Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance

by Juniper Leigh

  “It looks wonderful, Mother,” Tymer offered.

  Everyone else was eating and no one was making a weird face, so I picked up my spoon and dipped it into the bisque. It had a familiar consistency, even if the color was strange. But when I tasted it, my taste buds sang. It tasted like the creamiest lobster bisque I had ever had, thick and flavorful with herbs and spices I could not even begin to identify. Had the items come from Qetesh, I wondered? And if so, could I be taught how to cook it? But I was getting ahead of myself. My heart dropped into my stomach like a coin into a wishing well when I remembered that Odrik might not live to see another meal, and I might be forced to go back to Earth without him. Suddenly, I lost my appetite and pushed my soup bowl away.

  “You don’t like it?” Rebecca asked. She was sitting directly across from me, and she spoke softly enough to indicate that her words weren’t meant for anyone else.

  “It’s delicious,” I replied. “I’m just not terribly hungry.”

  “Upset stomach, hm?” she asked, and I gave a start, locking my eyes on hers. She was lovely, with red hair and green eyes, and she proffered a small, knowing smile.

  “No, but — ”

  “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’ll be fine, no matter what happens.”

  “Did Tymer tell you?” She bobbed her head in the affirmative, and I rolled my eyes. “That bastard.”

  “You’re a great success, Novalyn,” Rebecca went on between spoonfuls of soup. “I don’t think you realize just how precious you are.”

  I quirked a brow and canted my head to the side, aware suddenly that Odrik had focused his attention on our conversation, while everyone else was busy chatting amongst themselves about the food. It made me want to scream, how everyone was pretending that this was all so terribly normal.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The Echelon knew that humans and Qeteshi were compatible, but there have yet to be any offspring produced,” she explained. “Yours would be the first.”

  I blinked, my eyes wide and blue as robin’s-egg china saucers. “But… I just assumed, I mean — ”

  “I was the first human to be impregnated by a Qeteshi male, but I was not able to carry that pregnancy to term.” Rebecca cast a sad glance over to Ro, and I wondered suddenly just what the nature of that relationship was. “And not by my own choice, mind you.”

  “What happened?” It was, perhaps, a rude question. But under the circumstances, all bets were off and all decorum was going to fall gaily to the wayside.

  “Not all pregnancies last,” she said plainly, her voice heavy with an unspoken regret, “that’s been true for all of known time. And after that one failed, well…” She shrugged, her shoulders rounding forward. “I guess I didn’t have the heart to try for another.”

  The salad course was presented then, with the pickled talozin tasting something like a pitless olive. I was less enthusiastic about that than I had been the bisque, but noted it might be a nice addition to a very dry martini. I didn’t know what to say to Rebecca, so I glanced over to Odrik for backup and he immediately chimed in with questions about how she’d found Qetesh during her stint thereon, and they took off chatting about the weather, leaving me largely to drown out the chatter around me and to turn my thoughts inward.

  If I did have this baby, could I care for it properly? Would my body have the antibodies it would need to survive on a foreign planet? And furthermore, what would it even look like? Would it come out with horns and scales? Would it be considerably larger than a human baby? Would there be complications during the birthing process? And was there even healthcare on Qetesh? Maybe midwives, but who, if all of the women in the tribe had died off?

  I caught Tymer staring at me, his desires written so plainly on his face that I was embarrassed for him and had to look away. I had broken into a sweat by the time the main course was served, pheasant that was beautifully plated, alongside a dollop of purple mush: roldono root, no doubt. I hoped very much that it tasted like garlic mashed potatoes. I took a tentative spoonful of the stuff into my mouth and was greeted pleasantly: it was like mashed sweet potatoes and caramelized marshmallow, all in one goopy purple pile.

