Starmen

by Raven Willow-Wood

  * * *

  New Concepts Publishing

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Raven Willow-Wood

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

  * * *

  StarMen

  By

  Raven Willow-Wood

  © copyright by Raven Willow-Wood

  Cover art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright January 2007

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  "Damn, it sure is hot!” Jody said, wiping furiously at the seemingly never-ending streams of sweat that poured profusely from her untidy upswept ponytail. The unforgiving July sun beat down on Jody and Berny relentlessly, as if it, too, were on the payroll of the island health retreat, just part of the torture package that only women desperately searching for beauty would seek out and pay for. The two women, who at first glance appeared to be sisters, sat rather dejectedly on a barely-big-enough-for-your-ass wooden bench beneath a small oak tree that provided only the illusion of shade, its young, frail limbs as thin as the bodies of the health instructors.

  Like raisins drying in the sun, Jody's and Berny's long overworked bodies were almost completely drained of all energy. Their hair color, now slightly matted with hard-earned sweat, was very similar, but still two different shades of brown, Jody's a deep chestnut and Berny's a dark auburn. They were also of comparable size, each standing around 5'6", weight, an amount that they would never divulge, and both had an unfashionably voluptuous body, not overweight but not the wildly popular waif look that everyone was striving for these days. The real difference between the two twenty-six year old women, whose mothers had also been childhood friends, lay in their personalities. Jody, the older by a few weeks, was the stronger-willed, more sensible of the two, while Bernice, ‘Berny', was the romantic, impulsive, carefree risk-taker.

  "If my spandex bike shorts creep any further up my ass, they're going to be flossing my teeth,” Jody complained loudly, yanking angrily at the bottom hem of her shorts, her brow furrowing in her consternation. Her mouth turned slightly downward, which brought her dimples into play, belying her irritation. Removing her shorts from inappropriate places wasn't just becoming a habit since she had arrived on the island, it was the next thing to moronic, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, as if this time the shorts would somehow magically stay in place. She sighed, thinking that it was painfully obvious that exercise clothes were not made for people who needed to get in shape but for those who were already in shape.

  "I know what you mean, this brand should be called Cookie Cutter because it feels like it's cutting out shapes. Unfortunately, not tasty ones,” Berny said with distaste, her gaze roaming over her tightly constricted bulges, her displeasure evident at the sight her expensive workout clothes created.

  "Don't talk about food, Berny, especially not cookies. What I wouldn't give for a bar of cookie dough, straight out of the fridge, or a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, or even better yet, freshly baked glazed doughnuts covered in chocolate and sprinkles,” Jody said, staring off into space with a dreamy smile as she absentmindedly brushed some stray chestnut hairs out of her eyes that had escaped her haphazard hairdo.

  "I'd rather have a huge plate of spaghetti with three croissants, light and flaky, dripping butter,” Berny said enthusiastically, bouncing on the bench and clapping her hands excitedly at the thought of real food, her already rosy cheeks becoming more flushed with the images. “No, not croissants. Some thick garlic bread covered with butter and a side of sauce for dipping."

  "If you could have anything, you'd want spaghetti? What about Cajun-fried chicken? I miss that spicy, crunchy chicken skin more than I miss my car,” Jody whined, and then paused, thinking about all the walking she had done since she had first checked in to the island resort. “Well ... almost,” she said, laughing a little out loud.

  "Oh, I know! This damn low-carb diet is killing me. Of course, it's running fast competition with this hellhole we stuck ourselves on for two months. Who the hell would name an island that tortures women thin Paradise Island anyway?” Berny grumbled, an irritated scowl contorting her usually sunny face.

  Jody looked at her friend's expression and laughed. “I'm sure it was a man."

  "What's terrible about that is that you're probably right,” Berny said, now smiling at the irony of it all.

  "Alright. Let's get a move on. If we don't hurry up, we'll be late for our kickboxing class. I wouldn't put it past them to send out a search party. It probably wouldn't be the first time they've had to go looking for people. Wouldn't it be sad if they found us laying in the sand somewhere, our over-exercised, starved bodies motionless, hands outstretched toward the water and freedom, a farewell cruel world note drawn in the sand."

  The women laughed so hard together at the images this last statement brought to mind that they had more than a little difficulty rising. A sort of giggly haze, probably the direct result of the harsh tropical sun and the depletion of their reserve body fat, numbed their limbs and brains. Grudgingly, and with more than a little groaning, they resumed their trek through the woods.

  * * * *

  Vincent and Miroc frowned with a mixture of pity and anger as they observed the two alien women on the ship's life monitor. It had been almost a full month (Earth time) since they had docked in observation (quiet) mode on the outskirts of Earth's atmosphere so as to remain undetected while they continued their studies of the species. In all that time, they had been watching these two particular specimens, so entirely transfixed by the gruesome tragedy being played out before them that they could not bring themselves to move on, to maintain their scientific aloofness.

