

  Poppy and Pixie were totally silent for about two seconds after the speech ended. Almost in unison they turned toward each other with their mouths open.

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p; “Holy fuck,” Poppy whispered, unable to believe what she’d had heard.

  “Yeah. Holy fuck,” Pixie couldn’t help but repeat after her sister.

  “They want women!” Poppy was still having trouble wrapping her mind around it.

  They both jumped with a startled scream when the front door opened and Brian ran in.

  “Did I miss it?” he panted out between breaths.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Pixie asked, holding one hand to her heart as if making sure it was still beating.

  “I went for a jog and lost track of time.” Bending over to catch his breath, he continued, “The guy down the road yelled at me from his porch that the president was speaking and I needed to get home, so I hauled ass back.” Wiping sweat off his face, he waited for the women to say something.

  “Well?” he prodded when they were silent.

  “They want women,” Poppy blurted out.

  Brian raised his eyebrows in confusion, sat down next to her and threw an arm over her shoulder. “What?”

  Finding the remote that had fallen in between the cushions, Poppy hit the rewind button. After the entire speech had been replayed, they all sat in silence, staring at the TV.

  Poppy took the silence as a chance to let the possibilities run through her head.

  So many diseases could be eradicated. The US wouldn’t have to fight for oil anymore. Alternative energy sources to stop climate change. So many possibilities…and they wanted women in return.

  Poppy was brought out of her thinking when Pixie nudged her shoulder.

  “Hey, did you hear me?”

  Shaking her head at her sister, she waited for Pixie to repeat herself.

  “I asked, do you think they’ve been taking women all along and those tinfoil crazies were telling the truth?”

  “It sounds as if they are searching for ways to reproduce. I can’t see that abducting a sixty-year-old lady would work and guessing her age at sixty is me being kind. How many women do you think are going to apply?” Pixie wondered.

  “Who in their right mind would apply?” Brian laughed out loud at the thought.

  “Brian, did you not hear what he said? They have the ability to cure cancer. New energy sources that we could use. The possibilities are endless.”

  “They’re going to get a bunch of crazy people applying and that’s all.”

  When Poppy made a face at him, he teased her, “What, Poppy, are you going to apply for the Bridal Pact?”

  “Well, why wouldn’t I?”

  When Pixie choked on the drink she’d been taking from her water bottle, Poppy patted her on the back and kept talking directly to Brian.

  “I could apply if I wanted to. In fact, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea the more I think about it.”

  “Now, hold on right there. Everyone needs to calm down. Poppy, you’re not applying. Brian, shut up and stop egging her on.” Pixie stood up from between them on the couch and moved toward the kitchen.

  Poppy started thinking out loud. “I have a shitty job. I have an even shittier apartment. My car has over two hundred thousand miles on it. My savings account consists of five hundred dollars minus whatever I spent the other day at Mega Mart. I haven’t had a boyfriend, or even a date for that matter, in the last six months. What’s stopping me?”

  Poppy blinked at how fast her sister was able to move to stand in front of her.

  “Pops, are you serious? You’d apply to marry one of them?”

  Pixie’s anxious face had Poppy automatically wanting to reassure her she was just joking. Instead she decided to answer her truthfully. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Pixie lowered herself to sit on the coffee table in front of Poppy. After they’d been eyeballing each other for a moment, Pixie broke the deadlock. She grinned at Poppy and waggled her eyebrows. “What if they have two dicks?

  Seeing that her sister was trying to distract her with humor, she went with it and smiled back. “The more the merrier?”

  Both women erupted in laughter as Brian stood and threw his hands in the air. “You two are crazy. I’m going to take a shower. Figure out what you want for lunch so we can eat once I’m cleaned up.”

  Pixie moved from the coffee table to the couch beside Poppy. “You won’t really apply, will you?”

  Poppy shook her head. “I was just thinking out loud, Pix. But you have to admit, what they can do is amazing.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Watching the news broadcast for a while longer, the women talked about ideas for lunch before settling on going out for Chinese food.

  Once Brian was ready to head out, they all piled into Pixie’s SUV. The Chinese place Brian preferred was close by and only took about ten minutes to get to.

