The Styrahi arrived within a few days and descended from the sky in their gleaming silver-winged vessels. The doors opened and when five tall, incredibly gorgeous women appeared, Earth drew a collective breath. Here was the proof that humanity was not alone in the universe. Humanity was not the perfect occupant for the universe after all.
No one was sure who saw it first, but these new alien friends, such gorgeous visions of human perfection, were a little more than that. They weren’t human after all. Not with eighty-two chromosome pairs and their decidedly inhuman and hermaphroditic genitalia. The Styrahi caused a cultural hemorrhage throughout the modern Earth. The fringe cultures of homosexuality, never quite achieving their goal of equality, shouted from the mountaintops for recognition. They deified the Styrahi, even after the realization that they were human only in a degree of appearance. The Styrahi looked upon them with curiosity. What was a partnership when there was no possibility of creating a genetically paired child? Yet through their travels, the Styrahi understood, and they encouraged Earth to fully recognize and integrate all of its people. But they would not integrate humanity themselves.
Their DNA and human DNA would not allow complete compatibility or reproduction. The Styrahi’s reproductive system selectively secreted male and female agents during the Styrahi’s twenty-ninth and thirty-third Earth year. They took only one partner, and they had their children together in perfectly harmonious relationships. Human and Styrahi relationships were possible, though ultimately short-lived, as the Styrahi breeding cycle required.
Styrahi never married, nor did they divorce. Their partnerships were the perfect blending of love, respect, communication, and adoration. Their beauty and their seemingly perfect lives bred much human discontent, until it was apparent that while the Styrahi were systematically destroying the customs and organized religions of Earth by their sheer presence, they brought much more to the table.
They were swift, efficient and deadly warriors—something more akin to warrior poets or warrior statesmen. They needed help, but understood Earth’s unlikely evolution to peaceful coexistence. No matter to them, they knew the truth about war. War could be taught to anyone, but few can apply it. For the Styrahi, they’d planted the seeds for fighting this war within humanity in 1947.
Humanity proved their worth as warriors regardless of who had won or lost World War Two. The accident at Roswell was perfectly executed to keep modern knowledge of extraterrestrial life mere speculation until the time was right. With a captured Grey spacecraft as a gift and technological blueprints for everything from stealth technology to nuclear energy planted aboard, the Styrahi believed correctly that humans would be able to reverse engineer and implement these new gifts. That technology would breed prosperity and peace. And humanity proved them right, to a point.
The Styrahi believed that eventually humanity would stop fighting itself and be a truly equal civilization. When that happened, the Styrahi never planned that humans would successfully forget war. Yet, they brought the imprint process to the Terran Defense Forces, or so Munsen had said. Mairin pushed the thoughts away and tried to enjoy herself.
Mairin moved through the city awash in smells of rich coffees and tantalizing fruits. The markets flowed with all known species represented, all sharing their produce and goods with each other. Mairin stopped in a short line and had a small cup of espresso, relishing it. She saw a hotel in the distance and walked to it quickly with thoughts of a long bath swimming in her head.
The clerk took her information and gave her a large suite on the sixtieth floor overlooking a river with an unpronounceable name the locals called “Little Amazon.” A large bed dominated the room and Mairin fell onto it, looking out into the beautiful city, full of beautiful people, and smiled. It felt like a home, something she’d never really known. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, savoring the smell of the clean linens and the fresh flowers on the bedside table. The smile stayed on her face as a dreamless sleep took her away.
* * * * *
Four
The chirping comset startled Munsen from his snoring. Feet on his communications console, Munsen didn’t bother to sit forward or even open his eyes. He fingered the talk button. “Munsen.”
“Sir, this is Major DeWitt. I’m the deputy action officer for Libretto and had instructions to report the arrival of Captain Mairin Shields.”
Munsen rubbed his eyes. “Go ahead.”
“Sir, Captain Shields arrived at thirteen forty-six hours local time. She reported to the TDF Liaison Officer and has checked into a suite at the Grand Hotel. Room number is six zero zero four seven. Do you require any additional information?”
