Not of This World

by Tracy St. John

  “Please wait for document retrieval.”

  Jeannie waited while the system worked, sipping her tea. She wondered what Kren was doing at that moment.

  No matter how she warred with herself when he was at work and she studied at Mekay’s dome, all good sense departed the moment Kren walked in at the end of the day. She cursed herself for the weakness.

  Beyond trust issues, it was stupid to be invested in someone she had no future with. As long as the Assembly agreed she was not something manufactured by the Monsuda, she was to go home. It might be a while before that could happen since the Risnarish didn’t know how to send her to Earth, but it would be the end goal. Once judged not dangerous to Hahz, Jeannie would have no reason to pass her nights in their head policeman’s arms. She would be sent to live with the women of the temple.

  Jeannie made a face. As quiet and peaceful as the temple was, it lacked a vibrancy she craved. Her fellow females led a sedate routine of scientific inquiry, meditation, and spiritual study.

  Not me. She’d miss talking shop with the weavers’ guild, passing conversation about Kren’s farm with his Bonch foreman Henis, and of course the easy end-of-day tomfoolery at the campfire erawots.

  Most of all, she wanted to be with Kren. Jeannie couldn’t stand to think of not seeing him every day. It wasn’t all about the almost-sex they had nightly either, though that was pretty spectacular. His grin, his easygoing nature, the kindnesses that were second nature to him...the thought of not getting to have that each and every day made her heart lurch painfully. How could she go back to being alone after the companionship that led her to wake each morning with a smile?

  “The manuscript Ancient Encounters meets the criteria you have set. It is the best regarded resource for alien first encounters,” the system announced. “Would you like to begin?”

  “Sure.” She’d settled nothing in her mind when it came to Kren, except maybe things had moved beyond a case of simple infatuation. As stupid as the notion might be, she did not want to leave him. She wanted to stay on Risnar. She wanted to live with Kren until he inevitably broke her heart.

  “I’m screwed,” she whispered to herself. “Stupid feelings.”

  The system began reading the document it had found. It was a welcome interruption since Jeannie couldn’t otherwise quit her obsessive musing over Kren. “The first alien encounter in recorded history remains a mystery to this day. The creature appeared in the Sisneg region over two hundred thousand years ago when it wandered into a village. It was bipedal and possessed some form of language. However, it was of primitive intelligence. Because of the panic that ensued at his appearance, the creature was killed. Though a thorough search was made, no more of its kind were discovered. The specimen was later destroyed in a fire, with only pictures and a few samples of DNA remaining for study.”

  “Heartwarming.” Her heart pounded. The creature had suffered the same fate she would if the Assembly went against her.

  “Here is a picture of the creature,” the unflappable system said.

  A second projection blinked on next to the document. Jeannie took one look and jumped up with a little scream, spilling the last of her tea. She stared at the picture floating before her, terror filling her gut.

  It was male. His body was tobacco-brown and coarse, graying black hair floated in a wiry cloud around his head. His mouth protruded, jutting forward beneath wide nostrils. His brow bone was huge, and his forehead sloped steeply back from it.

  What Earth child had never seen pictures of cavemen? Jeannie couldn’t have put a scientific name to the creature, which stood slightly taller than her. Was he a Neanderthal? Cro-Magnon? She had no idea. But without a doubt, people like this creature had wandered her own planet in the distant past.

  Fear surged. Jeannie fought for breath. Had the caveman come from Earth, stolen so long ago by the Monsuda? Or had he been made by the Monsuda and transplanted on her world, eventually evolving into homo sapiens?

  She was no construct of the enemy, but maybe her ancestors had been.

  One thing was for sure. The question of her existence had gotten a lot more complicated. What would that mean to the Assembly?

  * * *

  Kren stood a few feet from the door of Mekay and Gurnal’s dome. He drew out the anticipation of seeing Jeannie after a day of work, of pulling her into his arms and holding her close. This was his favorite part of the day. Particularly this day, after his conversation with Arga.

  Now was when he could put doubts and fears away and lose himself in Jeannie’s heaven-blue eyes. He would postpone worrying about the return of the Elders Council and the Assembly’s decision. He would quit obsessing over Arga’s plan to attack the hive on his own. Kren would stop second-guessing his plan to put other men’s lives at stake for Jeannie. This was the moment he could temporarily forget about the increasing number of drone sightings outside the village barrier.

  Kren’s stomachs churned. Something was off about the Monsudan drones. They kept appearing at different points around the village, coming out of the woods and then melting back into its shadow before the enforcers could arrive and engage them. No one had ever seen them act in such a way before.

  He tried to tell himself the nearby hive’s servants had suffered some sort of system-wide malfunction, something that was affecting their behavior. That was the best explanation, the one that made the most sense and frightened him the least.

  He didn’t want to think about how the drones seemed to be taunting him and his men. How they appeared just long enough to raise the alarm and then disappeared again. That would mean they were goading the Risnarish, provoking them in hopes of some particular response.

  What response, Kren couldn’t imagine.

