Carapace (Aggressor Queen Book 1)

by Davyne DeSye

  “And I you, friend,” Fatchk responds, lower arms encircling Samuel, while his upper arms remain thrown back, a new mix of human affection and alien respect. “I hope your injuries are healing.”

  “Yes,” Samuel answers and, with a final pound on Fatchk’s back, leads the alien to the empty chair next to his.

  I lower my feet to the floor in preparation of standing to greet Nestra, but she rushes around the side of the table toward me. “Please, sister Khara, do not rise.” She places her remaining lower hand and her healed stump on my forearms, and my pleasure that she doesn’t hesitate to share with me overrides my sorrow at the reminder of her injury. Neither of us escaped our battle whole and yet we’re both more whole for what we’ve come through together.

  Nestra lowers herself to the large chair at my side, fingers resting on my arm for another long moment. The warmth of her friendship flows into me, but there’s also an undercurrent of tension.

  “We’re here. Tell me the purpose of this meeting,” I say. My own tension rises in response to Nestra’s. She removes her slim fingers from my arm.

  “The new queen we have begun is sick, like Queen Tal.”

  My apprehension skyrockets with my pulse.

  “She cannot be permitted to survive,” Fatchk adds and I’m embarrassed by the huffing sigh that escapes me with the instant release of anxiety.

  “We have contacted the home planet,” Nestra says. I feel like a rollercoaster car as my tension rises again. I imagine more aliens coming to subjugate our newly re-won planet, although Nestra has assured me this won’t be the case. But why the tension in Nestra, then?

  As the silence stretches, I look to my three companions at the table. All their eyes are on me.

  “Yes?” I swallow in a dry throat and try to sit up straighter, which is difficult in my semi-reclined position.

  “We have a favor to ask of you, sister Khara,” Nestra says.

  We? I wait for Nestra to continue.

  “As we have said,” she says, “the new queen developing in the crèche cannot be allowed to mature to adulthood.”

  “Yeah.” Why repeat this?

  “Our people need a queen,” she continues.

  I’m going to go crazy if Nestra doesn’t get to the point. She is stepping her way toward something but I wish she’d just get there. I take a deep breath and center myself, remembering how much I love my friend.

  “As you also know, only a sister can be queen.” My maddening impatience keeps me from asking her again why she can’t be the new queen, since she was grown from a queen egg. I doubt I’d understand her explanation any better this time than in past conversations – something about her body having been altered by Queen Tal, something about being infertile, and politics. All I know or care about is that my kind friend would be an excellent ruler of her people.

  “Our people – home planet – has requested that in the interim, while a new queen is in transit here… you will be queen of our people on this planet. That you act as ruler of my people and our ambassador to the human leaders.”

  After a moment trying to rearrange her words into something that makes sense, I say, “What?”

  “You are female and to my people I have declared you sister,” Nestra explains. “Queen Tal was an aberration among my people. Sick, as I have explained to you. My people wish to make this gesture of peace in the hopes our combined peoples can live and work together on this planet, and on others. However, when the new queen arrives, if humans determine we must, she will lead us in leaving your planet – after helping you repair the damage we have caused.” Nestra says this last bit in a rush of words, as if still feeling the need to reassure me of their desire to help us rebuild. This reassurance is unnecessary considering how much they’ve already done.

  I’m exhilarated with the idea of humans having our planet to ourselves again, but I glance at Fatchk and Samuel and back to Nestra, and I can’t imagine not having my friends – my alien friends – in my life. Then another thought thrills through me as my mind runs over her words again.

  “Other planets?” I ask. It never occurred to me the aliens could give us star flight. I’ve been too focused for too long on surviving, and then on the glory of having control of our own planet back in our hands.

  “If your people wish it,” Nestra answers.

  After a moment of swirling thoughts, I say, “But I couldn’t possibly . . . I don’t know anything about . . . .” I turn to Samuel for help. He’s smiling at me. I’m tempted to punch him in the shoulder, and determined to ask him later if he knew about this in advance. He doesn’t seem as dumbfounded as I am at this request.

  “You speak their language as well as anybody,” Samuel says.

  “You share more than all but a very few humans,” Nestra says.

  I look to Fatchk, who until now has said nothing.

  “Our people ask you to assist in healing this terrible, terrible breach,” Fatchk says.

  My mind comes back to the same objections. I know nothing about governing – I’ve barely managed to handle my own day-to-day life – and almost nothing about the aliens they’re asking me to govern. I stare at the table, not seeing it, but terrified at what they’re asking of me. I can’t do it.

