“To become the new king, of course.”
“So, you’re a princess of an entire planet, and Proden is king?” I gasp.
“I was. Father and I barely escaped with our lives. And Ariel, of course. My uncle told the people we were dead, lost in a horrible accident.”
I shake my head in disbelief. Me? Sitting here with a princess? What are the odds?
But quickly I snap back to her story, my fists balling as the anger continues to burn up my neck against this uncle of hers. He had no right.
I leap from my seat and pace in front of her. “Your father is the rightful king of Plenty. Why are you wasting your time out here, alone, when you could be royalty? I know people. People who could help. They might want a little kickback,” I mutter, “but they could help!”
“Shh!” Miranda waves her hand over the arm of the chair and the back returns to a full seated position. “I told you, this is a secret.” That little crease between her brows returns as she stands and hurries toward me.
Confusion muddles my brain. “Why? Don’t you want Proden to be king again?”
“Over the years, my father has grown… unkind.”
Unkind? That old man wouldn’t hurt a space fly. He’s been nothing but helpful.
Miranda stretches up on her toes and leans close to my ear. Her proximity makes my breath hitch. “I think the years of near solitude have driven him mad.”
I’ve met people like Proden before. They can hold it together for a while in front of strangers, but with family? That’s another story.
“I do not want Father to know I shared this with you. I am afraid he would be furious.” The light dims in Miranda’s deep blue eyes.
I grab her hand. “Come with me. On the Tempest.”
She shakes her head. “Oh no, I could never do that. Father would be all alone.”
Miranda is the kind of sweet soul who only thinks of others. I’ll need to take charge. I tap the comm on my wrist. “Tempest.”
Tempest’s voice echoes in the open room. “Yes, Ferek?”
“Almost ready to go?”
“Repairs will be completed momentarily.”
“Thanks, old girl!”
“Ferek, I’ve informed you—” Tempest scolds, but I tap off the comm.
I grapple for Miranda’s hands and spin her toward me. “Tempest will be ready to go by the time we get there. I know it’s crazy, but come with me.”
The sadness in Miranda’s eyes dissipates. “Really? Do you think we can do it?”
I nod, and without warning, she throws her arms around me and pecks her lips to mine. The vision of the towering house and Miranda pulling me toward it flashes through my mind again. I push away the kid talk… for now.
She pulls back. “If you can return me to Plenty, I will reclaim the throne. Father will be unable to follow, as the Sycorax is no longer operational. I know there are people still on my side. I could reward you greatly.” She pauses to think and a broad smile takes over her lips. “We could be married. You could rule with me. Have anything you want.”
Me? Rule a planet?
It’s a long shot, but it would be a world better than the errand boy life I’m leading now.
“Do you love me?” Miranda asks, eyes full of hope.
Heavens above. The question belts into me like a blaster hit and a wave of something one might call “love” ebbs through my body. “Yeah, I do. I love, prize, honor you.”
Huh? Honor you?
Miranda grins and snatches up my hand, dragging me toward the exit.
“Wait, wait. We need a plan.” I pull her to a stop. “Even if Proden isn’t around, that AI is still repairing the Tempest. It’ll alert your father right away.”
Miranda shakes her head. “No, Ariel is my friend. We can go.”
She activates the exit, but I snag her sleeve.
“If this is going to work, we need a better plan.” Nervousness rolls around in my belly as I scan the hall.
She huffs and wraps her arms around her chest. “Fine, here is the plan. I will return you to the service bay. You stay out of sight, and I will speak with Ariel. I’ll tell him Proden is in need of assistance immediately. Ariel will listen and do as told.”
“Then we can activate the bay exit, book it out of here, and Proden won’t be able to follow or call for help,” I say. It’s not a great plan, but the reward for returning a princess to her rightful throne calls.
I glance at Miranda, and it’s as if she’s glowing with excitement. The sight rockets happiness through my veins, and a flash of her wearing a white dress, complete with a crown and veil, careens through my head. I shake my head to snap out of it.
