by Susan Kelley
They helped each other undress, dropping their clothing carelessly to the floor. For once the untidiness of it didn’t matter to him. The new skin patch over Molly’s wound still looked pink and tender but it didn’t slow her eagerness for his body.
For long moments, they kissed and touched. And looked. Mak undid the untidy knot holding her hair on top of her head. The thick mass spilled over her shoulders. He buried his face into her hair for a moment, breathing in the fresh sunshine scent it always carried. Though thinner than she had been, all the right places felt soft as he moved between her thighs. They tried to go slow but too many days apart had passed.
Afterward they lay entangled, too sated to move far. Mak ran his fingers through her hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands sliding over his skin.
Molly curled against his side, her hand roaming over his chest. “We’ll have to outfit our new science vessel with a nursery.”
Molly pregnant? An infant in his arms? His child? The images flashed like a passing comet through Mak’s thoughts. Beautiful and untouchable. Until now. “You want to raise our children in space?”
“We have so many places to see and things to discover. What better teachers could they have than us?”
It sounded…perfect. “Because you want to learn everything.”
“And so do you.”
More than anything he wanted to learn everything about her. And he had forever to do it.
Epilogue
It looked more like a military ball than a wedding reception. Men and women in military dress uniforms milled around the banquet hall. The civilians mixed among them fell into two categories, spouses or scientists.
Even among the fit and lean physiques of the military people, five men stood out. Not because they stood taller or looked stronger. Something about their postures and the look in their intense eyes drew people’s attention. They mingled reluctantly, their gazes sliding around the room in constant alertness. They looked dangerous, except for the children surrounding them.
Two small girls danced around the biggest of the men. One little girl looked around six years old and the other a toddler of three. Their mothers clung to the arms of the tall men, smiling at the antics of their daughters.
The Queen of Giroux held the hand of her son of a year and a half. Little Taron Giroux had his father’s clear blue eyes. He tried to follow his father as the leader of the Recon Marines walked to the head table to speak with the groom. Nearly every head in the room turned to watch the man stride across empty dance floor. He nodded at the grey-eyed marine standing with Emma Brand, the richest woman in the universe and heavily pregnant.
People speculated on the Recon Marines, softly arguing their presence in society. But none spoke too loudly. Rumors abounded about the superior hearing of the marines. Though the graceful predatory physical presence of the marines made one uneasy, the power of their wives softened most people’s criticisms.
The bride and groom, married months ago in a private ceremony but now celebrating with friends, moved out onto the dance floor. Everyone knew Dr. Molly Drant, military and civilian alike. Though still a young woman, she’d made her mark as the most brilliant scientist of the times. Rumor claimed her marine husband might be nearly as bright. What kind of children might they produce?
The couple danced alone for the first two minutes, a lovely dark-haired couple, moving with the smooth skill of professional dancers. Then the other marines joined in with their wives, some of them holding children between them.
The varied colors of the women’s dresses and the giggling of happy children soon distracted the eye from the similarities of the marines to each other. After watching for a short time all one saw were five men dancing with the women they loved. More couples joined them on the dance floor. The differences between the Recon Marines and the other military officers no longer struck one. They danced as every other man on the floor. Just men making their way in the world as best as they could but finding more happiness in each day than they’d ever dreamed.
The End
Also available through New Concepts Publishing:
The Marine’s Queen
by
Susan Kelley
Chapter One
“We’ll have heat for one more night.” Yalo swept her gaze across the stark landscape stretching toward the brightening horizon. “Then we’ll freeze and die.”
Queen Callie Adell shaded her eyes against the glare and stared at the wreckage of the military cruiser sitting nearly a half of a mile from their own crash site. “Maybe we should have tried to walk out of here.”
“You made the right choice to stay, my queen. The heat limits travel to a few hours in the morning and evening. Once out of the ship, we wouldn’t have anything to protect us from the heat of day or cold of night. Even if we did, our water would have run out before we reached the little speck of greenery I spotted on the scanners before they went dead.”
The dawn lit the interior of the ship enough for Callie to see that the cold had roused all the others. Four year old Grace had cried off and on all night, sobbing complaints no one could answer. Not even those broke Callie’s heart as much as the frightening silence from Riba’s infant, Sally. Her hungry wails had stopped hours ago.
Yalo sat up in her seat. She’d positioned herself nearest the broken door as if her strength could keep out the killing temperatures. She stretched her arms over her head with a great yawn and then the desert rose up behind her and pulled her out of the hatch. Her startled yelp ended in mid shriek.
Callie rolled out of her chair, her legs tangling in the pile of coats and blouses she’d used as blankets. Screams echoed inside the ship from the other women, but Callie couldn’t make a sound over her shock.
A tall figure shaped like a man but covered with sand sprang into the doorway. It moved aside and another similar but shorter being joined it.
Callie finally found her feet and pushed the others behind her. Riba and Grace hushed their children as they could, but Sally’s mews continued. Her weak cries stabbed through Callie’s terror of the aliens looming a few steps away.
