Alina Popescu
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Warning! This is a gay science fiction romance novella. If you don’t like men falling in love with other men, stop now and move on to reading something else. There are a few sexual situations, some of them explicit. There is occasional swearing as well.
Angel’s Feather
Flyer Chronicles, Book One
Copyright © 2017 Alina Popescu
http://alina-popescu.com
All rights reserved.
Cover art by 8th floor studio
We are forsaken. Banished. Forgotten. Earth has become the planet of the doomed and it is a fitting punishment. We broke all our promises, all our alliances with both our kind and with the other species. We lied, we stole, we cheated, until one day, the Universe had enough. Bound to earth, we raise our fists and threaten the skies that are forever closed to us.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Part I - Ascent
Part II – Descent
Part III – Rebirth
Meet Alina Popescu
More from Alina Popescu
Part I - Ascent
“FLYERS!” THE FRIGHTENED voice pierced the air and shot straight to my heart, gripping and squeezing it tightly. My breath hitched and I dropped the tool I was holding.
What we used to know as angels became Earth’s wardens. Flyers, as they call themselves, are the universe’s enforcers. They make sure we stay in our jail and that we obey the rules. We can build anything, do anything, destroy anything, as long as it is not an attempt to build new spaceships or weapons that could damage the spherical force field prison that keeps us locked in here.
“Damn it all to hell.” The wrench was lodged between the rusty parts of the old tractor I was trying to repair. Our village’s hope for better crops, it was, and I’d just gotten something stuck in it. Served me right for thinking all it took to become a mechanic was an eidetic memory. I had no other choice though. Most engineers and mechanics were either hiding, always on the run, or dead. Why they all insisted on building spaceships and trying to leave Earth was beyond me. We had other pressing needs, exploring the universe should have been our last concern.
“Hurry up, kid. It’s the Punisher.” My uncle gripped my shoulder and tried to make me move. He needn’t worry, I’d never miss a chance to see Michael.
Michael, the archangel of long lost tales of divinity, is the leader of the squad of flyers that guards us. They have set up camp on Saturn and use their all-seeing eyes to monitor our every move. Everyone hates the flyers, more so Michael. Most don’t even remember his name, he’s just referred to as the Punisher. Whenever someone does something against the rules enforced upon us, Michael and his angel guards come down to Earth and exert punishment. It’s always very public, broadcast to the furthest corners still inhabited. He comes, he crushes, he leaves. Each time, people add to their hate for him.
I’d first seen Michael when I was sixteen. Glorious and beautiful, a mass of manly muscles moving with the grace of a dancer and the precision of a predator, he walked into our home to drag my father to the town square. He had been working on an old dropship that hadn’t flown in centuries. He told the angel over and over again it was just a plane, but failed to fool him. We all knew what he was building and my mother had begged him to stop. Every day until Michael arrived.
Michael crushed his neck in front of me and as my father’s soul left his body, Michael raised his gaze and bore into me. I looked into those blank eyes and saw beyond the façade, right through to the disappointment, the inability to understand why we insisted on breaking every rule, the pain of having to take another life. I cried as I watched my father die and it wasn’t for him. It was for Michael and his struggle, for my mother who was hysterical, for my race which was doomed to repeat its history until there was no one left to survive our mistakes.
No one understood why I was crying. My family and those in our town thought I was mourning the loss of my father. Michael certainly thought the same, I could tell. The only silver lining was the fact that I could actually see into the flyer, understand his reasons and his pain. I felt blessed and a little less ashamed of being born human.
Michael laid my father on the ground, almost gently, sighing and shaking his head. “I hope you’ve all learned your lesson. I doubt it, but I wish to never return and take another life.” His voice was the warmest I’d ever heard. Deep, caressing my very soul, it enthralled me. He then turned, opening his wings, a huge expanse of white feathers laced with gold, sparkling in the morning sun. He batted them slowly, lifting himself higher and higher until he was gone.
I stood there, watching him long after he was nothing but a glittering dot on the clear sky, my eyes watering but refusing to look away. “You will have your revenge,” my uncle said, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. I still did not look away and certainly didn’t say anything. There was no point in contradicting him, he would never understand. They would never understand, and because of that, humanity will never change.
YEARS HAD GONE BY since that first encounter and I’d grown out of that confused kid. As my uncle and I made our way through the distressed villagers, I did my best to seem worried or scared, but the truth was my heart was thumping frantically. I could hear it resonating in my ears. I was starved for another glimpse into Michael’s eyes, to once again see what he kept shielded from all humans. It was tragically beautiful and my drug of choice.
“Greetings,” Michael said when the entire village was gathered around him. His voice, although void of any inflexions, was still the warmest I’d ever heard. It wrapped me in a cocoon of delight, caressing my soul and making my spirits soar with pleasure. “I have news of Marcus. He’s been found, apprehended, and executed. His body will be delivered to you shortly.”
“You mean you murdered him, right? Fucking angels,” my uncle said, sneering at Michael and the other flyers that flanked him.
