Alien Portals: A SciFi Alien Multiverse Romance Novel

by Ruth Anne Scott

  Aquilla held firm, but Penelope Ann wavered. Her eyes skipped from Marissa to Carmen to Aria and back again. She even cast a glance toward Anna.

  “We came with entirely peaceful intentions,” Marissa told them. “We’ve just sent all our troops back into our own territory to prove it to you. If you really want to slaughter us all, we won’t be able to defend ourselves, and you’ll have to start with us. You have no reason not to believe us.”

  “I won’t make peace with the Ursidreans,” Aquilla growled.

  “Then make peace with us,” Chris told him. “We’re neutral.”

  “You’re Lycaon,” he shot back. “And that one is Felsite, and those three belong to the Ursidreans. You might be a different species, but you belong to your factions, just like Penelope Ann belongs to the Avitras. You can’t change that, and you can’t erase the past because you don’t have enough men to guard your border.”

  “You don’t have enough men to guard your border, either.” Anna turned to Penelope Ann. “Help us, Penelope Ann. Don’t let these hostilities go on any longer.”

  Penelope Ann shifted from one foot to the other, but, Piwaka spoke up before she could respond. “We should listen to them. We have nothing to lose and plenty to gain.”

  Aquilla pursed his lips. “Keep silent.”

  “These women aren’t our enemies,” Piwaka replied. “What harm can it do to listen to them?”

  Aquilla glared at his Captain. “How dare you undermine me at a time like this!”

  “I’m not undermining you. I’m helping you.” Piwaka motioned to Penelope Ann. “Ask her. She’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Aquilla rounded on Penelope Ann. “Tell me you’re not taking their side in this.”

  Penelope Ann glanced one way and then the other. “Listen to them. They’re right. We can’t afford these quarrels any longer. Let’s make peace and prosper.”

  “You don’t have to agree with them or join their peace agreement, but at least listen,” Piwaka urged. “They might have some valuable concessions to offer.”

  Aquilla spun away. “Talk all you want. I won’t agree to anything.”

  Piwaka raised his hand to the Avitras Guards. “We’ll camp on this rock, just to make sure the enemy troops don’t return. If you want to negotiate with us, then fall back with your troops. We will meet on neutral ground to discuss this further.”

  The Avitras line broke up. Aria turned her back on them and waved her friends back. “Come on. We’ve won this round—for now, anyway.”

  “I told you Piwaka would help us,” Anna murmured.

  Aimee glanced back over her shoulder and spotted the big Captain watching them retreat. “He succeeded in driving us back. He made us all cower in fright.”

  “We’re not cowering in fright,” Chris told her. “They agreed to stay and negotiate with us. That’s a step in the right direction.”

  “And we’ve got Penelope Ann working for us on the other side, too,” Carmen pointed out. “We’re halfway there.”

  Chapter 5

  Aimee crouched in the angle of a tree branch. Marissa, Carmen, and Aria sat with Penelope Ann in a sunny patch of grass on the bank of a stream below her. What were they talking about?

  Smoke rose from the fires of the Felsite camp on the plain to the east. No smoke came from the Ursidrean camp. They used some strange technology to cook their food and generate heat to keep themselves warm at night. Emily and Anna explained it all to her, but their explanations went right over Aimee’s head. The Ursidrean technology surpassed anything Aimee ever saw on Earth.

  No smoke came from the Avitras on the big rock, either. Anna said the Avitras never ate cooked food, and their feathers kept them warm when temperatures dropped. Aimee shuddered at the thought of them. If Aquilla had his way, all their efforts and hopes would be dashed, and they would go home with nothing, if they were lucky. Their peace negotiations could still end in bloodshed.

  In the clearing by the stream, Aria waved her hand, and Penelope Ann nodded. At least they were talking. Those four came to Angondra together, and they’d barely seen each other since. Now, Aria and Carmen had children from their Alpha mates, and Marissa was pregnant. Did they ever dream of going back to Earth? Did they miss their families and their pasts?

  Aimee tightened her jacket around her shoulders. The sun inched lower over the Divide toward night, and it would be another cold one. None of the men had negotiated with each other. Only the women came together, and who knew how successful that would be? Aimee would have to ask Marissa what they talked about. Sitting in a tree watching those women in conversation wasn’t accomplishing anything. Aimee shimmied down the tree and set her feet on solid ground.

  “What are you doing, spying on them?” The voice made her jump out of her skin. She spun around and found herself face to face with Piwaka.

  Aimee covered her heart with her hand. “You scared me.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing, spying on those women? They’re supposed to be meeting alone.”

  “Marissa asked me to make sure no one interrupted their conversation.” Aimee narrowed her eyes at him. “She was worried someone would take advantage of the situation and maybe try to kidnap one of them the way Aquilla kidnapped Menlo. So what are you doing out here, lurking around?”

  “I’m monitoring the well-being of my Alpha’s mate,” he shot back. “What else would I be doing?”

  Aimee snorted. “That’s a laugh.”