  Nestra again rests her fingers on my wrist. Her warmth and friendship and trust flow into me.

  “If you wish it, you may choose advisors,” Nestra says, and again I’m flooded with warm, comforting feelings.

  I take a deep breath, thinking of all the positive ramifications of cooperation between our species. And with this friend by my side, I can do anything. I let my breath out in slow stream, and then smile, and say, “I choose you, Sister Nestra.”

  Nestra moves her fingerless limb toward Fatchk, who locks his wrist with her arm. I can feel through my connection with Nestra her affection for her bond-friend. Fatchk reaches his free lower arm toward Samuel. Samuel places one hand on Fatchk’s arm and the other on my leg, and together we make a circle of comfort and friendship that overrides my trepidation and insecurity.

  “Come,” Nestra says. “Meet your people.”

  “What! Now?” I almost yell the questions, and sit forward in my chair with a jerk. My feet fall from the low stool, and I emit a small squeak at the jarring pain. Now I understand why this conference was held in the capitol building. I am filled with nauseous tension.

  Nestra and Fatchk’s chittering laughter mixes with Samuel’s booming guffaw. Nestra floods me with her love, and the laughter continues until I’m laughing with them, helpless.

  “Tomorrow – or the next day – will be soon enough, I think,” says Nestra, still chirruping with laughter.

  “Good!” I say. And then in a moment of girlish nervousness, “I need to do something with my hair!”

  ***

  The new queen will soon be on Earth, and I’m more than ready to be done with the incredible work of governing a species I don’t understand – it’s only been possible because of Nestra. To the rulers of the still disorganized and largely depopulated North America, I’m ambassador to the aliens. I’ve had to work to overcome the natural human dislike and distrust of the aliens, but their gentle nature and Herculean efforts at helping humans rebuild have accomplished at least as much as my efforts.

  “Come to bed,” Samuel says to me from across the room, his voice rumbling with a burr that tells me he’s already been dozing.

  I look once more at the screen in front of me and decide I can’t do anything more this evening. I curl into his arms, happy, and feel him hunch closer to press against my back and buttocks. His hand rubs my distended abdomen, and I feel a kick and then a crazy roll from our growing child.

  I recall the time, not so long ago, I thought it the worst possible crime to bring a child into this world. Now it’s our duty as well as my pleasure. I put my hands on top of Samuel’s and stroke with him.

  “Things have certainly changed,” I say.

  “What?” Samuel nuzzles into my hair.

/>   “Let’s have lots of babies,” I answer, happy in the knowledge they will be coming into a better, gentler world. The world Samuel and I – and Nestra – have given them.

  I wait for Samuel’s answer. He snores gently into my ear.

  - END -

  Thank you for taking the time to read

  Carapace!

  If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on Amazon!

  If you want more…

  Check out Soap Bubble Dreams and Other Distortions,

  an anthology of my science fiction and fantasy.

  Acknowledgements

  I owe thanks to a lot of people in putting this book together.

  First, I’d like to thank Pat LoBrutto, a New York editorial consultant who told me early into things that my writing was great and that I should finish this book. Knowing that he had spent decades in the publishing houses in New York City, this was a tremendous encouragement! I’m sure he doesn’t remember me, but I will remember him always and thank him for his kind words.

  Next, I’d like to thank the most wonderful readers in the world, Bob Simon, Evie Phallon, Dana McAuley, Thomas O’Meara and Stephen Reid. They read novel this chapter by chapter, told me where I had screwed up and helped me fix where I’d gone wrong. They helped make this book better and they get credit for a lot of improvements. Any errors still existing are mine.

  Finally, I want to thank my family – my parents and my kids – for all the support they give me (not just in my writing but in life) and for all their tolerance when I am babbling on and on about the latest “life” I’m living in my head. Most of all, my thanks go to my amazing husband who reads every word I write on a day by day basis, and is my first and best reader. And that’s only the smallest of the things that make him wonderful.

  Thank you all!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  Davyne DeSye grew up traveling the world with her diplomat parents, and has lived in Germany, Bolivia, Somalia, Afghanistan, Japan, Korea, and Mexico (and has visited plenty of others).

  After several career choices (including computer programming and fine art photography!), she finally settled into the law and was an attorney for over twenty years, although writing has always been her first true love.

  Davyne lives with her husband and cats and together they always look forward to the visits of their five children.

  Interests: Learning new things, reading, writing, cooking, laughing...

  Loves: Intriguing mouths, good food, books that make her wish she didn't have to stop, Christmas, beautiful shoes, and my family.

  For more information, please visit Davyne at www.davyne.com.