by C. Baely
THE PRADORIAN MATE
BY
C BAE.LY and KRISTIE DAWN
Copyright © 2014 by Crimson Frost Books
ISBN: 978-1-927973-18-9
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Copyright © 2014
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Christine for keeping me going in the right direction while writing this book, she is a great support. As well as my loving husband, Bruce, for all the support and help he has given me. I would also like to thank Mikayla, a special friend who has lent a hand when I’ve been between a rock and a hard place.
Prologue
April 21, 2021
She was seventeen and right in the middle of her junior year in high school. Her tight auburn ponytail moved with every step she took, dancing playfully around the white shirt that hung over the dark blue jean skirt. Skin colored stockings clung tightly to her thighs and rode all the way down until they met with black pumps which completed the carefully assembled outfit. Hanging haphazardly over her arm, a stately crest stood out proudly against her grey school jacket.
Sara walked down the school’s long corridor laughing and joking with her friends as they went. It was almost the end of a long week, and she looked forward to the weekend, as well as the chance to rest and spend time with her family.
Suddenly, the school doors swung open, and her father crashed through them. Trying to catch his breath, he shouted, “Sara, come on! We need to go, right now!”
Sara had never seen her father so pale before. He was still wearing the same beige pants and green shirt from that morning, but his expression reminded her of a day two weeks earlier when he’d told her mother he’d been fired from his job. He held the same drawn, shadowed look on his face now, as he eyed Sara, making her realize something was terribly wrong. She quickly said goodbye to her friends and ran to her father.
“What is it, Dad? Is everything all right?”
He seemed to hesitate for a minute, as if he was trying to decide how to answer. Apparently deciding it would be best for Sara to know straight away, he replied, “Your mother’s in the hospital.”
“What? What happened?”
As they hurried down the school steps toward her father’s car, he explained, the concern still obvious on his face. “We don’t know the details yet. She fainted at work a few hours ago. I drove her to the hospital, and she’s been seen by the doctors, but we don’t have any answers yet.”
May 23, 2022
A year had passed, and her mother still battled her illness, disproving the doctors’ gloomy predictions of her imminent death. She had been diagnosed with a type of aggressive cancer, and the diagnosis had hit Sara hard. All of Sara’s dreams in life had suddenly evaporated.
During her mother’s year of sickness and treatment, Sara would visit the hospital right after school, studying late at night to keep up with her schoolwork. Meanwhile, her father was still trying to find a new job, and he was struggling to keep them going because her mother’s treatments were rapidly eating into their savings. Tom Collins returned home almost every night tired and disappointed from a day of rejections.
They lived in Glasgow, one of the poorest cities of, the now independent, Scotland. He was fifty-two with a sick wife and a young daughter, employers showed little interest in hiring Tom. Without any income and with constantly rising expenses, life was not giving them many choices to survive, and he knew that all too well.
During a warm May afternoon, Sara was lounging in the living room glancing at the various pieces of old furniture, thinking about the times when they were made. The heavy, solid wooden pieces were hand polished with brass fittings. This room always made Sara feel as though she’d traveled back in time.
Before the second financial crisis of the twenty-first century, that devastated the world economy and wiped out people’s savings, things used to be better. Around the world, people struggled to make ends meet with any jobs they could get, only to find that they couldn’t always keep them. Countless millions were unemployed, her father one of them. With governments crippling, things like universal healthcare and unemployment benefits were scrapped.
Though the economy had started to improve in recent years, when someone came down with an illness, like her mum, they were on their own. There was no assistance, no help, unless you could pay for it, of course.
She sat on the low, soft, brown sofa positioned near to the double window that overlooked their backyard. Rich sunlight shone between the burnt orange curtains covering the room in its warm embrace. Soon after the telltale groan of a door being opened resounded, and her father walked in.
He looked worn, old before his time, with stress lines ingrained into his face and black circles painted under his eyes. His thick grey eyebrows shadowed his wrinkled features. His hair, which had turned a rich white over the last year, made him look even older and more broken. The brown shirt he wore looked frayed from overuse, and his tan kakis hung oddly around his waist with an array of pleats, showing they had grown too large for him. He appeared to be a man whose life hung by a thread.
“Sara!” he exclaimed, desperation obvious in his voice. Sara’s eyes darted up from her book to observe his hesitant walk over the carpeted floor with apprehension. When their eyes met, his seemed to be filling with unshed tears.
She placed her book aside and unfolded her long legs, never taking her eyes off of him. “Is it Mum?”
“No, no, darling. She’s fine. Or no worse, at least.” Her father looked down at her reassuringly.
“What is it then? What’s wrong?”
He sat gingerly beside her on the sofa. His voice sounded restless as he spoke. “I need to ask you something.”
“Anything, dad. I’ll do anything for you, just ask me,” Sara reassured him, the unease growing with every silent minute that passed.