  Getting a table was fairly easy even though the place was crowded. A quick five-minute wait and they were sitting down with menus while groups of people were talking loudly around them. Every once in a while, Poppy would hear “aliens” or “bride” pop up but she didn’t want to eavesdrop too much.

  Brian dominated the conversation over lunch, talking about his work as if he were a heart surgeon saving lives. That was one thing Poppy had never liked about him. Everything he did was crucial. Every meeting he took was with important people. Blah blah blah. It was all too much for Poppy to take sometimes.

  Pixie was quiet through almost the entire meal, and Poppy knew she herself was the reason. She hadn’t meant to worry her big sister when she’d mentioned applying for the Bridal Pact. Poppy wasn’t even sure what these guys looked like, for goodness’ sake. They could be two feet tall with green skin and bulging heads.

  Trying to come back to the present, Poppy listened to Brian drone on and on about work. She’d have to go back to her apartment soon. There was only so much of him she could take. Unlike Pixie, she had a limit on how long she could listen to him and not think he was a total douche. Throughout lunch, she tried to participate in the conversation, or at least Pixie’s portion of it, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the thought of the Bridal Pact out of her head.

  Chapter Five

  Poppy ended up moving back to her apartment after staying with her sister another week. It was either go home or smother Brian in his sleep. She figured that might piss off her sister for some reason. Getting back into a routine seemed to be what everyone else in the world was doing. In the two weeks that had passed since the last presidential press conference, people were once again going to work, mowing their lawns and pretty much ignoring the spaceships.

  Major cities had opened Intake Centers in previously vacant office buildings to gather applications for the Bridal Pact. The first time Poppy had seen a government commercial asking women to apply, she’d been shocked. It played out like a political campaign ad, pointing out all the reasons to apply. It seemed to be working though since the news had shown a few ladies being interviewed on their way into the Intake Centers.

  The only thing that Poppy wasn’t able to get back into the routine of was work. She’d been fired shortly after the office reopened. Apparently being late too often had pissed off the higher-ups and while they’d been closed with all the alien hubbub they’d reorganized the office to eliminate her position.

  Searching the classifieds didn’t give her much hope either. Poppy was told she was overqualified for most positions or needed a better degree for others. Damn history major. It was getting her nowhere fast. Deciding to call Pixie and see if she wanted to get together for dinner seemed like the way to cheer herself up.

  “Hey, Pix, wanna come over and veg? Maybe order a pizza?” Poppy hoped Pixie said yes since she hadn’t seen her sister since moving back to her place. Apparently Bonehead Brenda couldn’t do anything right and Pixie had ended up working late nights fixing problems that she’d created.

  “Sure. It actually figures that my one night off Brian ends up working late. Do I need to stop for a movie?” Pixie asked, sounding as if she were shuffling papers around.

  “Nah, I have the newe
st Simon Pegg one already. Pizza okay or would you rather order something else?”

  “Pizza sounds good. I can be there in…thirty minutes?”

  “Great, bish. Drive carefully.” Hanging up the phone, she flipped on the news to see another presidential speech was going to be televised in an hour. Poppy wondered what bomb the man would drop on the American public this time.

  Studying her feet propped up on the small table, Poppy decided to paint her toenails while waiting for her sister and listening to the news. A few minutes later, while blowing on her now hot-pink toenails, she glanced up to see her doorknob jiggle. Hopefully that was her sister and not Gas-Can-Man, which was what she now called her crazy neighbor. When the door opened to show her frazzled-looking sister, she stopped blowing and smiled at Pixie.

  “You seem stressed. You okay?” Poppy waddled with her toes up to the door to give Pixie a hug.

  “Yeah, just tired. Work has sucked balls. Big, big, big balls.” Pixie pulled a hard cider out of the fridge, cracked it open and took a huge gulp.

  “Nice of you to complain about your job while I don’t have one,” Poppy teased. Humor generally helped knock Pixie out of a funk.

  “You know I could get you a job, right? Just let me know and I can get some hostess hours for you,” Pixie offered in between gulps of her now almost empty drink.