The first invader called out to something or someone outside the ship, using a dialect unknown to Callie but speaking in a human voice.
Human. Callie found she could talk. “What do you want?”
The first one, she guessed it was the leader, looked in her direction. The growing light revealed the material covering its head and the entirety of it body appeared to be a suit and not sand at all. Its colors swirled sickeningly to match the sand outside the open hatch and the walls of the ship with some type of camouflage technology. Protective goggles covered its eyes.
The leader spoke more strange words, and the second alien skirted around them. It moved with animal ease around their belongings and into the guts of their ship. Callie stood in silence between her people and the leader while the other one searched their vessel.
Callie’s anger and despair rose above her fear of the strange interlopers and the odd weapons they held in their gloved hands. “Who are you, and what gives you the right to enter my ship?”
“Are there no men among you?” the leader asked in the common language of the Alliance.
Callie hesitated to give her answer to the fearsome apparition. At least it understood her words.
“Does no one guard you?” it asked.
Callie gestured toward the hatch where Yalo had disappeared. “That woman is my guard.”
Sally whimpered in the silence, her tiny voice sounding frail after the deep tones of the stranger. The first rays of the morning sun edged in the door and brought a welcome warmth.
“Tar,” the leader said over his shoulder. “Bring the woman in.”
A third alien lifted Yalo in the hatch and then sprang up beside her. It released her immediately and drew back to the edge of the opening.
“How did you come to crash on this planet?” The leader seemed to be speaking to Callie, but the angle of its head indicated
it tried to look behind her at Riba and Sally.
Callie shifted so she blocked her cousin and her baby from view. “Tell me who you are before we answer anymore questions.”
Again its full attention swung to her. She lifted her chin and glared at it despite her pounding heart. What type of humanoid might this be? She hadn’t believed any of the rare creatures lived anywhere in this civilized quadrant of space.
It swung its weapon around to its back using a long strap she hadn’t noticed. It pulled off its gloves revealing long-fingered human hands. The skin appeared sun-darkened at it tugged off its dark goggles and then its tight head covering. Eyes bluer than the cloudless sky of the desert planet stared at her. Short hair, dark as the bottom of a mine, stuck out at odd angles.
“Joe.”
“What?” Callie managed around her shock. No grotesque being stood before her but a man with the face of a god. No artist could have created more perfect lines to his jaw and cheekbones. Intelligence gleamed in his compelling eyes.
“My name is Joe.” He gestured toward the other two men who had also removed their headgear. “Roz and Tar.”
Callie nodded at the other two men, each as perfect in his way as Joe. If it weren’t for the heat already building uncomfortably inside her damaged cruiser she might have thought she had died and gone to the afterlife. These men certainly reminded her of the glorious servants of the Spirit Father as depicted in paintings.
“Roz and Tar? Are those their first names or last names?” Callie knew there were more important questions to ask, but she wanted to proceed diplomatically.
Joe’s expression didn’t change but Callie could see thoughts moving behind his eyes. Finally he answered. “Only.”
Yalo edged away from Tar and took up a protective stance in front of Callie. “Get out.”
“Yalo.” Callie placed her hand on her guard’s trembling shoulder. Or was it her own fear coursing across her nerves?
“Get back, your highness.” Yalo shot Callie a wide-eyed glance. “Don’t you know what these creatures are? One name like a pet or a savage guard hound?”
Wondering if the fall out of the hatch had rattled Yalo’s head, Callie spoke as calmly as she could. “They’re men, Yalo. Maybe they can help us.”
“Men?” Yalo might have meant her laugh to be mocking but it sounded hysterical. “They’re not men! They’re recon marines.”
“Fash take me!” The science officer, Acacia, swore from behind Callie.
Sally fussed again, and Riba hushed her with a quiet shaky voice.
Joe took a step forward and reached for something hanging from his belt. Yalo started for him, but Callie took a firm grip on her guard’s arm. The marine unhooked a small sack and lifted it toward them.
“Water with amino acids and electrolytes dissolved into it.” His smooth expression revealed no emotional reaction to Yalo’s harsh words.
Callie took the water bag, her mouth salivating at the thought of a drink. They’d given the last of their water to Riba and little Glory last evening. Callie handed it to Riba who took it with an eager hopeful smile.
The other two men hesitated only an instant before offering their water containers.
“Vin?” Joe said over his shoulder.
“Here,” a fourth marine answered from outside.
“Water.”
No one else spoke as the women passed the sacks around. Yalo continued to glare at the men, but she didn’t pass up the water. A quiet quarter of an hour went by before another beautiful man hopped in through the hatch. He carried more sacks of water and a few other packs.
Vin opened one of the packs and pulled out long stalks of some type of dried fruit or vegetable. He offered it to Yalo and Callie first. When they hesitated he took one of the stalks and bit off the end.
Callie reasoned the marines could kill them at will and weren’t likely to poison them after sharing their precious water. She followed Vin’s example. The food seemed a sour fruit and took a lot of chewing before it could be swallowed.
