“Not only will these implant the knowledge directly,” adds Tamrys, “you will be able to use them to communicate with Dominar leadership to answer any questions you may have. The nanites are also capable of analyzing and enhancing your physical health. In the future, we expect all humans will use nanites for a variety of purposes.”
“You want us putting your machines in our bodies?” asks Kapoor. “How do we know they won’t be used to manipulate us? Or spy on us? How do we know you’re honest?”
“For all we know, those will kill us!” someone else shouts from the audience.
Tamrys shakes his head. “They won’t. You’re going to have to learn to trust us…” he starts to say.
“Because if they’re here to kill us, we can’t stop them,” I finish, grabbing one of the injectors from the case.
Pulling up the sleeve of my suit jacket, I press the device against my bare skin and feel a tiny pinch. Nothing happens for a few seconds, but then the nanites reach my brain. The sensation reminds me of all the lights in a major city turning on, dozens of blocks at a time, at the end of a total blackout. I can feel the data flooding my mind—it’s almost overwhelming, but the dizziness passes after a moment.
The strangest part is that I don’t have to process the new information—I understand everything as if I’ve always known it. “Seems fine to me,” I tell the others.
“You’re pretty bold for a human, aren’t you, Ms. Marchessault?” says Tamrys, stepping down from the podium and heading toward me. “First the peace summit, now this. You don’t flinch easily.”
“Thanks,” I say, trying to remain impassive, though I grin a little. How often does one get such a compliment from an alien?
“I was hoping to find a human interested in attending a special event with me,” Tamrys adds. “Are you free?”
“An event? What is it?” I ask, intrigued by the idea. If I want to continue my life’s work, being a part of the Dominars’ Galactic Preservation Initiative might be the answer—and Tamrys could be the one to get me in the door.
He smiles. “I am breaking ground on my official headquarters here on Earth—and not too far from this very spot. If you’d like to attend, I can take you there myself.”
Breaking ground? It sounds like a boring photo op, but the ride there should be valuable—I can get some alone time with Tamrys and see where I fit into this puzzle.
“I’d be delighted,” I say, returning his smile.
“Excellent. I’m finished here.” He turns back to the audience, then gestures toward the nanites. “Take them or leave them; they won’t be forced on you. Thank you for listening to me; I look forward to working with you all to make Earth a better place.”
He points me toward the exit, and we go.
* * *
Waiting outside for us is a Dominar shuttle. Sleek, reflective, and about the size of a bus, it levitates slightly off the ground. Tamrys helps me in, his strong hand gently pulling me inside. I have little doubt if he wanted to carry me, he could lift me as easily as I could pick up a phone.
Once we’re ready, the shuttle lifts off into the air, flying high above the city. We ascend so quickly I whoop in shock—it’s like we’ve been shot out of a cannon. Yet, unlike in a human vehicle, I feel none of the tremendous acceleration or change in pressure.
“Pretty fast, huh?” says Tamrys, chuckling.
“Yeah, a little bit,” I reply, watching as we head south. It takes less than a minute to reach Upper New York Bay, where the ship quickly stops, hovering over the water.
Tamrys looks out the window and grins. “Here we are.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Where’s the site?”
Flashing pearly white teeth in amusement, he points down. “Watch. We’re about to start building it.”
Still confused, I look to the bay, now noticing an unusual absence of ships. Then something starts to happen: an enormous ripple fans out from a single point on the surface. After a second, there’s another ripple—a faster one that quickly catches the first. Soon more and more chop through the water, forming bubbles and clouds of vapor, making the water look like it’s boiling.
“Consul, what’s going on?” I ask, starting to worry. What could he possibly be doing?
“Relax, pet. You’ll miss the best part.”
I turn back to the water, and then I see it: something big emerges from the surface, rising steadily into the air. At first it looks like a massive black pyramid, but then the slanted edges level into walls—an obelisk. My jaw drops as the structure grows taller and taller, and gradually a little wider, until it looms above the bay. I’ve been to most of the world’s tallest buildings, from the Burj Khalifa in Dubai to the Shanghai Tower, and this alien structure would dwarf any of them.
“How did you… where did it come from… what the hell?”
Tamrys laughs, shaking his head, then points up in the air. “Bountiful Harvest, the ship directly overhead, can construct a skyscraper from orbit. For lack of a better word, they beam it down, bit by bit. It’s going to build several of these, all over the world. Most will be off-shore, but a few will be placed on land.”
“Holy shit,” I mutter. We knew the Dominars had incredibly advanced technology, but this is on another level.
When the water below stops frothing, the shuttle brings us in for a landing on a small platform sticking out of the new building’s side.
“Come along, Ms. Marchessault,” he says as the shuttle’s door opens. “I’ll give you the tour, and then we’ll talk. I have an opportunity for you that I think you’ll like.”
Chapter Three
Tamrys
Sabine’s hesitation comes and goes so quickly, it would have been easy to miss.
“Okay,” she says. “I’d like that.”
I try reading her expression, wondering at the source of her almost imperceptible delay. It isn’t nerves—she hides those so well, it’s second nature to her by now. Clearly that comes with the territory, of being at the top of her field, given so much responsibility.
