The buff-looking dark blue man easily swung Pweet into his space ship. Once inside, she floated in zero gravity. He kept hold of her hand while he pressed a button to close the entrance.
“We must get out of here fast,” he said as he plopped Pweet into a chair and strapped her in.
“Why? What’s the big hurry?” asked Pweet.
“Just a moment,” said the strange but also handsome alien.
He strapped himself in a chair and started typing fast on a console before answering her. Pweet felt the ship plunge up toward the heavens. It was kind of nauseating. She took some deep breaths.
The hunky blue man swung around in his chair and looked at her with huge eyes covered by strange misty clouds.
“I don’t know the extent of the Verdantes’ surveillance systems,” he said. “They could be watching us right now. They’ll grab us before we get to warp space if they know I’ve got you.”
“Like they would care,” said Pweet with a sniff.
The alien’s cloudy eyes widened.
“Of course they would care,” he said. “You humans are like pets to them. Their property. Didn’t you know?”
“Pets? Pets? What are you talking about?” Pweet asked. “No! They take us to space with them as companions. It’s a job. But they won’t take me. They rejected me!” she ended with a sob.
The alien blinked and rubbed his eyes, then he spoke.
“Rejected you? Why would they do that? You’re a fine female specimen. More beautiful than many I have seen in this entire galaxy. You can trust me on that. I’m an expert in this matter. The Verdantes must be crazy, as I have often said,” he finished.
Pweet’s head was spinning. Suddenly she realized the strange situation she had put herself in. Jumping into a ship with a weird alien from an unknown planet!
Well If anything happens to me, it’s all the Verdantes’ fault, she told herself.
She answered the blue man with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“It’s not because of my appearance. The Verdantes don’t care about that. It’s because people have told lies about me!”
“Oh, the Verdantes definitely care about your appearance,” the man answered her. “Why do you think their birth lab scientists work so hard to create the most attractive and cutest specimens? That’s the first thing they notice about you, obviously.”
“What!” Pweet started hyperventilating.
Marroo pressed on the wall, and an opening appeared. He reached in, pulled out a tube-shaped object, and tossed it over to Pweet.
“Here, drink this. It will calm you,” he said.
Pweet looked suspiciously at the tube, but her panic overruled her suspicion. She peeled off its clear seal and took a big drink. Her fast breathing slowed.
“It’s no big deal. We’re all designed for our purpose in life, aren’t we?” Marroo asked as Pweet continued to drink from the tube. “Myself, for example. As you can see, I am superbly handsome. Is it not so?”
He turned and struck a pose, lifting his face so she could see his profile.
“Yeah. You’re real good looking guy,” Pweet said. “Wow! I feel much better now. What’s in this stuff anyway? And what purpose in life do you need to be so good looking for?”
She narrowed her eyes at him while she waited for his answer.
“You are a suspicious one, aren’t you,” said Marroo. “What is your name, by the way?”
“I’m Pweet,” she answered.
“Don’t worry about that drink, Pweet. It’s just a mild tranquilizer used all over the galaxy for anxiety attacks and nausea during unusual flight patterns. Like our quick liftoff. I didn’t want you to pass out, or even worse, throw up. That would be unpleasant for both of us strapped in this small room in zero g.”
“OK. I can understand that,” said Pweet. “But you didn’t answer my question about why you need to be so handsome.”
“Ah…hmm,” said Marroo. “Well, you see, I fill a certain role in my society. I’m from the Woogah planet, by the way. Yes, this role requires attractive males. But it’s not something we often tell people from other planets about. It’s part of our culture, and alien species usually do not understand. Do you understand?
“No, I don’t,” said Pweet.
“See. That’s what I mean,” said Marroo.
Pweet tugged at her long silver hair.
Why is he being so obtuse? she wondered. It sounds like he might be hiding something from me.
“Look over here,” said Marroo.