  He shrugged. “I have as much right to take a walk through the woods as you do.”

  “I’m their friend,” she pointed out. “You’re Captain of the Guard of....”

  “Of what?” he interrupted. “Of the enemy army? Is that what you were about to say?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped. “But you’re the Captain of the Guard of the one faction opposed to this peace negotiation. How do I know you didn’t come here to kidnap me or kill me, just to sabotage the negotiation?”

  His eyes gave her no rest. She couldn’t hide anything from him. “I don’t have to kidnap you or kill you or anybody else to sabotage this negotiation. This negotiation is dead in the water without me. If I don’t want it to happen, I just have to sit back and let it fail. I’m the only person who can save it.”

  She stared at him. “What about Penelope Ann? She can convince Aquilla to go along with it.”

  Piwaka shook his head. “He loves her, but he wouldn’t take her advice on a political matter like this. He’s already hostile enough to the whole notion of peace, I would only have to drop a few choice words in his ear and we would be at war with....well, with the Ursidreans for certain, possibly the Felsite, too, and the Lycaon would get dragged into it for good measure.”

  “If that’s true,” Aimee asked, “why are you still here? Why don’t you let it fail? Why keep it going?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I’m here because I want the negotiation to succeed. I want the factions to be at peace, once and for all.”

  She blinked. “You do?”

  He gazed into the distance. “I’ve seen war. I’ve seen a lot of war. I’ve seen a lot more of war than Aquilla, or anyone else on the Guard, for that matter. I’m finished with war. I’ll do anything to stop it.”

  “Then why didn’t you say so when the Avitras confronted us up on the mountain?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell Aquilla then that you supported us?”

  His face bent in a wry smile. “You women have so many noble qualities, but political acuity isn’t one of them. If I had told Aquilla outright I supported your embassy, and that I would do anything in my power to avoid another war—even to the detriment of the Avitras—he would have turned on me. He never would have trusted a word I say, and all our hopes would have been lost.”

  “So how can we convince him?” she asked.

  “Our only chance,” he replied, “is to let him have his hostilities. You
can’t talk him out of them. You have to let them fall away from him naturally. No one can speed up that process, not even Penelope Ann, and anyone who tries will only make him their enemy. I’m the only person who can support Aquilla, who can agree with him and give his hatred and prejudice their full latitude. That’s the only way we’ll get him to change.”

  Aimee studied him. He was a lot older than she first realized. His feathers gleamed brighter than any Avitras she’d ever seen—not that she’d seen many. But she’d seen the Guard in formation on the mountain. Not only did Piwaka dwarf them in size and bulk, but his feathers outshone theirs. He was older. He was old enough to be Aquilla’s father.

  Still, something drew her to him, something deeper than his appearance. He possessed that magnetic quality of setting everyone around him at ease. That’s what he meant by supporting Aquilla in his hatred and hostility. What better way to convince him than to make him believe they agreed with him?

  He noticed her watching him and cocked his head. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She shook herself. “I was just thinking.”

  “What were you thinking?” he asked.

  “I was wondering if there was anything we could do—I mean us women,” she told him. “We came all this way for peace. There must be something we can do.”

  “You’re doing it.” He waved his hand toward the four women on the knoll. “They’re doing it.”

  “What are we doing?” she asked. “We haven’t done anything.”

  “We wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you,” he told her. “You brought the Ursidreans and the Lycaon together, and now you’re bringing them together with the Felsite. That in itself is something to be proud of.”

  Aimee made a face. “Chris and Emily brought the Lycaon together with the Ursidreans, but it was Donen who made the first overture of peace toward Renier. It’s him we should be thanking.”

  He put his head on one side. “Do you really think he would have considered making that overture if his mate and Renier’s mate weren’t the same species, and even from the same transport? I’m sure that had something to do with it.”

  “That’s not my understanding of events at all,” she returned. “The hostilities between the Felsite and the Ursidreans dragged their factions into two disastrous wars. Donen didn’t want to repeat them, and he even overrode the Ursidreans’ Supreme Council by sending Renier a message of peace.”

  Piwaka turned away. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and the three factions are prepared to work together to convince Aquilla.”

  “From what you say, though,” she pointed out, “none of us will have as much influence on him as you. Maybe it would be better if we weren’t here.”

  He pointed at her. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. It was your friend Anna who originally convinced me to take this step. She convinced me to go against Aquilla’s express orders to free Menlo. If I hadn’t done that, none of us would be here now. The Ursidreans would be arming for war to avenge Menlo’s death.”

  She thought that over. Then she nodded. “She’s not my friend.”

  His head shot up. “What?”

  “Anna,” she replied. “She’s not my friend. She’s my cousin.”

  He opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Then he laughed. “My mistake.”

  She glanced down the hill. The sun slanted over the Divide and struck the Ursidrean battle machines. “I better get back. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

  He didn’t seem to hear. “Why are you here?”

  Her head whipped around. “What?”

  “Why are you here?” he repeated. “All the others are mated with someone involved in the negotiation, but you’re not. So far as I can tell, you’re the one person totally unconnected to this whole process.”