“What else can you give me?”
“Apparently she had an altercation with Lieutenant Colonel Montgomery at Reception. Basically told him he was a rear echelon motherfucker and that she would not be reporting for duty to make his coffee and let him stare at her all day.”
“She said that?” Munsen grinned.
“I don’t have the full transcript from the office, sir, but that’s the gist of it.” DeWitt paused. “Shall I put her on report, sir?”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort, is that clear?” Munsen rubbed his chin. “I want to know the minute she leaves the city.”
There was a pregnant pause and Munsen knew what DeWitt had to be thinking, why would she leave the city?
DeWitt answered. “Yes, sir. We’ll report to you if Captain Shields leaves the city. Is that all, sir?”
Munsen smiled. “Very good. Thank you for the report, Major.”
“Out here, sir.”
The connection clicked off and Munsen leaned forward with a long sigh. Phase one of the plan was complete, and Mairin was now on Libretto unsupervised. Phase two would commence immediately, and, as he typed instructions to his most critical assets for the mission, Munsen knew it was worth the trouble. If they were right about Mairin Shields, then the course of the war could change. Hell, humanity itself could change. Never had one young woman held so much in the palm of her hands.
Munsen could accept moderate risk without batting an eye. There were far too many contingencies he’d not constructed mitigation plans against, but barring something tragic, Captain Mairin Shields would finish her integration and command troops in the field. That was the main purpose of imprinting, wasn’t it? To tip the scales in the favor of the TDF and turn back the Greys. Or was it something else entirely?
In the case of Mairin Shields, there was so much more at stake.
Telling himself he needed the sleep, Munsen finished the splash of whiskey in his glass. There would be a time soon enough when sleep would be a precious commodity. He wasn’t a man to waste opportunities, or good Tennessee whiskey.
* * * * *
Five
Hurry up and wait. Bust your ass getting where you’re supposed to be only to sit on your ass until someone on the other end is ready for you. What was there to do while she waited for her ship? Probably the same thing everyone who ever waited for a ship did.
“Can you talk to me?” She laughed at herself as soon as she said it. Of course the imprint wasn’t capable of talking. No imprint ever communicated out right, not from shreds of memory and instinctual behaviors. What am I going to do with you? She looked out the window at the slowly waking city and her stomach rumbled. Not eating for five weeks will do that, she thought with a smile and rolled out of the warm sheets.
In her shoulder bag, her clothes from Eden Academy were still neatly folded, but with the ozone smell of a stale spacecraft. Maybe there would be a place to launder them in the hotel. The thought stopped her. Why bother? Something about them was wrong and she tossed them into the garbage can before tugging on a pair of uniform coveralls. She tied her hair up in an almost regulation ponytail and looked at herself in the mirror. A smile began to dawn. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Bouncing out of her room, the trials of Eden Academy seemed ever more distant and, to a certain extent, b
eneath her. Reunions weren’t likely to be in her future. The smells of eggs and bacon came to her well before she reached the Galaxy Dining Room. The massive buffet beckoned Mairin quickly through the food line. After dropping one hundred twenty credits for real Estean eggs, three-year-old ham, and something vaguely akin to potatoes, she walked into a nearly silent dining room. There were no Styrahi in the dining room, only clusters of civilian humans. Tourists. A few pairs of eyes kept on her, but most either quickly looked away or started up languished conversations quickly trying to cover their silence at the appearance of a Terran Defense Force officer. Most failed. Mairin slunk over to a table along the far wall and away from the curving windows. Why do people always do that?
It’s the uniform, she thought. These are people that cannot fathom warfare and they’re seeing someone who they’ve been brought up to fear. To them you’re a butcher, a heathen, and a mindless idiot following orders and killing on sight. Mairin blinked at the thought, and almost immediately understood. This was a truth very unfortunate to most civilians. They looked at every soldier like a poor dumb fighting rooster. Soldiers were to be pitied. They’re bred to fight and they claim patriotism in the defense of their country because they’re dumb enough not to stand up for their basic entitled rights.