He stared into Pweet’s eyes. The clouds in his eyes started to move and swirl. She stared back. A bit of a sullen stare. It had been a rough day.
Marroo looked away and squeezed his temples with a strong blue hand.
“It’s not working! Why is it not working? Could this be from the cold storage?” he said.
“What are you talking about?” Pweet asked.
“Never mind. Never mind,” said the strange man in a lighter tone. “Let’s talk about the trip. Don’t you want to know where we’re going?”
“Of course I want to know!” Pweet answered with excitement back in her voice. “Are we going to explore the unknown galaxy for new species like the Verdantes do?”
“That’s exactly right,” said Marroo. “But first, we’re going to stop at my home planet to pick up supplies for the trip. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great!” said Pweet. “How far is that?”
“It’s only three months from here in warp space,” said Marroo. “A quick trip. And I’ll have you for a companion, so I won’t need to go into cold storage again out of boredom. It will be perfect!”
“Right,” said Pweet with less enthusiasm.
She rested her chin in one hand and considered what providing entertainment for this strange alien in his small ship for the next three months might be like.
Pweet’s eyes turned toward the large view screens on the wall behind Marroo. One showed the cloud-covered blue and green ball that was Earth growing smaller and smaller. Another showed the stars visible from Earth. The feeling of being pressed into her seat continued as the space ship raced away from Earth and toward the stars.
Marroo considered the Earth female seated across from him. His eyes took in long silver hair that shimmered over a trim, fit figure. Creamy tan skin, just like Antaska’s, but a face with larger lips and a cleft chin. In fact, Pweet might be even more beautiful than Antaska, who could probably be described as more cute than beautiful. While it was true that Pweet was beautiful, stunningly beautiful, she wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. Her personality was also quite different from Antaska’s.
But the important thing is her amazing beauty, he told himself. Wrapped in her arms, I’ll forget all about Antaska. Just as soon as I recover from the effects of cold storage on my manly power to induce hypnotic love. Yes, we’ll be together. Meanwhile, I’ll make her ready for our encounter by courting her favor. No woman can resist my handsome face and hot, muscled body.
Marroo reached up and wrapped a hand behind his head, flexing his arm so that Pweet could check out his biceps. He looked for her reaction, but she seemed to be watching the view screens behind him.
Hmm. This might be more difficult that usual. What do I really know about these Earth women after all? he pondered. Well, as soon as I’m back to normal, I’ll set the spell on her.
He leaned back in his chair and placed his other hand behind his head as well. Pweet looked away and around the small bridge.
“How long will we be moving up like this?” she asked. “Will we be strapped in like this for the whole trip? I’m going to need to go to the bathroom soon.”
“Ah! You mean waste elimination, yes?” said Marroo. “In just about an hour—one twenty-fourth of your Earth’s rotation around your sun—we’ll stop this upward acceleration. Then you’ll be able to get up and go to my elimination cubicle down that hallway.”
He pointed toward one of two doorways leading from the bridge.
<
br /> “And then what?” asked Pweet.
“Then we’ll have reached enough distance from Earth to slip into warp space. Once we’re in there, we’ll be able to move around the ship as much as we want. Do you know what warp space is?” Marroo asked her.
“Of course. I learned all about warp space in space school,” Pweet said with a wave of an elegant hand. “Well, they taught us that’s how the Verdantes travel at sub-light speed, but not what it is or how it works,” she admitted.
“Of course not,” said Marroo. “Your species can’t understand or use warp space because they aren’t telepathic yet. That only comes along with the development of telepathy. And then space travel becomes possible. But even telepathic species only understand enough about warp space to be able to use it to travel. All of the species that I’ve heard of anyway.”
“Oh,” said Pweet.
The corners of her mouth turned down, and she sat back in her chair, looking away from him.
Something clicked in Marroo’s mind.
Wait! he thought. Maybe the problem isn’t my power. Maybe the problem is her. Could it be that she has no telepathic powers at all? Because my hypnotic power to induce love works only on telepathic females. I assumed all Earth females were starting to become telepathic, but that might not be true. Antaska might be an unusual case. Maybe I should test her.
