The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure

by JC Andrijeski

  “You are here,” he said, his tail making another deceptively lazy arc in the open space to the right of where he walked.

  He stood only a handful of yards from her now, and Jet found herself stiffening, if not quite dropping into an actual fighting stance. She watched him make another lazy line in front of her, effectively crossing her line of sight to the door.

  “Why is it?” Laksri said, his black eyes fixed on hers. “Are you lost, friend of the Palace, and of Prince Ogli?”

  Jet felt her jaw harden.

  Whatever Laksri wanted of her, and whatever made him follow her here, she felt quite sure he knew very well that she wasn’t “lost.”

  For the same reason, she didn’t bother to answer, but folded her arms. Bolting clearly wasn’t an option, considering how quickly he could catch her and sting her with his tail. She didn’t have a weapon, so that left her with few options.

  “What do you want?” she said, when he stopped walking.

  “There is moment… for talking.” He blinked with that faint twitch of his mouth that Jet had learned meant amusement. He gestured up at the cave walls, then at the cylindrical machines now behind him and to his right.

  “You pick this?” he said. “For talking?”

  Jet had also learned to translate most of his broken English.

  Most of it.

  “Do you mean did I pick this place deliberately in order to talk to you?” Jet said, her voice faintly incredulous. “No. What do you want, Laksri?”

  “Fortuitous,” he said, bowing his head. “It is a good place.”

  “You’re saying they don’t have surveillance down here?” Jet said, surprised.

  “Surveillance everywhere,” Laksri said, motioning impatiently with one thick claw. He blinked at her again, tilting his large head sideways. He wore a thick cloth around his head, as many of the male Nirreth did, especially the guards. It wasn’t quite a turban, more like a thick, black scarf without the ties at the back.

  “Not where it is. But when,” Laksri added.

  “You mean when the surveillance is on us?”

  “When is it watched,” Laksri clarified. “This is at night. Only night. Too many here in the day. The time is good. Fortuitous.”

  Jet frowned when he used the word a second time.

  Had he looked the word up recently in his English-to-Nirreth dictionary?

  She glanced around, still frowning, her hands on her hips. She hadn’t seen anyone down here yet, or in any of the smaller corridors, not once she got off the main thoroughfare. She didn’t bother to contradict him, but she heard him make the faint hissing sound that came closest to their laughter.

  “It is a good time,” he said again. “And a good place.”

  “Fine,” Jet said, realizing she probably wouldn’t get much more clarity on that point. “It’s a good time and place for what, Laksri? Did you want to tell me something?” She added, muttering under her breath, “…Finally?”

  “We will let him do that.”

  “Him?” Jet’s frown deepened. “Him, who?”

  Laksri merely bowed and stepped to one side, enough that Jet realized another man had walked in behind him, probably while she’d been focused on whether the Nirreth planned to sting her, like he had the first time they’d met.

  When she saw the human standing there, she forgot all of that.

  “Richter,” she breathed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He smiled sideways at her, that same smile that never seemed to touch his eyes.

  “Happy to see me, kitten?”

  “Overjoyed,” Jet said, biting down on her jaw. “Where have you been?”

  The rebel leader actually laughed, combing his thick fingers through dark brown hair that had a long gold streak down the back. It had only been a few weeks, but Richter’s hair looked longer to her. It made him look younger than ever, which bothered her more now that she knew him as Anaze’s father.

  “Well, I’m glad to see they haven’t housebroken you already,” he said, with a more genuine smile. “Although your manners, as always, could use a bit of polish, girl.”

  “What do you want… Eamon?” she said, a touch biting.

  His smile turned more cynical. “Funny you should ask.”

  “Not that funny.” Her fingers clenched under where she’d folded her arms. “I knew you couldn’t possibly be here for any other reason. You must want something.”

  Even so, she found herself thrown off-balance by his sudden appearance.

  He wore more formal clothes this time, and in a more Nirreth style, which made her wonder what else had brought him to the Palace, and who he’d seen since he’d arrived.