Mairin felt her stomach turn. Looking down at the combat decorations on her chest she felt her skin crawling. Yes, Mairin. In their eyes now you are a combat veteran, and no matter what degrees you obtain, no matter what education you achieve, as long as you wear this uniform, you are a poor dumb idiot to most of society. They don’t care one iota about you as a person. They see a uniform and the first emotion they feel is pity.
Well fuck them, she thought and nearly laughed out loud.
She looked across the room and out the window for a long moment. Am I going crazy, hearing a voice that’s not my own? She waited for an answer, but had none. She finished her breakfast and walked out of the still nearly silent dining room. She could cure at least one part of that just by dressing the part. She didn’t have the right clothes for this planet, so she could change that. Hell, she could change the way she looked if she wanted to. There were enough credits in her account to pay for an esoteric body map if she wanted. She didn’t realize she was smiling as she walked out of the hotel into the bright morning light of Libretto City.
Not five steps out of the first hotel, Mairin met a Styrahi with long blonde hair who smiled at her warmly. Mairin blurted, “Excuse me, do you speak Standard?”
“Of course.”
“Can you tell me where to, um...?” She looked down at her coveralls.
The tall beauty laughed. “Go to the Central Corridor and go down two levels to the Shopping District.”
Mairin blushed, but looked up at the woman. “Thank you.”
“Mai eisheena” she said and walked away. Mairin made a note to add a Styrahi dialect coach to her hypno rotation. Anything would surely be better than topics like field sanitation and magtank repulsor systems maintenance.
Daylight washed the sky in a splendid shower as Mairin exited the hotel in a newly purchased sundress and sandals. She smoothed her hair back, jostling the opal earrings she’d found in the massive shopping center. The inner-ringed shopping district held shops of every imaginable fashion, catering to alien species from across the known galaxy. Interwoven through the mostly subterranean district, the artistry of water features brought a peaceful, comforting air to the shopping experience. She’d laughed at the concept of a shopping mall. Knowledge that her ancestor hated shopping but never peeped about the six-hour binge made her giddy.
After a quick return to her room to drop off the mess of packages collected during the trip, Mairin grabbed a thin sweater and slung it over one arm. Stomach grumbling, she decided that unpacking the pile of bags would have to wait. Having a place of her own, unlike her shared apartment on Eden, was something new. Even if it was a simple hotel suite, for the time being it was hers. Shopping without any familiar eyes around liberated her. No wonder they called it retail therapy, she thought with a grin as she made her way to the entertainment district.
A Florentine plaza gave way to an immense granite staircase falling down to the water’s edge. Mairin bounced down the stairs breathing in the moist air as the first strains of music began to find her ears. Turning a corner, the district spread along the riverside for more than five kilometers. Every breath of wind brought a new scent of cooking food. Music of all kinds and volumes wove together into an ascending symphony. The sight of a closed Irish-themed pub named Seanachie’s brought a hint of regret. No Guinness this evening. She accepted the thought with little surprise as her imprint continued to emerge.
She saw a sushi bar across the boulevard and walked over, her senses guiding her to a seat at the tip of the bar’s peninsula. Soft ambient music played from the ceiling speakers above her as Mairin pulled out a chair and sat. The air was redolent of ginger and wasabi, and her mouth watered.
The Vemeh chef clicked his mandibles in greeting and a uniformed Tueg waiter, blue skin rippling under his yellow serving smock, bounded over. “May I get you something to drink?”
“Sapporo. Draft if you have it.”
The waiter smiled, an eerie sight with his protruding lower jaw, but Mairin returned it. A scant moment later, she sipped at the ice-cold beer and smiled again. You don’t seem to steer me wrong, do you? She ordered a spicy tuna roll for her first course and watched the Vemeh chef work his magic.