He looked over at Pweet. Her eyes were half closed as if she were bored or about to take a nap.
Marroo spoke to Pweet in a loud telepathic voice.
“Hello! Pweet! Can you hear me? I need to know if you’re telepathic,” he mentally yelled a long string of questions at her.
“Aarrgh! Aarrgh!” Pweet yelled back out loud.
She clenched her head in both hands.
Yes! That headache when I yelled at her mentally shows that she must have some telepathic ability, Marroo realized. But she’s not fully telepathic yet. The weakening natural barriers of a non-telepathic but developing species are there. And that pain means they’re breaking. I just need to break them down all the way, and then she will fall under my hypnotic spell of love.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!” Pweet demanded.
Marroo stopped the mental yelling.
Pweet took her hands down and shook her shiny silver-haired head.
“What was that?” she asked. “That was awful. They told us in space school that space travel with the Verdantes wouldn’t be painful or uncomfortable. Don’t you have the same technology as they do?”
“Don’t worry,” Marroo reassured her. “Of course no two alien species have the same technology, but our technology is better. Travel with me will be quite comfortable and enjoyable, I promise you.”
“Then why did I just feel that terrible pain in my head if your technology is so great and comfortable?” Pweet asked him.
Marroo thought up a fast excuse.
“Whatever you felt wasn’t from my me or my technology,” said Marroo. “I didn’t feel anything. If you felt pain in your head, perhaps the Verdantes are probing for you mentally. They’re powerful telepaths, you know. If they noticed your absence, that’s how they might search for you. But we’re almost to the entrance point to warp space, so no need to worry.”
“Right. I really doubt that the Verdantes have noticed I’m gone or that they’d bother to look for me,” said Pweet.
She sighed and slouched.
“If you don’t think they’d care that I’m taking you, then you don’t know the Verdantes,” Marroo assured her. “They’re possessive property owners, and they consider you to be their property. They would definitely be after you.”
Did Pweet seem to perk up at those last words?
Again, Marroo was confused by why this female kept saying the Verdantes had no interest in her.
Is she flawed in some way? he wondered. She’s more feisty and outspoken than reserved, quiet Antaska. Maybe the Verdantes can’t handle such a female. But the Woogahs can.
Marroo chuckled telepathically.
Pweet rubbed her forehead.
“Do you really think they’re looking for me?” she asked.
Chapter 8
Meanwhile, on the Woogah planet—Marroo’s home planet—someone else was getting headaches too.
Eegor the former fitness instructor clutched his head and moaned. Whenever any of the alien women who had been Nestgorm’s slaves passed near, he suffered in this way.
“Keep them back from me! Keep them away!” he pleaded to his fellow travelers from the Verdante planet, Apostrophe and Pooquali Eeeepp.
“But Eegor, they adore you, and you said you’re attracted to them,” Pooquali answered.
Pooquali shook his part-reptilian head.
“That’s right,” said Apostrophe. “You told us how happy you were to be here. You said this was the perfect place for you, but all you do is complain about it.”
She lifted a hand and ran it down the triangles of hair, or maybe scales—Eegor wasn’t sure what that stuff was—that covered her greenish gray head and shoulders.
“Of course I’m attracted to them, but I can’t get anywhere near them without getting these massive headaches. Do you know why that is?” he asked the two young semi-humanoids.
“We don’t know,” Pooquali answered for both of them. He scratched a thin, scaly arm with a sharp-clawed hand. “Why don’t you stay back here in Nestgorm’s office until we figure it out.”
Nestgorm, the elderly Woogah owner of the slave work plant, sat unmoving in a hard-backed chair in the corner. He’d been sitting there for the last three months. Nestgorm had spent most of his life enslaving alien females through hypnosis. But now Pooquali and Apostrophe had put him in their own species’ type of hypnotic trance.
