Generations of Teelan Box Set

by G. E. Stills

  Allan’s response was a quickly suppressed chuckle.

  ****

  Pla’ton hid his grin. Even though spoken in a whisper, he’d heard Becky’s promise to Allan. He liked Becky and he hoped she liked him in return. Even though she was of another species, she was the first woman he had felt attracted to in a long time.

  His gaze shifted from Allan to Becky’s back as she stormed from the balcony and took quick strides to the elevator leaving no doubt in his mind she was upset. He had asked Allan if it was acceptable to ask her out to dinner and Allan had told him that it was not only acceptable, but would be nice. It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to ask Becky out and now this. Allan had angered her. Evidently, Allan was tired of waiting for him to make a move.

  “I think I pissed her off,” Allan chuckled.

  “I think you’re right. And now that you’ve stirred her up you expect me to take that angry woman out to eat?” he asked.

  “Yep.” Allan chuckled. “We have a word to describe a woman like her, spitfire. It means highly emotional and hot tempered.”

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Shaking his head, he left Allan standing on the balcony and strode to the elevator.

  Arriving on the nineteenth floor, he walked down the hall and entered his room to get ready. When finished, Pla’ton closed the door behind him and glanced down the hallway. Becky was waiting at the elevator with her arms folded under her breasts. Not saying a word, she spun quickly and stepped into the car to wait.

  He joined her, the doors closed and the car started its journey down. Glancing to his side, Pla’ton appraised her. Becky had removed the tight bun that normally confined her blonde hair. Instead, it hung softly on her shoulders. She had painted her lips a glossy white. The off-white dress covered her completely from just below her neck to just below mid-thigh contrasting wonderfully with her ebony skin. It was tight enough to accent every inch of her delicious looking curves. For a short person, Becky had long muscular looking legs.

  “I hope you don’t gnaw my face off for saying this, Becky, but you look fabulous.”

  Her reaction took him by complete surprise. She burst into laughter. Controlling her outburst she said, “I think you meant to say, bite my head off instead of gnaw my face. I’m not going to bite your head off and thank you for the compliment, Pla’ton.” She studied him openly from head to toe. “You look pretty damn fine, yourself.”

  ****

  He escorted her to the waiting car, he provided the address to the driver and they sped away. Becky spent much of the trip gazing out the window at the city she had only viewed from the balcony. At other times, she let her gaze drift over Pla’ton. A tan colored vest made of some soft looking material covered his otherwise bare upper torso. A single gold chain held the front together leaving her a delicious view of his broad chest and muscular biceps. His britches were made of the same material and rested low on his hips. An item much like a shoestring was tied at the waist holding them up. Some type of gauntlets covered his forearms from wrist to elbow.

  All eyes fixed on them when they strolled into the restaurant. Although most of the Mistia had heard about their alien visitors, very few had seen them up close.

  The host led them to a clear glass table with a single blue candle burning in the center. A blue velvet like material hung down on the sides of the table. Pla’ton held her chair and scooted it in when she sat. “My, my, such a gentleman,” she commented.

  “Such a beautiful lady,” he returned. She was certain her green eyes gleamed in appreciation of yet another compliment.

  The male waiter appeared and recited the menu items offered. “I have no idea what to order,” she said.

  “Would you allow me to order for both of us?” he asked.

  “Please do.”

  He rattled off the order and the waiter walked away to return a few moments later with two snifters and a bottle of wine. The waiter stood patiently at the side of the table.

  “I have no idea what your customs are.” Becky glanced around nervously. “And I feel like I’m on display.”

  Pla’ton chuckled. “You are. A person with black skin is completely unknown here and I’m certain everyone assumes you are one of our alien visitors. Will you do as I ask?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Within reason,” she qualified. “I mean if you tell me to strip, I won’t.” She winked at him.

  He laughed. “Which hand do you normally use to eat?”

  “My right.”

  “Fine. Place your right hand on the table.”

  She did. He wrapped his six-digit hand around her wrist and instructed her to grasp his. Pla’ton lifted their joined hands and wrists from the table. Using a blue ribbon, the waiter tied their hands together and then poured two glasses of wine into their goblets. He then set the bottle on the table.

  “Now this should be interesting,” She giggled. “I can’t eat worth a crap with my left hand.”

  “Wait,” he advised. “You’re education on our customs is just starting.”

  Before she could lift her glass, the waiter started filling the table with bowls. Each one contained cubes of meat, vegetables or sauces.

  “I don’t have any eating utensils or a plate,” she told Pla’ton.

  Grinning he picked up a cube of meat, dipped it in the sauce and held it to her lips. “Open your mouth.”

  When she did, he placed the morsel on her tongue. While she chewed, he explained. “I feed you and give you drinks and you do the same to me.” He picked up a cloth napkin and dabbed at her lips.

  She swallowed. “Tell me that this is not done at every restaurant or at home.”

  “It isn’t. This one is special. It is supposed to be romantic.”

  She cocked her head. “Are you trying to romance me, Pla’ton?”

  “Maybe. Would I be out of line if I did?”