“I have a way to help your mother get better.” He smiled softly, although the smile appeared forced somehow.
She didn’t take it in right away, but he had given her new hope, and she was unable to hide her excitement. “What is it, Dad?” Sara was not a child anymore. She had grown up fast over the last year, and she knew how dire their financial situation was. As her mother’s treatments continued, she hoped they would turn a corner somehow.
“I’ll need your help.” He whispered the words while avoiding eye contact with his daughter.
“Whatever it is, Dad, we’ll do it!” She trustingly placed her petite hands on his much larger, broader ones.
“I want you to marry Samuel Thorn.” Her father blurted the words out while looking into her wide blue eyes. The shock that appeared on her face must have been clear to him.
“Wha-What did you say?” Sara whispered, as if she thought she must have misheard.
“Samuel Thorn has asked me for your hand in marriage.” Her father smiled at her as he held her cold hands.
“But dad, he’s at least forty years old.” Sara tried, but probably failed, to hide her disgust.
“Yes he is, but he promised to give you a good life, and he assured me he will pay all of your mother’s medical expenses.” He gripped her hands tighter in a silent plea.
“But…I can work, Dad, and you can use the money you saved for my college tuition to keep paying M
um’s medical bills! Please. Don’t ask me to do this.” Sara pleaded, desperation rising within her. Her body shivered uncontrollably as she rose from the sofa, hugging herself.
The thought of marrying that dreadful Thorn made her shudder. He was a horrible man with a plethora of fat and dark sinister eyes. His jet black hair always seemed oily. She recalled one day when she had gone to his store to buy rice for a soup. He had deliberately grabbed her tiny hand with his fat, slimy hand as he handed her the bag of rice, smiling at her in a way that made her want to run and hide.
“Sara.” Her father’s voice brought her back from the horror of that day. “The college money’s already gone, and nobody will hire someone my age to work for them. Even if they did, and I got a decent wage, I couldn’t keep paying for everything.” Her father sounded increasingly desperate now. His once-square shoulders seemed to be buckling as if under a load too heavy for him to bear any longer. “Even if you got a job as well, you wouldn’t earn more than a pittance as a new worker. It still wouldn’t cover your mother’s treatment. Don’t you understand, Sara? We’re going to lose her if nothing is done.”
This was the first time her father had admitted such painful truths to her. She knew things were difficult, but she had no idea how bad until this moment. The realization made her heart thump in her chest as if it threatened to jump out and run for cover. Feeling smothered, she had to draw a deep breath just to make sure she was still breathing.
“I…understand.” Her voice sounded broken and cold as ice. Her heart ached for the dreams of her youth disappearing under the grey clouds of the heavy sky lying ahead. But her mind was made up, knowing, deep down, she was her mother’s only chance.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you, sweetheart.” He jumped from the sofa to hug her tightly in his arms.
Sara’s mind whirled in a never ending sea of questions, worries, and thoughts about her newly chosen life. Even though her father held her, she couldn’t stop the drowning sensation from growing within her. She might have just become her family’s new life raft, but Sara seemed destined to be forever crushed under the waves of a harsh ocean.
She couldn’t even hope to escape it.
April 21, 2111. Glasgow, Scotland.
Her breathing came in sharp gasps for air. She could feel that same drowning sensation overwhelming her once again after all these years. Even now, her memories still returned to haunt her, pushing her deeper into darkness.
Sara, at ninety years of age, lay in what was destined to be her deathbed. Bringing up two children in the loveless grip of their father, who had grown to disdain her, was hard enough. She had missed so many opportunities she wished she could have taken. She regretted many, many things. Yet there were still things she had loved about her life. The moments, small as they were, that Sara was able to spend alone with the children, and other times, when she could go out to visit friends and family, shone like a small, bright light amidst her darkness.
She wished she could have another chance to live her life the way she wanted, but the time had come to say goodbye and finally rest in the long, dark sleep of nonexistence. She wasn’t afraid, because she needed this lasting peace, needed the silence, and after all these years, she welcomed it.
“Mum?” her daughter, Samantha, called softly as she approached the bed.
“Yes, dear,” Sara answered in a deep drone, trying hard to be heard.
“I love you, Mum.” Sara could tell Samantha tried to hold back the tears that were swelling in her brilliant blue eyes.
“I love you too, sweetie.” Sara answered in a strained whisper as she drifted into a blissful emptiness where everything was lost, forever.
Chapter 1
A number of cushioned, leather-like beds lined the softly lit operating room. Blue-hued lights were set into the smooth metal walls, creating a cool yet comfortable atmosphere. The center of the room was occupied by an elderly, death-steeled figure that appeared to change under multicolored lights.
A small, odd-looking green humanoid observed this process through a large, clear wall that separated him from his subject. His three-fingered hands were entering notes into an electronic data pad when another similar creature entered the room.