Calculation.
That’s why she paused. She’s weighing her options. What is she working out in that incredible mind of hers?
According to Sabine’s dossier, she graduated from a top university ahead of schedule and with prestigious honors. She has achieved much in very little time—less than a third of her expected lifespan. She’s ambitious. Even now, faced with the utterly unknowable, she angles to benefit from the situation.
What is her agenda? Why is she so eager to accept an invitation from an alien, a supremely powerful being who could be capable of anything? More important, are the goals she believes to be important the same as the desires in her heart?
Figuring out Sabine Marchessault is going to be fun.
If I were without scruples, I could simply probe her brain through her nanites, but the goal is to build trust with her, and humanity as a whole. Plus, I don’t need to spy on her to crack her code. I’m more than capable of analyzing behavior and predicting motivations. She may prove to be more difficult than some, but that will only make my success more satisfying.
“Follow me,” I tell her, pointing us toward a lift. We ride it up several stories, ascending to the top of the Spire; she gazes out the car’s clear sides at the city. From here it looks peaceful, as things always do from great distances.
However, building the Spire has no doubt caused a stir—it’s not every day an alien building sprouts out of the bay in a matter of minutes. The media is almost certainly reporting on it now, directing news helicopters in for a closer look.
While Sabine stares out at the world below, I steal a few glances at her. Having watched video of the recent peace summit, I’ve seen her before, but her beauty is far more striking in person. A bespoke maroon business suit perfectly conforms to her figure, accentuating a healthy bust, a narrow stomach, and wide hips. She drapes her long, dark hair down her left shoulder, almost entirely covering a silver chain necklace. A strong
jaw squares a face made extra serious thanks to her sharp, thin eyebrows and scarlet lips.
The lift doors open up to a short corridor, which lets us out on the other side of the building, a balcony overlooking the world from several thousand feet in the air. Sabine pretends not to be impressed, but her eyes twinkle with a bit of wonder.
“This is truly a beautiful world,” I say, raising my voice over the wind. With a thought, I raise an energy barrier to cut down on the icy current. It shimmers in the air once, then disappears.
“It is,” Sabine agrees. “So, Consul Tamrys, what venture have you brought me here to propose?”
Straight to business then.
“Tell me, Ms. Marchessault: which of your world’s nations have you visited?”
“It would be faster to list off the ones I haven’t,” she replies.
“Fair enough,” I chuckle. “So you’d consider yourself well-versed in Earth’s many cultures, traditions, and mentalities, correct?”
She nods. “I’m fluent in eleven languages and have studied world history extensively at university. Personally, my recent family heritage can trace its roots to seven countries across three continents.”
“A citizen of the world, as they say.”
“I’d like to think so, yes. But I’m sure you have a file on me and you know all this already. What do you have in mind that requires a person with my background?”
I turn to her and look into her eyes. “A partnership. If the Dominars are to rule peacefully, our peoples will have to forge a bond of friendship. This has to start somewhere, and with whom better than the executive consul? What I need is someone to represent humanity in this endeavor—ideally someone with your education and experience, who is also famous and trusted among humans. You fit that description perfectly. Plus, on a personal note, you intrigue me. Regardless of whether or not you accept this proposal officially, I’d be eager to learn more about you.”
Sabine nods slowly, as if considering her options. However, after less than a second she tosses her head up to look me in the eyes. “I’ll do it.”
Wow. Though I expected her to accept, the speed of her response surprises me. She’s driven, that’s for sure.
“Excellent. Come inside, I promised you a tour.”
We take the lift down to one of the areas about to be constructed; when we get out, all she sees is a wide open hall, but after a minute the walls, furniture, and floor plan begin to grow.
“Damn,” she mutters, watching as the architecture materializes. “That’s incredible.”
It takes an act of will not to give away how adorable she seems. Primitive species have the cutest reactions to the most ordinary things. “Tell me about yourself,” I say before I crack a grin.
Her lips twist incredulously. “You already know all about me. I want to know about you! How about a quid pro quo?”
My nanites translate the phrase for me. Amused, I reply, “I’m sure there’s plenty to know about you that can’t be read in a file, Ms. Marchessault. But of course, we can take turns.”
“Fine,” she says, blushing a little as she runs a hand along an ornate banister that didn’t exist a minute ago. “What would you like to know first?”
“Well, how did you become interested in diplomacy as a profession?”
She sighs, climbing a set of stairs to an upper deck, the basis for a developing atrium. “I was born into it, essentially. Growing up, my parents told me again and again I would do great things with my life. My father is a world-class violinist, and sometimes I traveled with him when he’d tour. Before she retired, my mother taught anthropology at Oxford—one of the most esteemed in her field, with hundreds of publications to her credit. As an only child, the onus fell on me to carry out their legacy.”
“And world peace would be quite the way to honor them,” I say, measuring a new respect for her. Duty to one’s parents is one of humanity’s more admirable traits, and she set her sights pretty high. “To solve the foremost challenge in all of your civilization’s history…”
She stops, turning to me. “I’ve always understood that factors outside my control could, and most likely would, derail my progress. I didn’t think one of those factors would be an alien invasion. As a result, my life’s work is in your hands.”