  And what kind of education would a child get on that planet? There didn’t seem to be much of an infrastructure. Would we ever be permitted to visit Earth? Or would we be relegated to Qeteshi for the rest of our days? I was starting to spin out, caught in anxious thought loops that all led to the desperate and abject misery that would, I thought, inevitably be suffered by my offspring and myself if we were to stay on this foreign planet. And would I make any friends? Or would I be lonely?

  I was beginning to hyperventilate. Amidst the civil dinnertime conversation that was happening all around me, my thoughts grew to a fever pitch inside my agitated brain, and halfway through our entree, I tossed my napkin onto the table and excused myself.

  The room was expansive and I walked quickly toward the elevator, but with two guards positioned there, I didn’t dare press the button. So I was left to wander awkwardly around the periphery of the room, drifting in and out of everyone’s natural line of vision. I could feel their eyes on me; the conversation had dimmed in my wake, and I felt suddenly silly, like a teenager having a temper tantrum.

  But I couldn’t turn around to look at everyone, so I just leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the picture window and stared out at the surrounding black.

  I don’t know how long I was there — long enough for my breath to fog the glass in front of me — but eventually Rebecca joined me and stood so that we were shoulder to shoulder. She was still for a long stretch of silence, until she took in a slow, deep breath of air and spoke.

  “I believe,” she gently intoned, “that it would be all but impossible to go back to your previous life.” I lifted my head and turned to look at her, eyes wide with the questions I couldn’t form the words to ask. “After all that you’ve seen, after all that you know, how could you reasonably expect to live a life full of any less adventure?” She crossed her arms in front of her and stared straight ahead at a sea of distant stars and sighed quietly. “Do you know the expression, ‘you can’t go home again’?” I bobbed my head in affirmation. “Well, you can go to the physical place, but it’ll never feel like home to you. Not anymore. Not after this.”

  “You think I should stay,” I said at last.

  “I think it’s absolutely necessary for you to stay,” she answered. “But the choice is yours to make.”

  “It all just seems so… impossible.”

  “To the version of yourself that grew up on Earth, knowing that there was nothing else out there, it is impossible,” Rebecca said, her voice smooth and sweet as honey. “But now,” she went on, “you know better.” She smiled a soft sort of smile down at me and hooked her arm through mine. “Come,” she said. “They’ve finished their desserts. It’s time to discuss the details of combat.”

  CHAPTER 19: ODRIK

  “So, it is settled then.” Mireena was a regal creature, and I trusted her to adjudicate the goings-on to be best of her considerable capability. But I could tell that my opponent, Fegar Gael, did not hold her in such high esteem. “It will be hand-to-hand combat.”

  “Well, now, just a moment,” Fegar protested after Tymer had taken the liberty of translating. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed at a pair of weary eyes. He was nervous; as well he should be. “I did not say that I had decided. I was merely suggesting a possible option.” As Fegar was the reigning Chieftain of our clan, he was given the option of deciding what weapons we would bring into the ring. Tymer, eager to see my demise, had suggested guns, but neither Fegar nor I had ever fired one, and I could sense that he did not feel confident in his aim. He was older than I was, and slower to boot. No, he needed something where he could wield his strength, where my speed would not put him at too great a disadvantage.

  “Come now, Mr. Gael,” Mireena said, an edge to her voice, “we must come
to some sort of an accord. I will not sit here all night while you make your decision. We have had our meal, we have had our drinks, and now is the time to set forth the rules and turn in for the night.”

  The ambassadors were leaning in, casting curious glances between Fegar and myself, no doubt attempting to ascertain who the victor might be. Tymer had his shrewd eyes fixed on me. Mireena was sipping daintily from a glass. And Novalyn was slouched, staring absently down at her hands which rested in her lap.

  “Fine,” Fegar growled. “Fists, then — no. Staves. Yes. Staves.”

  “Now it is settled. So let it be known that Fegar Gael, the Qeteshi Chieftain, will battle Odrik Nuh’ar to the death. The weapon of choice is the staff, which will be provided to each combatant by the Echelon. The victor shall be the leader of the Qet, and my liaison for future humanoid relocation efforts.”