  “I suppose I came to support my cousins and my friends,” she replied.

  Piwaka shook his head. “That can’t be the reason. Emily traveled over three factions’ territory to find her cousins, and in the process, she brought news to all three of them that they were ripe for peace. Anna confronted Aquilla with his own reckless policy of capturing an innocent Ursidrean and holding him hostage in revenge for something that essentially never happened. She succeeded, and then she left with Menlo to join the Ursidreans. Even Aria started with the Felsite and went to the Ursidreans to mate with Donen.”

  “So what’s that got to do with me?” she asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied. “It doesn’t. You don’t have anything to do with this process. Even Chris was instrumental in taking Emily across the Lycaon border in search of her sisters and you. What have you done? You’ve been a warrior with the Lycaon since they rescued you from the Romarie crash. What part do you play in all this?”

  “Can’t I just be here to help my friends?” she asked. “Do I have to be part of it?”

  “You are part of it,” he told her. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have traveled all the way here to put yourself in the line of fire with a hostile faction. I just can’t figure out what part you do play in all this.”

  “Don’t break your head over it,” she growled. “When Turk told us the Ursidreans and the Felsite were meeting to negotiate peace with Aquilla, he said all the other women were coming along in the hopes that they could help sway the men in favor of peace. He suggested we all come to tip the balance.”

  He peered into her eyes. “So that’s why you came?”

  She shrugged. “That, and the possibility of seeing my cousins and my friends again. That’s as complicated as it gets.”

  He knit his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  Now she laughed at him. “Quite sure. Don’t think too much. You’ll give yourself an aneurism.”

  He frowned. “A what?”

  She turned away. “Forget it. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

  He called after her. “That’s not the reason.”

  She stopped walking and glanced at him over her shoulder. “What is the reason, then? If you know so much, why don’t you tell me the reason?”

  He stayed where he was. “I don’t know the reason, but I’m quite certain that isn’t it.”

  She rounded him. “You must have some idea.”

  “I told you I don’t know the reason,” he replied, “but it can’t be that. Supporting your cousins and your friends is too shallow a reason. I’ve seen enough of life to trust my instincts, and the real reason is something much deeper. Something tells me you’re the lynchpin on which this whole process rests. You’ll be the one to bring this negotiation to fruition, not any of the others.”

  She gestured toward the four friends sitting together in the fading sunlight. “What about them? Are you telling me they don’t have anything to do with this?”

  “They certainly have something to do with it,” he replied. “But you’ll be the hammer that drives the last spike home. You’ll be the one to seal the deal and deliver all these factions from the danger of future war.”

  “And what about the Aqinas?” she asked. “They aren’t even part of this negotiation. How am I going to deliver them?”

  He smiled. “Ah, the Aqinas. You’re the first person I’ve heard mention them.”

  “Do you have any plan to include them in this negotiation?” she asked.

  “Plan?” he repeated. “I have no plan. This negotiation belongs to you and your friends. It has nothing to do with me.”

  Aimee smacked her lips. “Of course it has something to do with you. You just said you could make it succeed or fail as you please. It has more to do with you than it does with me.”

  He shook his head. “You’ll see I’m right.”

  She glared at him. “I’ll see you know more about me than I know about myself. I can’t wait.” She spun on her heel and set off down the hill.

  She didn’t think about him, and she didn’t realize he was following her until he spoke to her again. “Tell y
our friends they can do more in their own factions than they can by talking to Penelope Ann.”

  She spun around and confronted him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think you’ll make an ally of me by speaking in riddles?”

  “The more they talk to Penelope Ann,” he told her, “the more they’ll alienate Aquilla from their purpose. The more he sees them trying to win her over, the more he’ll mistrust them and her. They would do better to work on their own mates.”

  “Their own mates aren’t hostile to peace,” she pointed out. “Aquilla is the one Alpha standing in the way of complete planetary peace.”

  Piwaka shook his head. “Don’t believe it. You won’t make peace by overcoming Aquilla’s hatred. Do you think his intransigence could stop these men from fighting each other if they wanted to? Think about it.”

  Dread crept into Aimee’s heart. She stared at him, but a distant nightmare played out before her eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that these men do make peace,” he told her. “Let’s say they all embrace and go home in perfect harmony. What then?”

  “What do you mean, what then?” she asked. “They’ll live the rest of their lives in security and safety, and their women and children won’t have to worry about random invasions and attacks from other factions. What else could possibly happen?”

  “You’re a Lycaon warrior,” he pointed out. “Do you really think Caleb will disband the warriors and send them all back to their villages? Do you think Donen will decommission the border patrols and withdraw them all to the city? Of course not. The border patrols will continue. The warriors will continue to train.”

  “Are you saying nothing will change?” she asked.

  “I’m saying there’s a lot more blocking the factions from achieving true peace than Aquilla’s intransigence. You’re not likely to get him to embrace these men and go home in perfect harmony, but even if he did, there would still be a lot of work to do before you get true peace.”