Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances

by Margo Bond Collins

  “No,” Jace said at last. The universe Sam and Rayna had shown him wasn’t the bright, shiny future he’d envisioned in his childish dreams. It was much more like the nightmarish visions that had plagued Ida Mickens. The wide galaxy was full of life, but like all life it harbored both good and evil in equal share. His new friends hadn’t told him everything about their struggle; there was still too much he needed to know. But in his heart he knew they were telling the truth.

  And something within him demanded he honor Ida’s memory. “I want to help. What do you need me to do?”

  “I knew it!” Rayna squeezed her husband’s arm.

  He smiled at her and back at Jace. “Ray’s instincts are seldom wrong. If you’re as smart as she says you are, all we need for you to do is keep your eyes open. Do your job as deputy, follow the leads that come up knowing what you know now. We’ll give you a way to contact us, and when you need our help, you’ll use it. When we have intel, we’ll contact you. Simple.”

  Jace nodded. “I can do that.” He’d been doing that. If he’d been working for Rescue all along, God knows how many lives he’d have already saved. “I’m in. Now tell me everything.”

  ***

  Sara paced beside the Jeep, the hard-frosted grass slippery under her feet. It had been more than ten minutes, she knew it had, but she couldn’t follow through on her threat. She couldn’t leave Jace behind, though she knew well enough there was nothing she could do to save him. The beam of light had come out of a black sky and swallowed him up. How was she supposed to run after him into nothingness?

  She stumbled to a stop and stared up at the stars. “Come on, Jace! Come on, come on! Don’t leave me here without you. Now that you’re really mine.” Her throat closed on the last words as tears threatened.

  Then that light split the night again, nearly blinding her. She fell to her knees, covering her head until the ridge went dark again. And when she looked up, she saw a single figure stood in the field.

  “Jace?” A whisper. Then louder. “Jace?” She stood and started in his direction.

  He ran toward her. “Sara, you okay?”

  She jumped into his arms, not caring whether he was ready for it or not. “Jace McCoy, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll slap the fire outta you!”

  He held her tight, his warm laughter close to her ear. “I don’t expect I’ll ever have cause to do that again, honey.” He eased her to the ground. “We got work to do. But first there’s something I have to ask you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry.” She put up a hand. “I’m not talking. Who’d believe me? You disappear in a flash of light, then you reappear again?” She looked up at him, not sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question. “Did you really see a spaceship?”

  He grinned. “I really did. Rayna’s married to the captain.”

  “Huh.” O-ka-a-a-y.

  “They want me to work for them—not in space, but right here on Earth. That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”

  Something with claws gripped at Sara’s heart. “What?” She stopped, started again and tried to keep her voice from shaking. “They want you to give up your job as deputy? You’d . . . you’d have to leave here?”

  Jace studied her expression, then drew her into his chest. “No, honey. They want me to go on working my job as deputy. Keep on doing what I do, just work with them on the side. Like whenever we have a disappearance like Lydia’s, I call them or they call me and we collaborate on the case. To catch people like John Lee and Tavar Bix.”

  He held her out at arm’s length and smiled at her. “So. I want to ask you if that’s okay. Because I expect I’ll need your help on occasion. Seein’ as how I love you, and I’m asking you to be my wife.”

  Did he just say . . . “Your wife?” She stood back and put her hands on her hips. “Did you just propose to me?” She knew she was being dramatic; she needed time to gather her wits. Her heart was beating double-time, and she could barely breathe.

  Jace grabbed her up. “We’ve known each other all our lives, Sara. And I’ve always known you’re the one for me. It’s about time we made it official, don’t you think? You gonna say yes?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am. And I don’t care if all the aliens in the galaxy descend on this spot tomorrow night, nothing’s gonna keep me from putting that ring on my finger, either.”