Reward. Think about the reward.
“Okay,” I say. “Good enough.”
She guides me through a maze of halls. It’s a good thing too, because I’d have no clue where to go without her. This entire station looks the same to me; gray wall after gray wall, no unique markings to discern our location until, finally, we reach what might be the large entry to the repair bay.
“This is it,” she whispers. “You hide once we arrive, and I will send Ariel to my father.”
Miranda activates the bay entrance and the door dilates. Inside, she waves me behind a stack of large storage containers. I crouch behind them, ice traveling up my spine and in my mind I'm already spending the money I’ll receive if the princess can regain her throne. Across the bay, Miranda disappears behind the Tempest to find the AI unit.
I tap my comm and reduce the volume. “Tempest?” I whisper and stick my ear to the tech.
“Yes, Ferek.”
“Get ready to roll. And we have a guest.”
“A guest?” she asks. “My accommodations remain for one person only.”
“Oh, knock it off. You know two people will work just fine. Be ready.” I tap off the comm.
“Ferek?”
I look up to find Miranda with Ariel behind her, the bot's limb extended toward me. Instead of a pincher hand, it has formed into a blaster. I touch the weapon on my hip, but hold back from drawing it.
No sudden moves.
Miranda races toward me as the bay door slurps open. A stern-faced Proden, still wearing his white robe but looking years younger and much spryer, storms in, a pulse gun in hand.
I grab for Miranda and push her behind me, keeping my hand on my weapon. “Look, Proden, we can work this out,” I reason. “Miranda’s tired of living on the Sycorax, and I can take her with me. She wants to come. She’s almost an adult.”
Sweat drips down the side of my face, but I resist the urge to wipe it away.
Proden stops a few feet from the door. “That’s not something I can allow, and my guess is that this silly girl told you everything.”
“Whoa, whoa, I don’t know nothin’,” I lie, raising my hands. “All I know is Miranda doesn’t want to be here anymore.”
“You know too much.”
With the speed of a gunslinger, Proden flicks up his weapon.
But I’m faster.
Blaster in hand, I depress the trigger and shoot. The beam's white lights explode throughout the bay. My head goes woozy and my knees buckle, but somehow I stay upright.
When the smoke clears, the bay has transformed into a small, dark room no bigger than the inside of the Tempest. Proden is gone. Chattering echoes from behind me and I spin to locate Miranda, but instead find something entirely different.
A creature no less than seven feet tall with olive green skin and four stick-like limbs stands in front of me.
“Where’s Miranda?” I shout as it stares back at me with buggy, black eyes, located on either side of its head. “What did you do with her?”
Slower than normal, I raise my blaster, but the alien somehow wrenches the weapon from my hand by flicking one of its four limbs through the air. The metal clacks to the ground and slides across the room. I make to dive for it, but my feet won’t move.
My mind spins, trying to make sense of what’s happening
. Visions of Miranda flip through my consciousness as if I’m changing entertainment channels on the ship’s viewing screen,. A kiss. Our bodies locked. That magnificent face. A fortune and kingdom lost.
A loud smacking breaks me from my trance. The alien claps with two of its four hands, if that’s what one might call the thin, three fingered, claw-like appendages jutting from the ends of its stick arms.
Miranda’s sweet voice perplexingly emits from the creature’s insect-like mouth. “That was lovely.”
“Lovely?” I scoff, confused and still searching for Miranda. “What was lovely?”
“Why, the show, of course.” It waves a hand again, and in an instant, Miranda returns, wearing the same pink dress from my dream, taking the alien's place.
“I... I don’t understand.” I work to move my hands, but with no success.
“Well, of course you don’t.” A knowing look crosses her face and she stalks toward me. Slowly, she stretches up and plants a gentle, lingering kiss on my lips. My body floods with electricity and the desire to hold her. Marry her. Be with her forever.