“I suppose it is,” I say, trying to imagine being in such a position.
“So, my turn: what are your plans for our partnership?”
I shake my head and stroll down the deck, watching the construction: a gigantic decorative piece, a model of the Dominus space station, is assembling high above the atrium. “That’s work, and there’ll be ample time to discuss it later. Ask me something personal.”
Sabine shifts her jaw and clicks her tongue. “Fine. Why did you, Executive Consul Tamrys, personally come to Earth? Is this just a mission for you, or did you choose to be here?”
It’s a fair question, I suppose. Pointing us back to the lift, we move on as I explain, “Technically, as a member of the Dominars’ Galactic Preservation Initiative, I am here on an official mission. However, I volunteered for this assignment the moment I found out Earth had been deemed in need of an emergency intervention.”
She starts to ask what I mean, but then stops—I assume she’s realizing her nanites have provided her with that information, detailing how a Dominar agent scouting out Earth had decided an immediate invasion would be required to prevent human society from driving itself extinct.
“So why did you volunteer?” she says instead.
Technically it should be my turn, but I let it go. “I’ve been fond of Earth for centuries. I’ve visited many times, though it’s been perhaps two hundred years since I last had the opportunity.”
Her eyes widen and her breath catches. “That long? The world was a completely different place!”
I grin, enjoying her shock. “From a human perspective, of course. But to me, it’s not that different. Humanity has progressed rapidly in a short time, but to us you’re still quite primitive.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry,” I laugh. “It’s not a judgment, just a statement of fact. Development takes time—Dominars have been around millions of years longer. And I should tell you, the reason I used to visit Earth is that I like primitive species. To me, they’re fascinating. Mortality creates a sense of urgency in the lives of such people—everyone wants to accomplish so much in so little time. It’s a trait I admire.”
She smiles, accepting my explanation. “That’s an interesting perspective. I wouldn’t have imagined it.”
We ride the lift down several stories, arriving on a floor developing a series of halls of various sizes. Featuring tiered seating and demonstration spaces, they will become classrooms and audience chambers. “This will be a center for Dominar-human discourse,” I say, imagining rooms full of members of both races. “Here we will hold open forums, instructional seminars, and even entertainment programs. The Spire is not just for the Dominars—in the future, all will be welcome.”
“It sounds very nice,” she says, observing the construction.
Now it’s definitely my turn.
“Sabine, what did you think when you first heard a real live alien invasion had started?”
Once again, she briefly hesitates, weighing her answers. It’s a loaded question, of course.
“I was very happy,” she replies.
“Really?”
She’s thinking very carefully now, on her guard, but she hides it fairly well—her movements remain natural and fluid; her shoulders stay low and relaxed. This is an area where she’s had lots of practice.
“Yes, really. I knew that you were here to help,” she says, sounding mostly honest. Mostly.
“Come on, be straight with me,” I say, stopping us. “You won’t hurt my feelings.”
She turns toward the lift, perhaps trying to steer us back, so I follow her.
“At first I was very excited, truly,” she answers. “I had been working all my life to someh
ow unite the world, and I thought first contact with aliens could be the ultimate unifying event in our history. However, the last few months have been… eye-opening.”
“How so?” I ask, sad to see her smile fade into a slight scowl.
“Nothing changed. Governments continued to squabble. The aliens were just one more issue to fight over. Every nation wanted to be the one that came out on top, or to at least survive once the dust settled. I’d never been more disappointed.”
I nod, anger rising in my gut on her behalf. “I can imagine. But what about the people? My reports show they’re handling the situation surprisingly well. There have been remarkable decreases in violent incidents, petty crime, and acts of hate.”
Sabine’s face brightens and she briefly flicks her tongue through her lips. “Everyone thinks you’re watching us, so they’ve been on their best behavior.”
“Ha!” I grunt, glad to see her smiling again. “Yes, that tends to happen when we arrive on the scene. But that’s a good sign, Sabine. Don’t give up hope. It sounds like Earth’s problems stem from inadequate leadership. That’s something we can change. It’s why we’re here. Together, we can get humanity back on track.”
I reach out my hand to her, and this time she doesn’t hesitate—she takes it, looking up into my eyes. She’s so beautiful. I stare back, not realizing I’m squeezing her hand too hard until she starts to wince.
“Sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “So, you assumed the aliens would be benevolent?” I ask quickly.
Shaking off my faux pas, she replies, “Yes. But if they weren’t, I’d do what I could to unite humanity against them.”
“I’m sure you would have succeeded,” I say, leading us back to the lift.
“I still might,” she quips. “Now, let me ask, do you really think my colleagues at the U.N. will accept the organization’s dissolution, just because you said so?”
“Of course.” I direct the lift to bring us back upward—this time, all the way to the top. “I expect humans to obey my demands. Failure to do so will result in serious consequences.”
His Human Mate (Captives of the Dominars Book 3) Page 2