  Torn between not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing the lack of communication had been getting to her, and wanting to ask him some of the questions she hadn’t thought to ask Anaze, as well as a few she’d run out of time to ask, she finally settled on facing the lake, her voice neutral.

  “So, what is it?” she said. “What do you want?”

  When she glanced back, Richter was staring at her again, that uncanny scrutiny in his eyes. Since he often seemed to be able to guess what Jet was thinking, just by staring at her in that particular way, she looked away, feeling her jaw harden.

  “Well?” she said. “Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?”

  When she glanced back at him next, Richter shrugged, as if conceding her point. He sat down on an angular protrusion jutting out of the tile floor.

  “The thing is, kitten,” he said folding his arms and letting out a short exhale. “We have a problem. Related to you.”

  “Okay,” Jet said warily. “What kind of problem?”

  He shrugged, his expression suddenly cagey.

  When he looked at her next, he seemed to be measuring her reactions with his eyes.

  “You’re not domesticated enough,” he said finally.

  His voice came out blunt, holding not a trace of apology.

  “Not for the council of advisors to the Royals, anyway. Not for most of the nobility, either. You’re starting to make some of their bigwigs nervous.”

  “Domesticated?” Jet said, hearing the bite in her own voice. She glanced at Laksri. “Domesticated how? Meaning what, exactly?”

  “Meaning…”

  Hesitating, Richter shrugged again as he looked away. His eyes rested on the dark waters of the reservoir before he went on.

  “…Meaning, I suppose, that the Nirreth don’t trust any human who isn’t getting stung on a regular basis,” he said, sparing her another glance before his eyes darted back to the water. “Preferably by the same Nirreth, or the same couple of Nirreth.”

  Shrugging again, without looking at her, he added,

  “And meaning, we really need them to trust you before we can enter into the next phase of our project. They aren’t there yet, kitten, and I need them to be. So does Laksri here,” he added, hooking at thumb at the tall Nirreth.

  Laksri’s face remained inscrutible, but somehow, his stare was harder for Jet to hold than Richter’s.

  “In fact,” Richter added, looking up at her from his perch on the square length of pipe. “…a lot of them are complaining that you’re too close to the prince, kitten. Especially given how ‘uncontrolled’ you are.” Richter used his fingers to make the quote marks in the air. “I’m starting to hear about it, in terms of my training you for living in the Palace.”

  “Training me to do what?” Jet retorted. “To get stung?”

  “Basically… yes,” Richter said, his voice holding a trace of apology. “They want you to take a lover… a Nirreth lover,” he added, giving her a hard look. “That boy you’ve got in your bed doesn’t count.”

  “That ‘boy’ is your son,” Jet retorted. “I would think you could remember his name, if that’s the case.”

  Richter’s face hardened.

  He glanced up at the cylindrical machine, just as Laksri had done a few moments before.

>   When he looked at Jet next, she saw real anger in his eyes.

  “Keep your mouth shut about that, girl, or I won’t bother to consult you on these matters in the future,” he said. “You’re never to mention a word of that inside these walls. Do you hear me? Or I’ll see to it you get stung a half-dozen times a day… if not more.”

  Jet felt her jaw harden, but didn’t answer.

  Family was family. Even for Richter, apparently.

  Jet got why he wouldn’t want Anaze’s parentage to reach the ears of the Nirreth security guards.

  “Fine,” she said. “…and no,” she added. “To the lover part. That’s not going to happen.”

  “That’s not the part I was consulting you on, kitten,” he said grimly, giving her a level stare, that time with a touch more emotion in it.

  What emotion exactly, Jet couldn’t tell, but if he’d been anyone else, she might have read it as sympathy.

  “You get your choice of the who on this one,” he added. “But not the what.”

  Jet stared at him.

  Replaying his words, she found she understood them just fine.

  Some part of her hoped she hadn’t.

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “No. As in, no way. As in, not going to happen, Richter.”

  He sighed, folding his arms across his chest.