She releases me and the desire dies.
“You tricked me,” I spit, my body released from its frozen state. But for some reason, I don’t try to run.
She touches her hand to my face, stroking my cheek. “I’m so sorry about that. You are a sweet boy. Greedy, but sweet.” She tsks. “But you see, my race, the Caliban, are solitary creatures. Ariel is my only companion, and you know how dull AI can be some days. It is unlikely I will meet with any of my kind more than once in a lifetime, and then only to breed, lay my eggs, and die shortly after.”
Miranda paces the floor, hands on hips. “I have been out here for so long. One hundred and twenty-five years is a great amount of time to fill when trying to amuse one’s self. To pass the time, I choose to seek out some entertainment. I bring various species on board by disabling their ships, probe their minds, and discover how each experiences love.”
She holds my stare, eyes shining. “I found you the most exciting. Human love and attachment is very different than so many of the races which have crossed my path. I find it fascinating how quickly you are able to bond with someone you have recently met and become attracted to. How you trust them. Your willingness to protect a near stranger.”
“What about Proden? Doesn’t he keep you company?”
“Proden is a figment of my imagination, one which I shared with you to make our daring escape more interesting. I often construct an illusion of a friend for myself, but in the end...” She yawns and raises her hand to her mouth. “It is as if I am speaking with myself.”
The urge to run overtakes me and I bolt for my weapon, smacking right into the AI. I sail around to Miranda and slap at my comm.
“Tempest!” I yell, heart hammering in my chest. I have no idea what my ship’s computer can do for me now, but it’s the only chance I’ve got.
“Yes, Ferek?” she says through the comm.
“Uh—” My body freezes once again.
“Madam?” Ariel locks his two pincher hands onto my upper arms. “I believe your meal is ready.”
My eyes widen to attention at that.
Meal?
Miranda tips her head and tsks. “Yes, Ariel. A little longer to play with it would have been pleasing." She licks her lips, eyeing me up and down. "But, alas, I am famished and must eat my dinner.”
"Ferek?" Tempest speaks again through the comm. "What is going on?"
"This uh…" I stare at Miranda in her human form. "This…person wants to eat me. Anyway to get me out of here?"
"I detect you ten yards from my position behind the wall adjoining the bay I am located in. Please take cover."
As if I can take cover.
Blasts come from behind, and the walls of the room reverberate. Miranda loses her balance slightly, and her face twists into a furious scowl.
"I told you to disarm that ship, Ariel," she shouts.
"I apologize, madam. I was too busy looking it over for spare parts."
"Spare parts?" Tempest's offended voice sounds in my comm.
The blasting sounds double, and a hole blows threw the wall behind us with a pop. Sparks fly through the space. Miranda rounds toward the exit and with the distraction her hold on my body releases. Without a second thought, I throw my right elbow into Arial's face, and his pinchers release me. Pain shoots up my arm from the hard surface of his body, but I don't let it stop me. I dive for my blaster and grab it from the floor. With a flip, I roll on to my back and aim for Miranda. I discharge the weapon, but she is already out the door. A blast of light hits to my side and I refocus on Arial. I discharge again and hit the bot straight in the chest. His AI body flies back and hits the wall with a smack.
Another blast from Tempest hits the wall, making an opening just big enough for me to fit through.
"Stop shooting Tempest!" I cover my head and yell into my comm. I'm coming to you.
I pull myself to my feet and squeeze through the opening, hoping that Tempest heard me. I can picture it now. I avoid getting eating only to be blown to bits by my ship.
The old clucker waits in the bay looking like glorious salvation. I race toward her open hatch and a blast from behind singes the top of my shoulder. I twist back to still human Miranda, a weapon in hand trained at me. But this time her beautiful face does not affect me. All I see is big bug eyes in my mind. I shoot in her direction, but she dodges the blast.
I race up the steps to board Tempest, and the hatch closes behind me.