  Lydia was still unconscious in the back of the Jeep, so only the stars were witness to what happened next—the kisses that went on for long, delirious minutes, the promises exchanged, the vows made that no one else would ever hear. By the time Sara and Jace came down off that ridge, Sara figured they were married in every way that counts. They could make it official with a Christmas wedding, with some eggnog and few friends to celebrate, but she knew whatever they did to tie the knot would only be a formality.

  They started up the Jeep and followed the track back down the mountain, passing the old Hatfield homeplace where the lights still blazed and the door to the trailer stood wide open.

  Jace stopped to close up and turn off what he could. “Who knows when John Lee will be back,” he said as he climbed behind the wheel.

  “If he’ll be back at all.” Sara couldn’t help a little shiver at the thought of what Rayna and her captain had planned for the man, as much as he deserved it.

  Lydia was beginning to stir and moan a little by the time they returned to the deserted parking lot of the 52 Bar and Grill. But she didn’t protest as Jace and Sara laid her out in the front seat of her car with her purse and keys nearby. Her eyes were still closed and she was breathing deeply as they made their getaway back to the highway.

  Sara’s heart was thumping wildly as they left the scene. “Lord, is that what our Saturday nights are going to be like from now on?”

  Jace looked at her with a grin. “Well, I don’t know, darlin’. This was kinda fun, in a way.”

  She grinned back at him and got as close as she could so she could whisper in his ear. “Yeah. But maybe not every Saturday night.”

  ***

  “I think Jace and Sara will make a great addition to the Rescue team,” Rayna said, snuggling up next to Sam in the bunk in their cabin on the Shadowhawk. “The background check came back clean on both of them.”

  Sam’s forehead wrinkled. “Sara?”

  “His girlfriend. You didn’t meet her. She’s a gutsy one.”

  “Hmm.” Sam wrapped her up and held her close. “Well, I think our own little team did a great job on this particular mission—200 Lucky Ones going home, Tavar Bix on his way back to Hellsmouth. I’m feeling pretty proud of ourselves.”

  His naked chest was puffed out with that pride; Rayna couldn’t help running a hand over the smooth skin. “Yes, and I can think of at least one more way we can celebrate the success of this mission, can’t you?”

  Sam had her on her back in an instant, his lips hovering close to hers. “Why, yes, I believe I can. Our own private party.”

  Rayna grinned up at him. “It is still Saturday night, after all—in Devils Holler, at least.”

  About the Author

  Ida Mickens, Sam Murphy and Rayna Carver Murphy are all introduced in Unchained Memory, Book 1, Interstellar Rescue series, by Donna S. Frelick (INK’d Press, 2015). Rayna and Sam’s own hot SF romance is told in Fools Rush In, Book 3, Interstellar Rescue series (INK’d Press, 2016).

  Donna S. Frelick has been a journalist, a Peace Corps Volunteer and an author of STAR TREK fan fiction. She was an RWA® Golden Heart® Double Finalist in 2012 for the first two novels in her contemporary SFR INTERSTELLAR RESCUE series. She currently lives as part of an intentional community in the mountains of North Carolina.

  Find her online:

  Website: http://donnasfrelick.com

  Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Donna-S.-Frelick/e/B00TSTE06E

  Blog: http://spacefreighters.blogspot.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DonnaSFrelickAuthor

&nbs
p; Twitter: @DonnaSFrelick

  The Solar Express

  Erin Hayes

  Chapter One

  “BUT OUR PEOPLE DON’T EVEN CELEBRATE CHARIS-MUST!”

  “It’s ‘Christmas’, Kear’yl. ‘Christmas’.”

  On the other end of the line, I imagine my Chief Commander father—Op’pa in my native tongue—pinching the bridge of his wide nose in frustration. Mainly because I’m doing the exact same thing right now. My father and I are mirrors of each other—tall, blue-skinned warriors who look after the universe. And we have the exact same mannerisms.

  He continues chiding me, his voice irritated. “It’s what some humans do with their families at the end of every year—”

  “I know what they do for Charis-must.” Even though I still can’t pronounce it right, no matter how many times I say it. Give me an obscure alien language from the far reaches of space and I can master it in a single Planck time. Learning human traditions, however, is another thing entirely.