  She picked up a vegetable cube, dipped it in what appeared to be a cheese sauce and placed it to his lips. “I’m flattered you consider me, an alien woman, worthy of romancing.”

  “Oh you’re most certainly worthy. I wasn’t joking when I said you look stunning.”

  Her cheeks heated and her stomach did a flip. The men from her past had never made her feel the way Pla’ton did. She glanced down through the clear table and saw that her dress had ridden up on her thighs. With one hand tied, she had little means of pulling it down. Glancing up she noted that Pla’ton was gazing at her amply exposed legs too.

  “I need a large sip of wine please,” she said. “I feel terribly exposed.”

  “I like very much what I’m seeing.” Pla’ton winked.

  Through the clear glass, she saw the huge bulge in his pants. “I can tell.” She squeezed her legs together in an attempt to quell the ache she suddenly felt at her core. The leisurely evening progressed, the bowls emptied and they finished the bottle of wine. Her leaning forward to take the bites Pla’ton fed her, caused her dress to rise scandalously high. Squirming only made it move higher.

  Becky leaned back and sighed. “I can’t take another bite. I’m stuffed and a little tipsy. Besides, I need to stand up and pull my dress down before I expose my panties for everyone to see.”

  “Because of the cloth on the side of the table no one could see your panties except me.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ve seen glimpses of the dainty looking item. I’m not complaining.”

  “Damn it, Pla’ton, you’re embarrassing me.” She squirmed more. Glancing down she saw, to her consternation, her wiggling had only succeeded in fully exposing her lacy black panties. “Untie my hand. We’re leaving…now!”

  He chuckled removed the bow and waited to pull back her chair until she had tugged down her dress. They strolled from the restaurant and he helped her into the waiting car.

  They drove through the neon lighted city in silence. “Becky.”

&nb
sp; She turned to face him. Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her lips briefly. When he pulled away it left her nearly breathless. “I’ve wanted to do it for a long time, but haven’t dared. I guess the wine gave me courage. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  Sparks raced up and down her spine and they had nothing to do with her lightning ability. She smiled. “Will your increase in courage permit you to do it again? A longer one this time?”

  He kissed her again while his arms went around her. Her arms wrapped around his neck holding him tight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  At work, she and Pla’ton treated each other completely professional, presenting no hint of their growing affection. On days off, they were almost inseparable. Becky leaned on the balcony wall gazing down at the city. She was taking a break from mingling with the twenty guests inside. Tonight’s party was a farewell to the Me’galith. Their new embassy was complete. Tomorrow a freight ship would arrive with six hundred robots on board. Things on Ormel were about to shift into high gear. Major changes are in store for the Mistia.

  Her thoughts drifted to the first time she and Pla’ton made love. A smile marched across her face. Damn he makes love as wonderfully as he looks.

  Butterflies.

  Pla’ton approached from behind and leaned against the balcony wall. “I just checked on the guards.”

  “Everything in order?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Did I tell you that you look fantastic tonight?”

  She rolled her eyes and thought of the dress uniform she wore at Allan and Marsha’s insistence. A white blouse, black tie, black skirt and a black dress jacket with silver lapels and silver buttons in addition to her numerous ribbons and citations.

  “Yeah right. I’m wearing my dress uniform and so are you.” She feasted her eyes on his brown leather like uniform with a jacket much like hers. It had medals and ribbons over his left breast. She glanced around to make certain they were alone and ran her tongue over her lips. “I would much rather you weren’t dressed at all.”

  “And I would love to touch that sweet soft ass of yours right now.”

  “You’re a deliciously naughty man.” She clinked the cubes in her empty glass. “Now behave and go fix us a drink.”

  “You started it by saying you wished I was naked.”

  “Yeah I know. Shame on me. Go fix the drinks.”

  Pla’ton took her glass. Glancing over her shoulder, Becky admired his back as he strolled away. She saw that only the three Mistia ambassadors, two guests, Allan and Marsha remained. She sighed. Finally the party is winding down.

  She heard the sound of whirring helicopter blades approach. Good that must be the Mistia ambassadors’ ride. Shove the last two guests out, put Allan and Marsha to bed and call it a night. And tomorrow is my day off. Look out Pla’ton here I come.

  The warm feeling creeping through her vanished with the sound of gunfire from above. Her communication implant cracked to life with Marty’s voice. “Becky we’re under attack by a large force. One of Pla’ton’s men is dead and the other is wounded. So am I. We’ll attempt to hold the door and stall.”

  Becky burst into action racing from the balcony. From the corner of her eye, she saw Pla’ton holding his radio. Doubtless getting the same report. She grabbed Allan and Marsha by the hands and jerked them toward the elevator.

  “Wha.––” Allan started.

  “We’re under attack. No time to explain. To the elevator now!” She broke into a run pulling the two Ambassadors behind her.

  Beside her, Pla’ton shoved the three Mistia ambassadors in the same direction.

  “James. You heard Marty.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m climbing the steps now to reinforce him.”

  The two guests stood motionless like deer caught in headlights. “To the elevator. Move!” she yelled.