"Get us out of here," I yell and slam myself into the pilot's seat.
"Yes, Ferek. I'm doing my best."
The engine hums to life and Tempest lifts from the floor and rotates toward the closed bay door.
"Arm weapons!" I yell. "Shoot us out of this place!"
"I don't think that is necessary," Tempest says in her typical flat tone.
"Why not?" My hands fly over the controls.
"Because it appears the bay doors are opening on their own. We must have inflicted enough damage on this station already. The alien is letting us go."
The bay door opens like a giant mouth leading into space.
"Well, get going before she changes her mind!"
"Yes, Ferek."
With the words Tempest jolts and zooms from the bay. When we are far enough away from the station, I slump in my seat and check the ship's propulsion function readings.
"You seem to be working better than before," I say.
"Yes, that Arial, despite him saying he was looking for spare parts he was quite helpful."
I quirk my eyebrow. "Helpful?"
"Yes. While you were doing whatever it was you were doing I was able to convince him to repair it. I think he enjoyed my company."
I glance at the stinging wound on my shoulder. Nothing big, the hole in my shirt is almost worse. Then I recheck our coordinates to the Letiri System and dread seeps into my stomach.
"Maybe you should have stayed with him then." Now that I think about it getting eaten by an alien might have been better than what's going to happen when I get this shipment to Taruk late.
"And miss the excitement of our adventures together?" Tempest asks.
I pat the control console and give her a grin.
"But Ferek?"
"Yes, Tempest?" I ask.
"Don't call me an old girl again."
Author Jenetta Penner
Jenetta Penner developed a love of sci-fi at an early age and decided on a whim to read 40 young adult books in the same genre. From that experience, an author was born. She lives in sunny Southern California with her husband, two daughters and two furbabies. And she may or may not have a slight addiction to cat gifs.
Follow Jenetta at JenettaPenner.com (sign up for FREE books).
Warp Three
By David J. VanBergen Jr.
Even the best pilot in the galaxy can have a bad day when traveling at three hundred times the speed of light.
Chapter
1
Cyrus didn’t remember opening his eyes or waking up, but he was suddenly aware of his surroundings. He was alone in a bright, stainless-steel room, but had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he was actually there, but that didn’t make any sense. How could he see if he wasn’t there?
Before he could contemplate any further, everything faded away.
***
Cyrus Jones stood at attention in the front row with nineteen other IMF starship pilots—at least, soon-to-be pilots. Four more rows of twenty cadets stood behind him. One hundred of the toughest and smartest men and women on the planet. The truly elite of the human race. That was what had been drilled into them for the last eighteen months, at any rate.
Admiral Ablak himself stood at the podium addressing the cadets, imparting words of wisdom to the men and women who would be the next generation of IMF officers. Cyrus didn’t hear a word the leader of the Intergalactic Military Forces said. His attention was focused on the ship the admiral was standing in front of.
The Falcon 3W was the fastest ship ever built. According to the engineers, it was capable of warp three, but no one had ever attempted to go that fast before. Not yet, anyway.
Cyrus had passed every class with flying colors. He had successfully completed every simulation and had never crashed, regardless of how difficult the simulations were made to be. His reflexes and hand-eye coordination tested off the charts. Simply put, no one had ever seen a pilot with his ability. He liked to believe the Falcon 3W was built solely for him.
An elbow in the ribs brought Cyrus out of his daydream. He glanced at the cadet on his right, a blonde woman named Annika. She gestured toward the podium with her chin.
“The world expects great things from you, the ninety-third graduating class of the Trinity Interstellar Space Academy,” the admiral said.
The admiral stepped out from behind the podium and came to stand in front of Cyrus. “Graduating at the head of the class,” his voice boomed, “Lieutenant Cyrus Jones.”
Cyrus saluted as a staffer stepped forward and attached a pin to his collar as the admiral moved to the next person in line.
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 44