  Then again, I may have a mental block due to one certain human. That arrogant, cocky son-of-a-py’Vieth.

  “Look, just because you decide to go off and marry one of those human females,” I say, “that doesn’t mean that you have to expect me to play along with your Charis-must family time!”

  “Jessica is your zn’Eppa, Kear’yl.” My father’s voice is low, dangerous. “You’ll treat her with respect.”

  zn’Eppa. That’s what Earthlings call a “stepmother.” The human woman who married my proud Vzekian father. I don’t know what she did to ensnare him, but I’ve spent the last five years trying to avoid all humans at any cost. Backwards, loud, intrusive and self-destructive, they’re one of the species that my kind is protecting, but mostly from themselves. Sure, there are plenty of nice humans, but for the most part, I find them to be tiresome.

  And there is one man who I find to be more infuriating than any other human I’ve met.

  At the thought of him, I fume into my communicator, refusing to back down. “So you’re expecting me to just drop everything I’m doing and fly to Earth to pick up my zn’Ethri and take both of us to meet you on the planet Fl’steri so we can all have a wonderful Charis-must together?”

  “Your stepbrother has a name, you know.”

  I grit my teeth to even spare a thought for that human. “You must think me a fool, Op’pa.”

  I refuse to do it. Refuse. Even though my father is technically my commanding officer and can court martial me for disobedience, I know he won’t follow through with it. He knows some of my feelings on this matter, and if he wants his people to think he’s the fearless leader we believe him to be, then he’d better pay heed.

  I won’t go.

  It was about ten Earthian years ago that my father decided to find another companion after my mother’s death. He found it in the arms of Jessica, a human woman from a place called Coco Beach, Florida. And he brought this woman and her son into our lives. And for ten Earthian years, I’ve hated both Jessica—and her son.

  “Kear’yl.” Instead of getting angry or disciplining me, my father’s voice grows soft. “Your Ep’pa would have wanted you to embrace this chance for happiness.”

  I rub at my eyes. “Please don’t bring Mother into this.” My voice comes out as a whine.

  But my father is relentless. He knows he has me within his grasp. “Your Ep’pa would have wanted you to take some time for yourself.”

  I lick my lips and smooth back the dozen or so appendages that stem from my head. Humans would say they look like dreadlocks, yet they are called headtentacles in a translation from my native tongue. I keep mine in a high ponytail with the ends of the appendages reaching my buttocks.

  “All right,” I say, sounding like I’m being strangled. “All right, I will pick him up.”

  “Good.” I can even hear the smug smile in my father’s voice. “I will see you shortly. Don’t forget, Christmas is December 25th. So be sure to arrive a little earlier. December 21st would be preferred.”

  “You’re following the Earthian calendar now, too?”

  “Kear’yl,” my father warns. “Behave.”

  The line goes dead. I scream at it in frustration and throw the communicator against the wall in my spaceship, the Sli’vier Biel. The broken bits of metal and wires hit the ground in a heap, and I realize that I’m huffing in anger. I take in a deep, shuddering breath and tighten the band around my headtentacles, since I need something to do with my hands rather than break something else.

  I stride back to my captain’s chair and before I take my seat, I straighten any wrinkles out of my skin-tight body armor. A Vzekian warrior must always look presentable. Even if she is alone on her tiny ship.

  Well, almost alone.

  “Your vitals are elevated, Soldier Kear’yl,” a disembodied female voice announces over the loud speaker. My artificial intelligence system and the brain of the Sli’vier Biel is more concerned about my wellbeing than my father is.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say through gritted teeth as I sit down. “Sli’vier?”

  “Yes?” the AI asks.

  “Set course for…,” I nearly gag “…Earth.”

  ***

  “Well, if it isn’t ol’ Medusa-head.”