Using guttural noises, the newcomer asked, “Is the process complete?”
“Not yet, sir. I am running the Pradorian program. This will help them to adjust faster to the Pradorian world.” The first creature replied using the same pattern like guttural noises in return. “By the way, sir, I have detected fertility issues in unit 21.”
The apparent superior alien considered this for a moment before replying. “It’s too late now to harvest another unit, and nothing is stipulated in our contract about this. We still need this one revived and rejuvenated in one planetary cycle.” He pointed at the figure in the center of the room. “She may still be of use to the Pradorians.”
He paused for a moment, considering her, before continuing. “She needs to be de-aged by at least two hundred and forty lunar cycles. Proceed with the de-aging process.” As he moved to leave the room, the creature turned to his crewmate. “Make sure she has a translator attached to her eardrum, and don’t forget to run a diagnostic on her bodily organs.”
“Yes, sir! The translator’s already in place, sir.” The subordinate returned his attention to the aged body.
Before long, the wrinkled skin seemed to tighten and gain color, as did the previously white hair. Muscle, fat, and bone started to fill out under the skin, and soon the old, spent body looked fresh and young again. A strong white beam passed over the rejuvenated body, measuring the performance of the body’s organs and physiology.
* * *
Sara was running, young and free again in the beautiful green fields of an unknown world, mesmerized by the plethora of vivid colors. The warm sun shone down upon her as her auburn hair jostled freely in the breeze. The rich scent of flowers blew through the air, and clear, green-tinted waters cascaded in tall waterfalls onto the rounded rocks and flowing streams below.
Everything was welcoming and new! She felt happy…until she felt a constant poking sensation in her ribs.
Something wasn’t right. Sara lost her sense of euphoria. Creeping fear warned her she was not alone, and that feeling in her ribs wouldn’t go away. It only got worse. The spectacular environment encompassing her faded away, leaving her standing alone on a dark hill. Shadows of fear, threatened her dreaming mind, alarming her. The once-warm air around her turned cold, and everything stilled. Was this how it felt to die? Was death supposed to have such an annoying pain and feel as cold as a refrigerator? She wanted to return to her extraordinary dream world, but that was impossible with the constant poking sensation in her ribs. It was as if someone was trying to—
“Wake up, earthling!” A child-like voice shocked her out of her dream state.
Sara’s eyes opened, and she tried to register what was going on. Where was she? The harsh white light that beamed from overhead died down, reducing the room to a soft blue glow. To her right, a strange looking green creature no taller than an eight-year-old child was staring at her. His huge black eyes glared out from his egg-shaped head. At least she thought it was a “he,” although she couldn’t really tell. The sight held her frozen, staring down at the ominous being. Her heart pulsed in her chest. Cold hands tightened her stomach, causing the nerves within it to spasm uncontrollably. She feared the lump in her throat would soon explode, releasing everything it held behind it. She tried to focus on asking what came into her mind. “Is this hell?”
The being replied, “No, earthling. This isn’t what you call hell. You have been given the honor of a new life.” He gestured with his hand, sweeping it around the barren surgical room.
“You don’t look human,” Sara ventured, the doubt in her voice evident even when it reached her own ears. She must either be hallucinating, or she’d gone mad. That possibility caused her to shake inwardly. She tried to focus on the tiny being standing before her. She exhaled slowl
y repeating to herself, I am not mad. I have not gone crazy.
The being gave a deep sigh before answering. “Of course I’m not human! I am from a different planet. My kind are known as Restorians.”
“Another planet, what do you mean? Where am I?” Her heart thundered in her chest, and small trickles of sweat appeared on her forehead, against all odds in this cold room. She tried hard to hold back the scream rising from the depths of her soul. It was simple survival mode that kept her immobilized while waiting to hear the answer she somehow knew she wouldn’t like.
She forced herself to remain still on the firm metal bed she lay upon, but shook with tension. Her sanity warned her, being old would not help her to escape quickly from this place.
“You are on a Restorian vessel.” Pride filled his voice.
“A Restor-what vessel?”
“A galactic spaceship of the Restorian tribe.” She could tell the creature was growing impatient. “Your primitive kind still cannot fathom the existence of other life forms in the universe. It is tiresome.” His cold voice echoed in the room with unhidden contempt.
“A spaceship? You mean we’re in space, like outer space?” Sara tried to rise, but something seemed to hold her down. Her eyes grew wide in alarm, feeling like they would pop out of their sockets as she tried desperately to break loose from whatever held her still. Her heartbeat raced in her chest, growing so intense, she would soon have a stroke if she couldn’t control the thudding. The last thought made her try to slow her booming heart and focus on relaxing her head. She lay back down again, her temples feeling ready to explode.
The small creature sighed again and rubbed his head. “Must you be so upset? It is not the first time we have revived females of your kind, but you are becoming truly tiresome, human.” He exploded, unable to control, his impatience.