  At this, Novalyn perked up: “You’ll bring more women to Qetesh?”

  “Of course,” Mireena confirmed. “Yours was merely a preliminary group. We wanted to see how a small number of you fared on the planet’s surface, how you got on with your mates, and how well you procreated. But it is my hope that every Qeteshi male shall have a mate within the next two solar cycles.”

  “But you will, um… ask them first, yes?” Nova further inquired.

  Mireena did not smile, but she did nod. “Of course, my dear.”

  Novalyn breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly bolstered by this news.

  “Now” — Mireena rose to her feet, her fingertips pressed against the tabletop — “we should all turn in. Shuttles will arrive at daybreak to take us back to the surface of the planet, whereupon we shall waste no time in beginning the proceedings. Gentlemen, rest well, and good luck to you both.”

  We all rose to standing and shook hands with one another — it was all very civilized, for a meeting that would end in a fight to the death. For my part, I felt rather dazed as Novalyn and I made our way back to the suite. The ship made me feel ill at ease, and I doubted that I would get much good sleep atop a mattress made of feathers. Everything was too soft, too easy, and it put me off.

  Once we were back in our room, Novalyn dropped heavily down onto one of the plush sitting cushions and heaved a sigh. I would have gone to her, but I felt odd, not of that space. I longed for my tent and my furs, my carvings and the shuddering cold of the winternights that had first brought us together. I did not know how to be with her in this shining, expensive place; I did not know how to be myself in it.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do?” I asked, hoping that she would put all of my deepest fears to rest.

  She shook her head, not willing to look me in the eye. She was picking at the flesh around her nail beds, existing within that same pensiveness that had drawn her away from the dinner table. I had wanted to go to her, but when I rose to my feet, Rebecca Quimby had held out her hand to stop me in my tracks. “I will go,” she had said, wiping daintily at her mouth with her napkin. I had watched Rebecca go to my Novalyn where she stood by the picture window that framed a million stars. Ro Petathera had turned to me then and, in a voice gruff with lack of use, said, “Fear not, Odrik Nuh’ar. Your lady will not leave you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I lived it,” he said, a small smile playing across his lips.

  “Rebecca Quimby,” I said, and he nodded.

  “I loved her instantly, and I never dared to dream that she would stay with me.” He laid his fork down on his plate and laced his fingers again, resting his hands over the belly that had begun to bulge slightly with age. “She came to me, knowing precious little of the Qet and our culture. And it was nearly a year that we spent together before I bedded her, but I loved her desperately.” He grinned then, a devilish sort of grin. “And when she finally came to my bed, I was destroyed.” His demeanor shifted, his mouth took on a solemn line. “But even after we lost our child, she could not bear the thought of parting with me. I never had the strength to ask her to stay, and in fact I was prepared to send her home when the pregnancy failed. I had been mistaken in assuming that was what she wanted. Thus do I believe that is the mistake we make: when we love these strange creatures — so quickly, so completely, so desperately — we think there is no way they can love us back that much. But that is ego; and we are wrong.” He shifted in his chair so that he was leaning toward me. “Though they be smaller than we, and much softer, they are surely twice as strong.”

  I gave a vague sort of nod, if only to indicate that I had heard what he said. But I was not so sure that I believed him. Would she deign to stay with me? Could we be a family? Then, I could not help but ask him: “Why did you and Rebecca never try for another child?”

  He sniffed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes going into soft focus as he stared over at Rebecca where she stood with Novalyn. “She took the Qetling to term, but when it was stillborn, it nearly ripped out her womb when she delivered it. She simply could produce no further offspring. And it was quite a blow to her — to both of us.”

  “I am sorry,” I had said to him, this proud and aging warrior.

  “So am I,” he had replied.