  I clench my six-fingered hand at that familiar voice sounding from the lavatory of a small apartment in a place called Miami, Florida. It’s a little deeper than when I last heard it. But it still oozes that cocky attitude that has grated on my nerves from the very first moment I met him.

  “You know I have no idea what this ‘M’doosah’ is, Houston,” I grumble, although my cheeks redden at my statement. It’s a very human reaction, and it’s a consequence of my people fraternizing with Earthians. “And that’s really no way to greet the person you’re—as you humans say—‘bumming a ride off of’.”

  Houston, my zn’Ethri, emerges from the lavatory, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen a human, it takes me a while to realize that he’s wet and half-naked, with a fluffy length of cloth wrapped around his waist. The physiology of his body mostly matches mine: two arms, two legs, a torso, and probably reproductive organs somewhere on his body, I’m sure. His blue eyes are as clear as ever, and his wet, unruly brown hair sticks out at all sorts of angles. I try to ignore the heat that’s growing in the pits of my stomachs as I remind myself that his hair does not meet The Space Corps Regulations—he’d be reprimanded.

  Most likely by me.

  His smile is as easy as ever, and he’s drying that wild hair with another one of the fluffy squares of cloth. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just use a dryer.

  “Long time no see, Kear’yl.”

  A deep voice like his is not considered sexy in Vzekian culture, and I cross my arms to look at him. “That was by design.”

  “Aw, you cut me deep,” he chuckles. “You’re saying you’ve been avoiding me, baby sister?”

  “I am not your Oth’ra,” I say, using the Vzekian word for “sister.” I feel the blush in my cheeks. “I’ve been traversing the galaxy, righting the wrongs of the universe and instilling the morality and values of the Space Corps.” About which many humans claim to care, but I have yet to see proof.

  He raises an eyebrow. “And that sudden drive to do so wasn’t because our parents got married?”

  That’s exactly what happened, but I’m not about to admit it. “And what have you been doing in all that time?”

  He shrugs. “Just been hanging out. You know, the usual.”

  “Surely you have some sort of occupation?” He’s a bit of a deadbeat, but I know that my father would never agree to supplementing his income while he’s not working.

  “Yep.” He gives me a devastating smile. “I’m a mechanic.”

  I try to not act like it’s a big deal. In my investigations of Earthian culture, I read a few pieces of their literature in a genre known as “romance”. I know that mechanics in those stories are always gorgeous, virile young men. Quite unlike Houston. “So long a
s you can take care of yourself and aren’t a burden to our parents.”

  An emotion passes over his face, one that I can’t read. Humans have such expressive faces; I can’t learn them all. It’s quickly masked though, and he has that smile on his lips again.

  “Oh, I can take care of myself,” he says in a strange tone. “And I can have a look up your undercarriage and see what’s gotten up your ass. I am a mechanic after all.”

  I blink in reply, failing to see why my anus has anything to do with what we’ve been talking about. “I believe you’ve insulted me, but I can’t figure out why or what it means.”

  He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, Medusa Head. Let’s just have this family Christmas vacation and then we’ll go back to our own separate lives. Like you always wanted.”

  He turns his back to me, and I wonder what I’ve done or said to be the brunt of his ire. I massage my temples, then tighten the band around my headtentacles. I can’t get rid of this feeling in my chest, like my two hearts are constricting, and…breaking? I know it’s not possible, but it certainly feels that way.

  Houston’s right. The sooner we get this Charis-must holiday over with, the sooner we can get back to some semblance of normal.

  Chapter Two

  “YOU FLY AROUND THE GALAXY IN THIS THING?”

  Houston hefts his bag over his shoulder as he walks to the underside of the Sli’vier Biel in the landing bay. I feel an odd sense of protectiveness towards my personal property. The Sli’vier Biel and I have been through space battles, pirates, asteroid belts, near-death experiences, and everything in between. She may be held together with spare parts and a lot of elbow grease, and while certain systems such as her solar panels don’t work, she and I have always gotten along.