  Leaning back slightly, he propped his ankle on the opposite knee.

  “I hate to put you in this position, girl. I really do. But it can’t be helped. They’re pulling you from the Rings until they’re convinced you’re compliant. I don’t have time for them to decide to trust you after a few years of reliable service.”

  Shrugging, he refolded his arms, looking down at his boots.

  “We need you operational now. Now, Jet. So you get your choice.”

  “Which is who, exactly?” Jet said, unable to stop herself from asking. “Who, exactly, are my choices?”

  “The kid,” Richter said with a shrug, as though that were obvious. He turned slightly, aiming a finger at the tall Nirreth. “…Or Laksri here.”

  Jet felt her body freeze.

  Unfortunately, it happened after she’d already shifted her eyes to Laksri’s face, so she found herself staring at him for a few seconds too long before she caught herself and jerked her gaze back to Richter.

  “No,” she said.

  “To which one?” Richter said.

  “To either!” Jet snapped. “Ogli’s just a kid. I don’t know what kind of ‘lover’ you think he could handle exactly, but that kid still gets entertained by bubbles… for hours, sometimes. And let’s not forget his best friend is an otter.”

  “Well, then,” Richter said.

  His eyes grew hard as glass, but Jet noticed he couldn’t quite hold her gaze.

  “…It sounds like Laksri then,” he said, giving her that infuriating half-smile. “I can’t say I blame you. I’ve considered asking him to sting me a few times, myself.”

  Jet found herself looking at the tall Nirreth again, before she could stop herself. His dark eyes remained equally fixed on her. When she frowned at him, his tail flicked sideways, but she couldn’t get a read on the precise emotion that was meant to convey, either.

  “Stinging is what is important,” Laksri said, his accent merging the ends and beginnings of the words. “Not the other. Just stinging. They look for that. Not the other.”

  “They’ll check the tapes,” Jet said, giving him a hard look back. “How stupid do you think I am? And they’ll know something’s up if we don’t.”

  Laksri hissed a little, shaking his head, an abbreviated imitation of the human gesture.

  “We move to my room. Not tapes. Not camera. I can request. They see you stung, it is enough.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Few Nirreth wouldn’t. Few humans wouldn’t, when drunk with venom. Why question it?”

  Jet stared at him, hating the color she knew must be rising to her cheeks.

  She turned, glaring at Richter.

  “No.”

  “No?” Richter said. “If you can’t do this, then we’ll replace you. It’s that simple.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Take me home.”

  He gave her a faintly incredulous smile, one that didn’t touch his eyes.

  “Doesn’t work that way, kitten. You’d be sold. Probably to someone who would want some on the side… and who wouldn’t sting you all polite-like, the way Laksri here would.”

  She shook her head. Her fingers balled into fists.

  “There has to be another way.”

  “None that’s fast enough, sweetheart… sorry.”

  He gave Laksri a searching look, one Jet couldn’t interpret. When Richter glanced back at her, the emotion left his face, his mouth shifting back to one of his faint smirks.

  “Anyway,” he added. “From what Laksri here tells me, you’re running out of time. That is, if you want a say in who stings you. Not to mention whether or not any hanky-panky is likely to follow. Laksri thinks Ogli’s developed a crush on you, kitten.”

  He shrugged again, picking at his front teeth with a fingernail.

  “How long, do you suppose, before he acts on it? Most kids his age have impulse control issues… as you may have noticed. Young Nirreth also have pretty strong libidos.”

  Again, Jet gave him an incredulous look, one she darted back to Laksri.

  Unlike Richter’s mask of smiles and jabs, the Nirreth’s face hadn’t moved.

  “He’s like… nine!” she spluttered, unsure why she had to keep explaining this to either of them. She gestured sharply, giving Richter the brunt of her stare. “What part of his ‘being nine’ isn’t clear to you?”

  Richter only shrugged, adjusting his weight on the pipes before he shoved his hands into his pockets, crossing his ankles.