Mairin felt the itchy anxiety of being watched as she hefted the first bite of spicy tuna roll to her mouth with the chopsticks. As she looked up across the u-shaped bar and the blur of the Vemeh chef’s knives flying through his preparations, she squinted a little in the fading orange light and paused just slightly. Ten feet away the most exquisite green eyes she’d ever seen watched her own eyes. Every Styrahi seemed beautiful beyond reason, but this one’s beauty stunned her. The woman smiled and Mairin responded in kind.
Mairin reached for her ice-cold Sapporo and she raised the glass to her lips and drank, eyes holding the Styrahi’s gaze. She felt something come alive inside her. As it flowered and blossomed, she relished the recognition of being wanted. The raven-haired Styrahi held her smile, raised a bottled Sapporo to her lips and sipped, but her eyes never left Mairin’s. Mairin shuddered. This really can’t be happening, she thought with a smile. Not from someone so...beautiful.
What are you thinking, Mairin? You’re a human woman, not a Styrahi. She’s not interested in you. And why do you care if she is?
Mairin looked down into her sushi roll for a long moment, dancing her chopsticks through the ritual of separation, a touch of wasabi, and then a dunk in the soy sauce. She fished the piece out of its soy bath and looked up again hoping for another glance of flashing green eyes. Gone. Mairin’s heart sank and she sighed.
A blink of movement caught her eye and she glanced left, and into those green eyes. The Styrahi sat, pulling a sweet-smelling breeze of perfume along. Mairin’s mouth dried up as she looked up at the taller woman’s eyes.
“Mind if I sit?” Her voice trilled like a strummed harp.
Mairin smiled as she somehow found the words. “Please do.” Please do what? Please do me? She bit the thought back, but her face betrayed her in a flush of crimson. So much for doing me no wrong. Dammit.
“And what was that little thought that crossed your mind, cariad?”
Mairin cocked her head to the side, her brown curls draping across her dress. “Carry-ad?”
The Styrahi smiled. “It means beloved. In Welsh.” She reached out and gently stroked the back of Mairin’s shaking hand. “My name is Tallenaara, but my human friends call me Tally.”
Mairin blinked. “Welsh? As in Wales? On Earth?”
The Styrahi laughed. “Yes, as in Wales on Earth. I studied architecture at Cardiff. Spent five years on your planet in all. I didn’t catch your name.”
Mairin blushed a little more. “Mairin Shields.”
&n
bsp; Tally spoke a traditional greeting in Styrah and smiled. “First night on Libretto?”
Mairin nodded. The will to speak seemed to have evaporated under the green-eyed beauty’s gaze. There were a million questions she wanted to ask, and a fevered need to have them answered. She swallowed and spoke slowly. “How did you go about studying on Earth?”
Tally sipped from her beer bottle. “Part of my service here, Mairin. I assisted Hekatarna, Styrah’s greatest architect, in building this city. I was sent to your planet to learn all about human beings and to develop an architectural concept to make them feel at home in our ports of call. You are from Earth, aren’t you?”
Mairin smiled at the hint of a lilt in Tally’s voice. “I was born on Luna, and moved to Eden Two when I was six. Was there all through the Academy. I was going to be an Administrative Technician.”
“And what are you now?”
Mairin paused. Should I tell her that I’m an officer? Is that a security threat? There was no response, so she answered, “I’m an officer in the TDF now. Awaiting assignment.”
The woman’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Straight from Civil Consideration to an officer’s commission?”
“Um. Yes.” Mairin blanched. Did I just say something wrong?
“You must be an imprint.”
Mairin looked away. Oh shit, girl!
“It’s okay, cariad. It’s not a new thing, nor a military secret, no matter what they told you. The Styrahi have imprinted our offspring for generations. How else would we be able to stabilize our core values and beliefs and avoid cultural shifts and regressions?”
Mairin nodded. “Cultural regressions? As in what happened on Earth?”
Tally laughed and shook her head. “Nothing like the rise of reality entertainment or something like that. When you arrived on this planet, did it resemble Earth?”
Runs In The Family Page 4