The other women each took a small piece, but four year old Glory walked a few brave steps forward and held out her hand. The marines didn’t move back, though they appeared to lean away from the child. A tension as if they thought to flee grew around them. Roz knelt slowly, staring at Glory. He pulled a short wicked knife from his boot and cut a piece of the fruit. With a strange wariness he held it out to the child.
Callie held her breath, while Glory walked closer to the marine. Sleep had left the child’s chestnut curls in tangles, and her eyes looked as large of coins. She took the fruit and put it in her mouth, all the time watched by the four marines.
Glory’s nose crinkled at the tart taste, but then a large grin spread across her face. “Thank you, sir.”
Roz stood quickly and retreated to his leader’s side.
“Attend,” Joe snapped, his voice quiet but seeming to shout all the same. The marines all snapped to stiff stances, though Roz stole another glance at Glory. “Who are you?”
Callie understood Yalo’s reaction to the men as she met Joe’s stare. She saw no emotions in his expression and an emptiness behind his eyes where a man’s soul should reside. But he had given her people food and water.
“I’m Queen Callie Adell of Giroux.” Callie stepped forward and offered her hand in the way of interplanetary greeting. Joe ignored it. “Yalo Pangol, my personal guard. Riba Adell, minister of interplanetary diplomacy and her baby, Sally.”
The three marines flanking Joe took an actual step back when Riba moved up beside Callie. Their leader held his ground, but he didn’t even glance toward the baby. Callie continued despite their odd behavior. “Acacia Kesol, my science advisor. Grace Fozell works as my trade minister and you’ve already met her daughter, Glory.”
Joe stared at her when she finished. She stared back but a tiny shiver crawled up her spine as she met his emotionless gaze. The unnatural stillness of the marines and their rare beauty raised the spectra of Yalo’s warning. Were they human at all?
* * * *
“They’re civilians, Joe.” Vin frowned at the cruiser half-buried in the sand one hundred yards from their camp.
“Did you see that little girl?” Roz also stared at the ship full of women.
Joe understood the overwhelmed feelings of his men. Five women, a child and an infant. None of them had ever seen a child so close let alone a baby.
“We should leave them here and go back to base,” Tar said. “Their emergency beacon should bring a rescue soon.”
“More likely it will bring pirates in this sector,” Vin said.
“They’ll freeze or starve before then,” Roz said. “Children need to eat regular meals.”
“What by Fash do you know about children?” Tar snapped.
“Enough,” Joe said quietly. The three marines stiffened to attention. “Why hasn’t someone come looking for them by now? Queen Callie Adell is someone important.”
They all stood quietly for a moment, comfortable with the silence of the desert and each other. Joe knew his men would do what he decided no matter their own feelings on it. Following orders was all they knew.
Joe gestured toward their wrecked ship sitting a half a mile from the women’s ship. “Do you forget why we’re here?”
“We haven’t forgotten, sir,” Vin answered.
“Then let’s take our lesson and be wary of these women and the trouble they carry with them. They may try to use us as others have. From what the lady guard said, they know who we are.”
“Are we going to help them, sir?” Tar’s question was respectful, but his negative opinion of the idea was in his tone.
“What was our duty, our purpose, before the powers corrupted it? How can we not help and know they’ll die or fall into the hands of thugs? What would members of the Rector Freemen do to that little girl?”
Joe looked at his men and received their nods. He’d expected them. If they didn’t help these women then the principles they’d sac
rificed everything for had been little more than space dreams.
Chapter Two
“They’re coming back,” Yalo said from her post near the open hatch.
“Callie’s chest felt tight, but was it fear or hope? These marines, no matter how dangerous, had somehow survived.
“They have to help us.” Riba’s words sounded like a prayer. Sally suckled greedily at Riba’s breast. Already the water and sparse food had restored her milk supply.
“They will.” But Callie’s doubts grew. Why should the men help? The only thing she and her people had to offer the marines could be taken without their permission.
Joe hopped in through the door, a leap of at least four feet he covered without any apparent effort on his part. Callie peered beyond his shoulder and saw his comrades spreading out in the barren landscape. To go where? Were they leaving?
“Do you expect a response to your beacon, Lady Callie?” Joe sounded deferential, but his tone left no doubt he expected an answer.
“I’m still hoping for a reply.”
“Pirates might detect it before help arrives.”
“Don’t try to frighten us with tales of space bandits.” Yalo moved over to stand beside Callie.
“We killed two outlaw vessels before our crash.” If Joe took offense at Yalo’s words, he gave no indication with change of expression or tone.
“It doesn’t matter,” Callie said. “We don’t have enough fuel to heat our vessel for the night. We’ll freeze if you don’t help us. Our water is gone except for what you gave us.”
Joe’s sharp gaze swept the interior of their ship, jerking away from Riba and the baby. When his intense blue eyes again looked into Callie’s, she was struck again by the sheer beauty of his face.
“We have a place three days travel from here with plentiful water and sufficient food.” Joe again gave Riba a quick glance. “It’s a difficult journey, but we might be able to take you there.”
“Might?” Yalo asked before Callie could respond. “What difficulties?”