  He had tensed up, letting the day’s frustrations ruin the moment just before seeing Jeannie. He tried some breathing exercises to make himself relax, but now that his attention centered on her, his hearts ignored him. They sped up with the knowledge he was about to be in her presence yet again. His stomachs ceased roiling in fear and warmed instead with anxious pleasure.

  Was this mix of nervousness and delight normal for the men and women of Jeannie’s race? He wished he could have spoken to a male Earthling, someone used to living among the women they could hope to cohabitate with. Someone who had navigated this new world of close male-female relationships. He had no one to turn to, no one to advise him. He was on his own, struggling in the darkness of inexperience.

  Kren sighed and gave up trying to settle his nerves.

  He walked up to the door, resigned to his fate of unrequited ardor. The entrance opened for him automatically, and he stepped inside.

  Jeannie was usually in the visiting partition, so he went there right away. His footsteps hurried faster the closer he got to her. He was always eager for that first glimpse of the Earthling who had come to mean too much to him.

  As soon as he stepped past the partition wall, he saw her with her back to him, a couple of projections shimmering before her. He paid no attention to whatever it was she’d chosen to study that day. His gaze was all for her, his Earthling treasure with the sunshine hair.

  Jeannie gasped, startled by his arrival. She swung about, and Kren’s warm greeting died on his lips. She wasn’t merely surprised. Her face held sheer terror.

  He didn’t remember going to her. All at once he had her in his arms, pulling her close to shield her from whatever had given her that terrible look of horror.

  “Kren!” Her fingers wrapped around his biceps, holding on with a desperate grip. At the same time, she pushed away. She clung and tried to escape all at once.

  “What is it, treasured? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t know what I am! Maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not real!” She burst into tears.

  Kren was confused and looked around for answers. His gaze fell on the projections floating nearby. One
was a document, something about the ancient Sisneg Man. Next to it was a picture of that creature, a bipedal humanoid similar to Kren and Jeannie in many respects. Neither projection gave him any answers as to what had upset the Earthling.

  “Jeannie, talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She continued to weep but pulled herself together to talk. She pointed at the picture. “Him. He was an Earthling, one of humanity’s ancient ancestors. My people evolved from those like him.”

  Kren struggled to absorb what she was saying. He read the document before him, reminding himself of long-ago archeological lessons in the Recreation and Education Center. As an amateur treasure hunter and archeologist, he’d taken a great deal of interest in such things.

  Jeannie continued to huddle against him, crying softly. She’d given up her weak attempts to escape and now burrowed her face against his chest. A part of Kren registered her warmth, the fact that he held her.

  It was eclipsed by the dawning of understanding. Kren’s jaw dropped as he realized the ramifications of what Jeannie had discovered.

  An early version of her people had been on Risnar millennia ago. It had been during a period when his people were nothing more than farmers and shamans. The Risnarish were just beginning their civilization and banding together to fend off the predations of the already technologically advanced Monsuda. They had been intelligent then, but their spirituality had been tainted with superstition and fear. They counted anything unfamiliar as dangerous and had destroyed Sisneg Man when it stumbled among them.

  Kren stared at the picture of Sisneg Man. This coarse creature was the beginning of Jeannie’s people? Knowing what he did of his own race’s evolution, he could believe it. Early Risnarish had been quadrupeds and hairy, not so dissimilar from the Bonch. So yes, it was easy to see how Sisneg Man had resolved into the more delicate Earthling he held now. But had that creature started existence in a Monsudan lab?

  “No,” he said out loud. Kren framed Jeannie’s face with his hands and made her look up at him. “No, the Monsuda did not make him. At the time of his appearance they were advanced, with machines that did amazing things, but they had developed only the most rudimentary robotics. They could not have engineered such a creature at that stage.”

  “No one claims I’m a robot,” Jeannie said. “The fear is that I was constructed in a lab out of biological ingredients.”

  “It’s the same argument,” he insisted. “Two hundred thousand years ago, the Monsuda were in the first stages of genetic manipulation. That’s about the time they started attacking us, abducting us for experimentation. They could not have created a living creature, which from all accounts, Sisneg Man was. They must have somehow stolen him from your world.”

  “They didn’t have spaceflight then,” Jeannie reminded him. “How could they have taken him from Earth?”

  “They still don’t have spaceflight,” Kren said, warming to his convictions. “They discovered a way to get to your planet that doesn’t rely on that. Some sort of interdimensional way of traveling. Our scientists have been working on that very thing. We know it’s possible even though we haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “Do you really think so?” Jeannie stopped crying, her face filling with hope.

  “It has to be,” he said. “I could not care so much for a being made by the Monsuda. You are a real person, Jeannie.”

  Her eyes widened until they were almost perfectly round. “Do you care about me, Kren? As a friend or—or—”

  When she stuttered, hope and anxiety mixing freely on her face, Kren could think of only one answer. His mouth found hers.

  The kiss began softly, the barest whisper of contact. Gradually, so that he himself could hardly detect how, he pressed closer for more. His lips rubbed hers with strengthening hunger. He closed his eyes, feeling her soft breasts against his chest, the fragile bones where his arms wrapped her up, the tickle of her feathery hair against his skin. She leaned into him, her body molding against his, at once firm and yielding.