“Did I now?” The corner of his mouth twitched, the shadow of a smile moving it upwards. “I am no angel, human. Those are figments of your imagination. I’m not part of any Heavenly Host and no god has created me to watch over Earth. I’d rather be anywhere else.”
Slowly, Michael turned his head, taking in everyone who had gathered in the small square in the heart of our village. His move stopped when he noticed me next to my uncle. He held my gaze, lowering his head a little and clenching his fists against his strong thighs. The leathers seemed painted on his legs, so did the knee-high boots he wore. And the expanse of bare skin covering his torso always left me breathless.
“What do you think, Adam? Was it murder?” The words were barely above whispering, but everyone heard them and all eyes of the village were upon me. My uncle took a step to his right, his shoulder brushing against mine. I knew it was his way of pledging silent support, but all I wanted was for him to move back, not to touch me. I felt his hate and anger poisoning me and I wanted none of it.
Michael had never addressed me and my brain was running at a million miles a minute. I could almost feel the electric sparks of my synapses as I frantically searched for enough power within me to keep breathing, prevent myself for swooning, and also form a few words to respond.
“No,” I pushed out hoarsely. �
�It was just punishment for breaking the rules.” My voice grew stronger with every word and I straightened my back, looking right back at him, every gate to my mind and soul open for his scrutiny. Not that he’d ever look. I did though, I looked within him and saw the glimmer of hope inside. “We are not supposed to build spaceships and we are never allowed to leave Earth.”
Michael nodded, and then turned on his heel, walking away from the dead silent crowd.
“Fucking bastard! Forcing you to repeat their alien laws after having killed your father in front of your mother and his entire family. He has no respect for our pain.” It wasn’t a new litany, but today of all days it grated me more than it usually did.
“Uncle, why should Michael care when my father clearly didn’t? If he loved us, if he was worried about what his death would do to Mother, he would have stopped when she asked him.”
My uncle’s eyes darkened, his face twisting in an ugly snarl. “Ungrateful bastard! Your father must be ashamed of you. He did everything for you!”
“For me?” I couldn’t stifle the cold laughter so I let it bathe me. “If he wanted to do something for me, he should have worked harder to put food on the table and clothes on my back. Mend the land and get the crops to thrive. How would flying elsewhere help me?”
The strike came out of nowhere. My uncle was fast for an old man. The sharp pain spread through my now burning cheek as I struggled to push up from where I’d fallen. Before I could, my uncle was all over me, pushing, hitting, and yelling in my face. “Ungrateful little prick! You should have been stillborn. A shame to your father and our family name, you are!”
“Let the boy go,” Michael said in a steady voice. The sound of it made me feel safe, sending tingles of happiness through my reeling mind. The pain of the hits subsided and I knew no more of it will come. At least not today.
“This is not your business, damned beast. You cannot interfere,” my uncle said, releasing me enough to twist his upper body and glare at Michael.
“I am not required to interfere, true. I choose to,” the flyer said, tilting his head and smiling coldly at my uncle. “Do you wish to find out who of us prevails if you challenge me, mortal?”
My uncle swore under his breath and slapped me one more time before doing as Michael had requested and letting me go.
“I am not a boy,” I grumbled as I dusted myself off, refusing to look at Michael. I was afraid he’d realize just how scared I was. I had no clue about fighting and it was the only thing my uncle knew how to do right. He joked about being the village’s sheriff and protector, but he was nothing more than a bully. His wife’s and kids’ bruises were testament to that.
A low chuckle pulled me out of my train of thought and had me staring at Michael, mouth gapping. I’d seen him smile, although it was a forced, cold expression, but I’d never heard that sound. It was the most beautiful music my ears had ever heard. I wondered what would happen to me if he ever laughed.
“You are quite right,” he said, bowing slightly. “You have become a man, Adam.”
“Well, yeah, not like I should get any credit for it. It’s how nature works.” I rubbed my sweaty palms up and down my thighs, trying to calm down enough to pay attention to everything that was happening. I hated the photographic nature of my memory. Remembering everything exactly as it was, no distortions, was rarely a blessing. At that moment, though, I was grateful for it. I could later find solace somewhere and replay the scene of Michael chuckling as many times as I wanted to.
“You’re different from them,” the flyer said simply.
“No, I’m just a man like any other. There’s nothing different or special about me.” I shrugged and looked anywhere but at Michael. He was too close, his tall frame towering over me, my eyes level with his chest, his foreign scent invading my entire being.
“I expected you to hate me. To be the first in line to rebel.”
“Why?” I made the mistake of looking up and got lost in his eyes. I latched onto that spark of hope that I’d never seen within him before today. Beyond the disappointment and despair, it flickered softly, pushing him impossibly closer to me.
“Because I killed your father right in front of you. Why is it that you don’t hate me? Hate the flyers like your entire race does?” Michael tilted his head, staring into my eyes as if he was trying to yank the answers out of me.