  As long time members of the scientific community on their home planet that was dedicated to discovering intelligent life forms throughout the universe and recording everything they could observe about each species’ customs and social structure, they had traversed the depths of space, but never had they seen a clan of this intellectual level of advancement abuse their own in such a way.

  "It is terrible what these two beautiful creatures have been enduring at the hands of their very own people,” Vincent said gruffly, shaking his head in angry disbelief. “And yet they can still find the strength within themselves to laugh. What a truly noble quality, finding hope and solace in the company of each other when they are in such dire straits. I believe I am ... moved."

  Miroc nodded, trying hard to hide his dismay behind a façade of objectivity and failing. “Wish we could help them,” he mumbled, more thinking aloud than anything else.

  The comment caught Vincent's full attention. He tore his gaze away from the monitor and stared at his friend and colleague in surprise for several moments, but as the words settled fully in his mind a sense of jubilation began to take hold of him.

  "Why not?” he responded enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up at the novel idea that Miroc had just presented. He slapped his friend on the back heartily and then shook him playfully by the shoulder. “By all that's holy, that's it! We'll go and rescue them. It's the right thing to do,” Vincent said, the excitement coursing through him causing his voice to get
louder and louder as he completed his train of thought.

  Miroc gaped at Vincent blankly, horror settling over him as the certainty grew in him that Vincent thought he had suggested breaking the law.

  "Uh ... uh. What I meant was that it was a damned shame we couldn't interfere, but of course it's out of the question since the laws of the observatory prohibit direct contact or interference in any way with the social development of the species we observe. Our license would be revoked and then where would we be? Stuck in a class room, teaching youths who were as bored as we were instead of exploring,” Miroc said, becoming more outraged as he spoke and the full consequences of the suggestion occurred to him.

  It didn't escape him that, in the time Miroc had known him, Vincent had developed a particularly nasty habit of bending the laws to the verge of breaking, and yet somehow Vincent always managed to convince him that it was his own idea when the truth was he wasn't the least interested in taking that sort of risk, not without good reason anyway.

  "But you're right. I'm glad you thought of it because it's downright criminal not to interfere in a case like this! And we must do it now, while they are away from the pack,” Vincent's tone would brook no argument.

  "It occurs to me, though, that this species is not interstellar. We must handle this situation delicately, be sure to take all precautions. They'll almost certainly be extremely disturbed to discover that we are. Beyond that, they have accepted their fate. Likely, they have been manipulated into believing they somehow deserve it and will ultimately resist our efforts to rescue them.

  "We will have to trick them. I'm not happy about it either,” he added at the look on Miroc ‘s face, “but sometimes this sort of thing is necessary when dealing with a species that can't understand that one is trying to be helpful."

  "Trick them?” Miroc echoed in outrage. “You mean to trap them, like baiting a wild animal?"

  Vincent frowned thoughtfully at his colleague, propping a hand beneath his chin in deliberation. “That's not a bad idea, actually. They have a very good understanding. I'm sure we can explain things satisfactorily once we have them safely away from their tormentors. We'll have to use cunning to lure them, however."

  "You might not think it's a bad idea, but it wasn't my idea!” Miroc snarled indignantly, wondering how the hell Vincent had managed to twist his objection into a suggestion.

  "Don't be so modest! It's very unbecoming to fish for compliments,” Vincent said testily. “I gave you credit, didn't I?"

  "I don't want credit!” Miroc growled. “If you are determined to do this, then I want it on the record that it wasn't my idea at all!"

  Vincent stared at Miroc in disbelief. “You want me to take credit for your idea? That wouldn't be ethical, not at all. No, no. I couldn't. Really, I couldn't,” Vincent said shaking his head at the very suggestion.

  He looked away from Miroc at that and slipped into deep thought as he stared hard at the monitor that still displayed the images of the two female subjects they were discussing, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin as he searched for an answer.

  Suddenly, it came to him. He slapped Miroc on the back again, hard, “I've got it! They were pining over the food they have been deprived of. Do you think that would do the trick?"

  Miroc glared at his friend, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “That's a revolting idea and demeaning besides. They are beautiful, intelligent creatures, and they have already been horribly mistreated. To dangle food in front of their noses when they are suffering so is just plain cruel!"

  "I'm not just going to dangle it,” Vincent ground out, outraged at such a suggestion. “We'll let them have whatever they like once we have them safe."

  "We? What do you mean we?"

  Vincent shrugged. “I thought you wouldn't mind if I at least took part of the credit for the rescue. It wasn't my idea, I know, but I'm a willing participant."

  "Which means I will also be blamed for corrupting my colleague!” Miroc exclaimed angrily. It occurred to him abruptly that all the while they'd been arguing, Vincent had been working feverishly over the control console.

  "There!” Vincent announced, smiling complacently. “It's done!"

  Miroc stared at him blankly. “What's done?"