  His hearts drummed in his chest, double bass beats that quickened to make blood roar in his ears. When his tongue peeked out for a taste, she opened to it, letting it sweep in to taste her sweetness. He groaned and tightened his grip on her.

  Her warmth suffused him, bringing fire in his belly and lower. He scorched with need.

  She clung to him, her hands running over his spine. Her flimsy little nails dragged down either side of his torso, the edges sharp. He could have armored his skin to prevent her from scratching him, but the primitive feel of her marking him heightened his excitement. He left his flesh soft, letting the tiny scoring add to the inferno raging within.

  In response, he strengthened his kiss, showing her that despite her aggressive actions, he was the stronger of the two. He made her bend to him as he devoured her mouth, feeding at her like a starving man. She softened to his demanding embrace, moaning as he took what he wanted, writhing against him as if seeking to somehow get closer despite the fact they were plastered against each other.

  He had the urge to take her there and then, all the way, the way they both desired. She’d begged him to do so for many nights now. Yet physical claiming was only a small part of what his soul cried for. It was perhaps the least important consideration, though it rode him with sadistic fury.

  It was to the vital essence of who he was that Kren bowed. He dismissed the clamoring of the flesh. He broke the kiss and looked down at Jeannie.

  Her eyes were glazed, her face soft as she stared at him. “Kren,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t stop.”

  “Hush,” he said. He lifted her, draping her trembling body in his arms and carrying her to the upholstered bench, laying her down. “Easy. Trust me.”

  Unease drifted over her face for a moment, then cleared. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”

  * * *

  Trust me.

  His words pulled her from the insistent clamoring of desire that demanded they make love right now. She could never fully trust anyone. Especially not an alien, and especially not when it came to Kren going against the Assembly. But for what was about to happen—what she hoped would happen—she wanted to believe in him for that.

  Kren hovered over her, her striped alien host and warder. He stared down as he traced her face with one finger, as if he was memorizing her. He leaned down and seized her mouth in another devouring kiss.

  He tasted of things wild and untamed, of rampant nature, of storms and tempests. His hands moved down her body as he kissed her, the changing number of fingers not so much charting her curves as asserting rights over them. His bold touch found her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flaring of her hips. His grip knotted at the hem of her dress, and he separated from her to pull it off over her head. He only took a moment to look at her again, her eyes half-closed in surrender, her swollen lips parted with their combined wetness coating them. Then he was back, his kiss demanding her submission. She gave it to him.

  His body covered hers, his lust between her thighs. Her legs spread open, allowing him entrance. She wrapped them around his firm, round buttocks, demanding he enter. He chuckled against her lips, but far from a sound of humor, it was dark and dangerous.

  He kissed his way down her body, the movement breaking her hold on him as if casting aside a paper chain. His hot mouth settled on a breast, sending a bolt of lightning from nipple to her wet sex. She cried out as he sucked her flesh deep into his mouth, his tongue playing over the diamond-hard tip all the while. A crescendo of pleasure barreled from her breast to resound throughout her body. She yelled again.

  He moved to the other breast. This time he bit her, his blunt front teeth leaving light dimples. Jeannie felt marked, as if Kren had announced his mastery to any and all who would dare to question his right to her.

  His, her mind acknowledged. She dove into the possession without a moment’s qua
lm.

  He suckled at her breast, soothing the unimportant ache from his bite. Then he resumed his journey down, his tongue sweeping down the slight indentation that ran from her breastbone to her navel. Gooseflesh erupted over her skin as his warm, wet mouth progressed lower and lower.

  Jeannie’s mind was in chaos as he paused at the juncture of her thighs. Kren inhaled deeply, his eight-pointed starburst pupils widening to devour the irises. He gazed on her womanhood with a hunger so primal that she had a moment’s impulse to run away. She had no strength to do so, however. She lay weak and trembling beneath him, her body vulnerable to whatever carnage he chose to visit on her.

  His hands moved beneath her buttocks, scooping and bringing her up to his mouth. His face dipped down, and the questing velvet of his tongue flattened over her softest flesh. He licked from her entrance all the way up to her clitoris, where he gave the swelling bud a flick. Jeannie’s insides melted in pleasure.

  Kren kept licking her like that, over and over. His eyes were half closed, his expression blissful as he tasted the honey he drew from her shaking body. Jeannie writhed in a maelstrom of sensation, her hips rising and falling in helpless reaction to his leisurely feasting. None of her jerks thwarted Kren’s efforts to leave no morsel of flesh untasted. He took his time, his attentions to the petals of her sex thorough.

  Need heightened until Jeannie’s every breath sobbed. Kren’s grip kept her from escaping, though rapture was a sanity-stealing madness that she couldn’t bear another moment of. Her pleas for mercy went unheeded as Kren continued to torment her with unrelieved ecstasy. She was helpless to make him stop, and she screamed when his mouth captured her swollen clit and his tongue battered it with rapid flicks. Climax was almost upon her when he released the frantic nubbin to shove his tongue deep inside her. She hovered at the edge of destruction as he slowly, painfully drew back for another round of delicious torture.