  But then, in the private room I shared with my lady, I felt the heat of my blood rising into my face. I needed to know, needed reassurance. I could no longer exist in this state of questioning. My breathing was quick, my pulse the thrum of war drums in my chest. “I need you to tell me,” I said.

  “I cannot.”

  “You would have me go to my death, not knowing?”

  “I would not have you go to your death at all.” She stood then and raced toward me, taking my large hand in her small one. “Do not fight,” she pleaded. “You can run instead, you can take a shuttle and leave this place. You do not have to fight him, you can go… just — just go.”

  “What is there to live for if you do not stay with me?” My words surprised even me, and made all of the color drain out of her beautiful face. I withdrew my hand and crossed my arms over the broad expanse of my chest. I breathed, trying to make my heart slow down to a more manageable rate. “No,” I said, my voice sharper than I had intended it to be. “I will not run. I will fight. I will take back my position as a leader of my people. Because at least then, if I know I have them all to lead, I will have a purpose when you are gone.” She turned away from me then, pacing somewhat, and I longed to see the expression on her face. She crossed to the picture window and stared out into the dark.

  “I will not go,” she said, and I jerked my head to look at her. I could see that she smiled in her reflection in the glass; I think my jaw must have been hanging slack. “If you fight, and you win, and you live,” she said, “then I shall stay with you.”

  I parted the distance between us in three strong strides and swept her into my arms, bending to kiss her as I lifted her off of her feet. “And the baby?”

  “And we shall become a family.”

  I crushed her to my chest, rocking her gently back and forth, shocked by the wave of relief that swept over me. “You seemed so unsure — what has given you this change of heart?”

  She wriggled somewhat in my arms and I put her down again, but I had to touch her; I was gripping her by the shoulder. She dislodged me when she shrugged. “I spoke with Rebecca, and she said…”

  “What?”

  She shook her head; she seemed so distant somehow, so unsure. “She said I could never really go back to my life as I knew it, and I understand that she is right about that. So…”

  I nodded. “So you will stay because, why? Because you’re used to me now?” I furrowed my brow and tried to puzzle it out.

  “No, that isn’t it,” she protested and took my hand in hers. “But… I have to be honest with you, Odrik. I am not sure about this decision. I am just doing the best I can with the information that I have.”

  I nodded and turned away from her, troubled to find a lump in my throat.

  “I do love you, thou
gh,” she said, and I proffered the feint of a smile. “And I want you to live. Please.” She came around in front of me and gripped me by the fabric of my black shirt. “Please, do not die on me. I could not possibly bear it.”

  “And if I do, you’ll go home?”

  “I do not know,” she murmured.

  “Please,” I said and encircled her in an embrace. “Go home. If I am not there to care for you, I want you to go back to your home planet. It will be easier for you to take care of yourself there.”

  She gave a nod of her head. “If that is what you wish.”

  “It is.” Novalyn pursed her lips and I saw her eyes turn glassy with tears. “Novalyn…?” She deflated then into sobs that shook her to her core, and I hugged her to hold her upright.

  “You must not die,” she said. “I forbid it.”

  I grinned; I could hardly keep from laughing. “Yes, my lady,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I shall do as you say.”

  She sniffled and pulled away from me then, peering up at me with an expectant expression. She tugged her black shirt up over the top of her head, her breasts springing free, her nipples hardening in the cool air. Then she turned around and shimmied out of her pants, her bare bottom revealed in the dim light of our shared space. I swallowed hard, desperate to touch her, but wanting to prolong our moment for as long as I could. “Stand in the center of the room,” I said, my voice low with desire. “I want to look at you.”

  She obeyed and moved to stand in the middle of the sunken sitting space, framed by the picture window full of stars. She held herself straight, standing naturally with her feet planted on the floor, but after a few moments of me staring at her, she arched one sly brow and turned around. Bending at the waist, she climbed onto a cushion so that her knees sunk unto it. She was bent over, inviting me with a glimpse of her sex from between her thighs.