  "The trap is set. Now.... “His large hands worked quickly over the array of buttons and gizmos until two large vertical rays of white light shone behind them in the transport area. Grabbing Miroc by the arm, he quickly escorted him to the second of the two portal rays, positioned him in the right spot, and then stepped onto his own.

  "Loincloth,” he pointed out to Miroc, who looked a little stunned by the speed of events, as he removed his own and tossed it aside. “It won't go with you, you know."

  * * * *

  Jody and Berny hadn't been speed walking long when they rounded a curve in the trail that led back to the resort. Both women stopped as abruptly as if they'd hit a brick wall, staring at the sight before them in total disbelief. Jody glanced at Berny and discovered she was looking at her with pretty much the same look of doubt.

  The look on her face assured Jody that she was also looking at something that couldn't possibly be there. Frowning, she turned to see if it was still there. It must be an illusion brought about by their weakened state, Jody decided.

  A buffet was laid out on a table in the middle of the path. She might have put it down to heat stroke except delectable aromas rose from the beautifully arranged, steaming dishes. All the food the women had just been discussing and more lay wantonly before them like a well-planned seduction.

  Jody, her now wide eyes never leaving the food before her, leaned ever so slightly toward her friend, “Berny, do you see what I see?” Jody asked in a conspiratorial whisper, her tongue unconsciously whipping out to wet her lips in anticipation as she spoke.

  "I think I do, that is if you see the most indecently delectable feast I've ever seen before in my life just sitting on a table in the middle of the woods,” Berny said slowly, a look of dawning wonder on her face.

  "Well, that's exactly what it looks like to me,” Jody said. “Do you think it's real? I mean, maybe it's a mirage, or, even worse, maybe it's a trick."

  "A trick?” Berny asked, her wide eyes innocent and her mouth forming a cute “O” in her confusion, the difficulty to process the heaven before her and a question too much for her brain at the moment.

  "Yes, a trick. What if the staff here at the island plans this sort of thing to tempt members so they'll know who the cheaters are? They've got their reputation to worry about, after all, and if we go back as fat as when we started nobody is going to be willing to pay their obscene prices,” Jody said, looking around suspiciously as if she would spy someone waiting in the bushes ready to ambush them should they cheat on their diet by diving into the food. She was so intent on looking around for someone laying in wait for them to make an indiscretion, she failed to notice Berny hall ass over to the table and start digging in. Horrified at the trouble Berny might have placed them both in, Jody frantically raced to Berny's side and attempted to stop her from devouring everything in sight.

  "Berny!” Jody shouted as she grabbed Berny's wrists and began to none too gently shake her friend back to reality. “What the hell do you think you're doing? They could be watching us right this minute. They'll toss us off the island without a refund.” Jody broke off suddenly as a blinding white light engulfed both of them.

  They froze like deer in headlights, their eyes wide with the childish feeling of fear, as if they had been caught raiding the cookie jar by their parents again. Berny's hands were still plunged in food, one now-greasy hand still desperately clutching a doughnut, her other wrist locked in the death grip of her friend.

  "Drop it, Berny!” Jody growled low between her gritted teeth. “Maybe they didn't see anything,” she added hopefully before she began to shake Berny's hand furiously in an effort to dislodge the doughnut before it was seen.

  Berny wasn't letting go of the doughnut, t
hough, and her whole body shook with Jody's efforts.

  Caught up in trying to wrestle over the food, neither woman noticed the two very large figures approach, not until two huge shadows fell over them. Both women stopped abruptly and looked up from the food in slow-motion unison, their mouths slowly dropping into a gape as they discovered the sources blocking the light, a full body goose-bump feeling overcoming them.

  "Berny,” Jody whispered, her voice a little hoarse with fear now, “I don't think that's the camp counselors."

  The only sound that escaped Berny's throat was a small strangled noise, the cream filling mustache on her upper lip from the last doughnut she had consumed completely forgotten.

  Bedazzled as they were by the light, as transfixed as they were by the knowledge of their guilt and the reality of being caught, as the two enormous figures came closer, it became very apparent to both Jody and Berny that they were two tall muscular men—two very handsome, tall, muscular ... naked men!

  With all that gorgeous, bare man-meat, several pounding heartbeats passed before it dawned on Jody that one, the one that had long, beautiful black hair, bore a striking resemblance to an ex-wrestler, now big-time movie star she had always fantasized about. The other man, who was slightly shorter and stockier, had no hair at all and reminded her strongly of the silky, shaved-headed, action actor that gave her heart palpitations every time he smiled on the big screen.

  "Pinch me,” she muttered weakly to Berny.

  Berny merely turned her head slowly and continued to gape at her, her eyes flickering momentarily from the men to her friend before returning to the men as if her eyeball control stick was in their hands.

  "I've got sunstroke,” Jody said with a die away air. “My brains are scrambled."

  "I've died and gone to heaven,” Berny murmured breathily. “Do you think they're looking at us or the food?"

  "The food, moron!” Jody snapped irritably. “Men don't look at us! They look through us."