  She shoved Allan and Marsha into the car roughly then turning, helped Pla’ton do the same with the Mistia ambassadors. “What’s the situation Marty,” she asked.

  No answer.

  “Marty.”

  Gunfire erupted at the head of the stairs. Then James’s body came tumbling down the steps. Pla’ton shoved the two guests into the elevator car. With his back still turned, Pla’ton crumpled to the floor beside her.

  “Oh God.”

  Something stung her shoulder and her vision began to haze.

  “Tranquilizer darts,” Randy shouted in her head.

  With extreme effort, she pressed the nineteen, then the door close buttons before dropping to her knees. The metal partitions closed on the startled faces of Allan and the others. She turned to face a number of masked men, raised her hand and then blackness closed in.

  ****

  “Becky, Becky,” Randy’s voice seemed to hammer in her skull.

  “I’m awake, Randy.”

  “Good. I’ve been trying to wake you for some time.”

  Becky became more aware. There was some type of material stuffed in her mouth and a strong metallic taste threatened to make her retch. The right side of her head throbbed with pain and her hair was matted to her skin. Her hands and legs were bound. Her jacket and blouse were gone.

  “Where are we, Randy?”

  “Your eyes have been closed so our whereabouts is unknown.”

  “Can you furnish any information, Randy?”

  “We were transported first by helicopter, then by vehicle to wherever we are. Someplace underground I would estimate.”

  “I agree we are underground. I smell mustiness. I think I’m laying on a stone or concrete floor judging from its unyielding nature and cold against my bare back and legs.”

  “I’m going to contact my team, if any of them are alive and if I can’t reach them I’ll summon help from the ships above.”

  “Don’t bother trying, Becky. You communication chip has been removed. That is why you have such pain in the side of your face.”

  “What?”

  “Only a few Mistia know about them.” A sinking thought occurred to her. “Pla’ton? He can’t be a part of this.”

  “I don’t think he is. At least the information I gathered from the snippets of conversation I overheard, I think he is a prisoner too.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Unknown at this time.”

  “I’m going to open my eyes a little and look around.” She opened her eyes a mere crack and shifted them to each side as well as up and down. It was pitch black and silent as a tomb. Becky opened her eyes wider. Nothing, only inkiness. In vain, she tried to force the cloth out of her mouth with her tongue. Her hands, tied behind her back, were getting numb.

  A muffled groan followed by heavy breathing came from her right. “I’m not alone here. Someone else is beside me.” Becky turned her head to face the sound and search the darkness.

  Nothing.

  Then two male voices accompanied by dim illumination approached from her left. In the subdued light, she saw it was Pla’ton on her right, similarly bound and gagged. His eyes were closed and his shirt and jacket were gone. Quickly, she scanned the room, then turned her head to face the ceiling. They were in some type of cell with bars on her left. The other three walls appeared to be made of natural rock. She snapped her eyes closed.

  No sense letting my captors know I’m awake until I have further information.

  “So that’s the alien bitch,” the first male voice said.

  “Yeah that’s her. She doesn’t look so tough now,” the second answered.

  “Is she awake yet?”

  “No she’s still out. That trank is pretty strong stuff.”

  “Too bad we weren’t able to get the alien ambassadors, then we’d have a stronger negotiating tool.”

  “The bitch and that bastard Pla’ton saw to that. Even though we took them by surprise, they s
till managed to get them on the elevator.”

  “It didn’t help we had to kill those other two aliens to put a halt to those deadly ray pistols of theirs. We lost a lot of men doing that.”

  “By the time we killed them, we had too few people left to attempt taking floor nineteen. That’s where Pla’ton had the most men so I’m certain that’s where the ambassadors went.”

  The creak and then squeal of metal told her their cell door had been opened. Footsteps approached.

  “Well time to wake sleeping beauty up. Damn, will you look at that diamond in her navel? I’m half tempted to rip the damn thing out and sell it.”

  “Better not. The boss said not to injure her without his say so. Digging that communication implant out of her face caused enough damage.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a damn good thing the boss knew about it or we’d have the whole pack of alien bastards down on our asses by now.”

  “What if the aliens refuse to do what we ask?”

  “Well then you will get your wish about ripping out that diamond, or cutting off fingers and toes.” The man squeezed her right breast. “Or cutting one of these off and sending it to her friends to let them know we mean business.”

  The resounding slap across the right side of her face sent shooting pains through her head. Becky opened her eyes and glared up at the masked face looking down at her. In addition to the mask, he wore a black cape that covered him from the neck down completely hiding his features.

  “Time to wake up,” he said. “The boss has some questions to ask.”

  He ripped the cloth from her mouth and she saw it was the remains of her blouse. Grabbing of a hank of her hair, he jerked her to a sitting position sending more pain shooting through her head.

  “Not so damn tough without your ray pistol are you, babe?”

  Just untie my hands and you’ll see how damn tough I am, asshole. You have no idea what I’m capable of.

  “Fuck you,” she said.

  “Maybe later,” he answered.