“I’d rather not spend all my time with that guy. He’s creepy,” said Eegor.
“Well he doesn’t have to stay here,” said Apostrophe. “We can move him out to the old quarters where the women used to sleep. Then we’ll get one of them who does subatomic particle drafting to fix this place up for you.”
“Like a palace,” said Pooquali, and both Eeeepps bobbed their long snouts in agreement.
“Fine! Just get him out of here first,” said Eegor.
The Eeeepps turned toward Nestgorm.
“Stand!” ordered Apostrophe.
Nestgorm stood.
“Walk that way!” said Pooquali.
He gestured with a skinny arm toward the door.
Nestgorm walked. The two Eeeepps followed him out the doorway, directing him as they went.
Nestgorm’s mind lived in a faraway place because of the trance set on him by the two Eeeepps. He had no control over himself and couldn’t do anything except by their directions. Without interest or understanding, he watched his feet plod along, carrying his body down the hallway.
The work plant had been transformed to something almost unrecognizable since the Eeeepps arrived. Nestgorm’s eyes looked, but what he saw didn’t mean anything to him in his trance-like state. The alien females from all over the galaxy who had been his slaves now ran his factory. Those with technological skills had automated it. Under his control, the women had rushed back and forth carrying heavy burdens. Now machinery did most of the work. Yet the factory produced even more goods than it ever had under Nestgorm’s management.
Nestgorm watched and listened to everything happening around him, but his blank mind couldn’t register anything except the Eeeepp’s orders. The hundred alien females in the factory had been under a similar mindless compulsion to follow Nestgorm’s orders. But now, they were freed of their compulsion to love and please him. They were busy pursuing other activities of their choice. And the choice of many was the pursuit of the un-Earthly attractive and buff Eegor.
“Hey Apostrophe! Hi Pooquali! Hi Nestgorm!” a feathered female humanoid greeted them all when they passed her in the hall. “Where’s Eegor?”
She ruffled up the halo of colorful feathers sprouting from her arms and back.
; “Eegor has a headache, Vurreeka. He needs some time alone,” said Ap0strophe.
“Is there anything I can do for Eegor?” asked Vurreeka hopefully.
“Yes, give him some space. He needs it,” said Pooquali.
“Oh,” said Vurreeka with a pout of her beaky mouth. “Where are you taking Nestgorm?” she asked.
“We’re taking him out to the old slave quarters to get him out of Eegor’s way,” said Apostrophe.
“OK,” said Vurreeka. “Don’t forget to feed him out there.”
“Uh huh,” said Pooquali.
They led Nestgorm out of the high-tech factory, across a courtyard, and into the run-down wooden building. Antaska had lived there as his slave only three months earlier. But she’d been rescued right before Eegor, Pooquali, and Apostrophe arrived.
Pooquali gave the rickety door a light push, and it swung open. Small critters nearby skittered away in all directions.
“Go on in,” said Apostrophe, gesturing Nestgorm toward the door.
Nestgorm entered, and the door swung shut behind him. The two Eeeepps didn’t stick around to see where he went inside the building.
Chapter 9
M. Mort woke up to a screeching sound in his mind. Like a giant strip of Velcro ripping open. He recognized the noise of a fast space ship tearing out of warp space.
A sigh escaped him along with the comforting blanket of sleep as he remembered the events of the day before. M. Mort tipped his head back and scowled upward.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” he said to himself telepathically.
“What’s that! Who’s that!” M. Mort heard the sound of many adolescent voices shouting mentally from outside his slice of a room.
Then the sound of running space-booted feet. Heading toward the adult section, he supposed.
Not feeling any rush, M. Mort climbed out of bed and began his morning routine.
He thought about his plans for the day. I guess I need to pick out a human today, or I won’t be able to travel in space.
He trudged over to the dining hall to have breakfast. Only a scattering of diners were there.
Xeno Relations Page 4