“None of the punishments we’ve been given are anything but well deserved. Yet we never learn and instead of being grateful, we make it our mission to fight them and break all the rules. I don’t think my species realizes the other races could have wiped us out just as easily. We’re just screwing up our last chance.”
I felt tears burning in my eyes and gasped in shock. I blinked them away, trying to make sense of the hopelessness and sadness that I felt.
Michael raised his hand slowly and his thumb brushed off the one sour droplet that had escaped. He brought the digit to his lips and licked the tear off it, closing his eyes as he tasted it.
“I wonder if they’d still beat you if they knew how you cry for them,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.
“I don’t cry for all of them!” I had no idea why I was shouting, but the thought of crying for my father, my uncle, and everyone like them made me boil with anger. “I cry for my mother, for the orphaned children, for those who only wish for a better life. I cry for those who are destroyed, crushed by human anger and defiance.”
I felt his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me to his chest. If it weren’t for how my brain worked, how my senses helped record and file everything, or for how dark and gloomy my dreams were, I would have sworn I was sleeping. As undeniable realization hit me, I melted in Michael’s arms, my face soaking the cool caress of his chest. His large wings tightened around me, the feathers brushing all the tears and anger away. They looked metallic from afar, strong enough to shield the flyer from any weapon, yet they were so soft against my skin, I just had to sigh and close my eyes, basking in the new sensations.
“I wish they were all like you,” he whispered in my hair, the warmth of his breath making me tingle all over.
I wish you were mine. I might have been startled out of my mind by his actions, overwhelmed like I’d never been before, but I still knew that was a thought better left unsaid. Michael was a flyer, they did not belong with us humans. Suddenly choking with shame and a sensation of filth, of being tainted, I pushed myself away from Michael and turned to leave.
“Thank you, Adam,” he said. He grabbed my shoulder, stopping my retreat and I shuddered under his strong touch. “Thank you for speaking your mind today.”
“You have nothing to thank me for. I do that all the time.” I shook his hand off, succumbing to the utter disgust with myself that was flooding my mind and ran back to my decrepit garage, hoping that damned old tractor would make me feel better. If I worked on it, helped the village, maybe I’d forget how dirty and twisted I was to want a flyer like that.
No, this time I wouldn’t go home tired and restless. I wouldn’t lock myself in my room without having anything for dinner. I wouldn’t take a cold shower in hopes of calming my raging hormones. I wouldn’t then bite into my pillow as I’d furiously masturbate, images of Michael’s muscular torso and his golden skin plaguing my mind. I wouldn’t fantasize about his deep blue eyes pinning me down while his full lips would devour me. I wouldn’t almost feel his dark, curly locks of hair brushing my skin as he’d kiss me all over.
I had the largest collection of digital movies and TV shows on the planet. I’d been collecting them since I was barely able to speak properly. They’d stopped making them a while before the Fall, but somehow they’d survived. It was probably because humans had just locked down libraries, not impressed with their old technology, or their data banks. The one thing I remembered from those movies was that extremely smart men were not driven by their hormones. They wouldn’t turn into a pile of need when they’d see someone they found attractive. They were all cool and collected
and borderline asexual. Maybe I wasn’t as smart as I’d always thought. Maybe I only had an accurate memory, perfect recall. Or maybe I’d just watched the wrong movies.
I wished like hell I’d been more like those characters. Or at least want someone closer to my level. Another human, perhaps? Michael was as untouchable as the fake angels in our religious books. He came, he punished, he left. Worse, none of the flyers had ever taken a human lover. I doubted they’d even have a romp in the hay with any of us. Why soil themselves with the lowest of the universe’s dwellers?
Was Michael with any of the other flyers? Maybe as I fantasized about him, he’d enact everything I only dreamed of with one of the others of his species. Maybe he’d also noticed how I reacted to him every time and he’d laugh about it, regaling his lover with what I imagined was a warm, deep laughter that I’d only caught a glimpse of.
I sighed and dropped the tools, it was pointless to even try. My mind saw nothing but Michael right now. Going home to help Mother with dinner would be a far better use of my time. Then I’d help her clean, maybe clean the whole house myself. Then stay up all night reading about engines, tractors, and mechanics. I needed more information to fix this damned metal beast.
I left the garage and started my winding walk home. The houses in the village were made of what scraps had been saved from the destroyed megalopolises of the past. We used wind and solar energy to power everything. The machines we used to cook and clean and wash were still functional, we’d gotten really good at fixing them and keeping them going. I chuckled, thinking of how we’d had to reshape what had been built for quick replacement. Somewhere in our past, our main concern had been to get the newer, shinier toy.
We had a team of villagers that went to search through the ruins of the lost cities and brought back whatever stood a chance of being reused. The chemicals and nuclear residue had cleared in the centuries since Earth’s demise, with what I suspect was some under the table help from other species, that they’d never admit to if asked. The cities still weren’t safe to live in, as the species too soft to let us fend for ourselves had only focused on areas where survivors had banded together. Those who’d made it out alive had run as far as possible from the megacities of our warring civilization.
Angel's Feather (Flyer Chronicles, Book One) Page 1