  “He might be nine, but he’s the prince,” he said, his voice a touch more serious. “Your window’s closing, kitten. It’s a fact. Laksri seems to think young Ogli will throw a fit about our proposed alternative as it is… based on what he’s observed of late. But the kid can’t do anything about it, not if Laksri registers the pairing. Ogli can bitch and moan and throw as many temper tantrums he likes. He can make both of your lives absolute hell, if he wants, too. But he can’t force you to lie with him after that, not unless Laksri agrees to the arrangement, or makes an overt offer. Which he won’t,” Richter added, glancing up at the tall Nirreth with a smile. “Will you, you oil slick-blue barbarian?”

  Laksri didn’t answer, but showed his teeth a little in Richter’s direction.

  Jet couldn’t tell if it was one of those fake smiles the Nirreth sometimes tried, or if he was actually baring his teeth at Richter in annoyance.

  To Jet, he said in stilted, almost formal speech, “I will not. No offers. Not unless you want such. With another.”

  “And what about Anaze?” Jet said, cutting him off even as she looked away from those deep black eyes.

  She knew she turned a little too fast, but tried to keep it off her face, and out of her voice.

  “…Does Anaze move in with Laksri, too? Or were you planning on selling him to some other horny Nirreth?”

  When she glanced at Laksri that time, he seemed to be frowning, or that odd, lip curl that served as the Nirreth equivalent.

  “You sex with him?” Laksri asked suddenly, in his rough English. “Now, I mean. Is the boy with you now?”

  “Am I sex with him?” Jet said, even as Richter chuckled. “No,” she said, not looking at Richter. “No, I not sex with him. Not like that’s any of your lizard-skin business…”

  Richter held up a hand in a peace gesture, still smiling a little.

  “All right, all right, children. You can bicker behind closed doors. So are we in agreement then? This thing needs to happen. Tonight. I’m not risking Ogli getting randy after lessons tomorrow… we need this handled.”

  At Jet’s hard look, Richter frowned, giving a dismissive wave.

  “Don’t worry about Anaze. He�
�ll remain in the same room you share now. I’ll see to it that you retain that as your official residence, even if you don’t sleep there all that much.”

  Jet swallowed, staring at him. “That’s not exactly my primary concern.”

  Richter stood up, brushing his hands off on one another, then smoothing them on his pants. Once again, a vague discomfort flitted across his expression.

  Or maybe Jet just imagined that it did.

  Maybe she wanted to believe he actually gave a shit.

  “All right,” he said, his voice holding a note of finality.

  He gestured vaguely between Jet and Laksri.

  “So… it makes sense to start before you go back to the room. We need at least a few other lizard skins to see her walking around like that. Shall we say after the lessons today?”

  He aimed a taut smile at Jet.

  Again, she got the fleeting impression he was avoiding meeting her gaze.

  “We need you in shape for the Rings, after all. Can’t be letting your extracurriculars interfere with work.”

  Laksri grunted, but it wasn’t in humor.

  He folded his long arms in front of his chest, and Jet wondered fleetingly if he was still wounded from where she’d cut him with her sword. Even as she thought it, his long-fingered hand massaged the upper part of his own chest, right about where she’d sawed through his shirt and his dark blue skin.

  Swallowing, Jet looked back to find Richter staring at her. She swore she saw a frown on his face, but couldn’t for the life of her interpret what it meant.

  When no one said anything, she shrugged, keeping her own face impassive.

  She could no longer think of a good argument against their words, and for some reason, it felt worse to throw a fit than to shrug it off like she didn’t care. Without waiting for the rest of them to end the meeting formally, she simply headed for the door.

  She pushed past Laksri’s tall form as if he weren’t there, and didn’t spare Richter a glance.

  “Fine,” she said, without looking back at either of them. “Until then, why don’t both of you do me a favor and leave me alone?”

  “If you’d stay away from the restricted areas of the Palace for once, I might actually listen to that advice,” Richter retorted, raising his voice at the end to call after her retreating back.