Alien Zookeeper's Abduction: A Sci-Fi Alien Abduction Romance

by Zara Zenia

  "Sounds weird," Jewel said, shrugging. "But I can dig it."

  "I will move first," he said primly. "You mirror my actions. If I step toward you to the right, you step toward me the same way, so that we are always circling one another and always facing one another and always maintaining this precise distance."

  He moved his hand toward her, and Jewel pulled hers back to keep the distance between them. He smiled and nodded in satisfaction.

  "Good, like that. Now your feet."

  He stepped forward, turning as he did, and Jewel stumbled a little as she tried to guess where he was moving. His motions were smooth, practiced, with the kind of careful, flowing efficiency of Tai Chi. There was certainly something beautiful in the way he stroked her cheek, ran his hands down her arms, pulled her hips toward him, all while keeping an inch of distance between them. She frowned as she tried to match the moves and failed, bumping into him.

  "Try again," he said, not seeming nearly as annoyed as he'd been when she messed up with the terms of address. "Do not think about it too hard. Do not try to assume where I will be. Focus on where I am. Focus on nothing but me."

  Jewel swallowed around an unexpected tightness in her throat and tried to follow his advice, but it was easier said than done. Eventually, he stopped and began showing her the moves by themselves, putting them together slowly. It was frustrating. She'd never been much of a dancer and she couldn't seem to get the hang of it. But it was definitely more enjoyable than pronouns.

  They practiced dancing for more than an hour before Jewel begged to stop and eat, and then they returned to etiquette. How to hold herself, where to look and stand, what was offensive and to which cultural groups. Jewel hated all of it. Politeness was not exactly something she'd ever cultivated. But in the evening, she'd go for her run and he would follow, and for a few blissful hours, he would forget his stiff formality and lie beside her, laughing at her dumb jokes and insulting her food. That was worth a few hours of aggravation.

  A month slid by that way, as others had before it. There was no day or night here except for the fake sun in the Earth habitat. It was easy to lose time, especially when she stayed as busy as Kay kept her. They were together nearly every moment of the day, and he slept beside her at night despite his complaining about the discomfort of the flat bed. Jewel found herself telling him things she'd never told anyone.

  "It was stupid," she said as they practiced dancing, moving smoothly away from the slow sweep of his arm, mirroring the motion with her own. "I pretty much knew by the time Basic ended that I'd messed up. I get angry too easily and I don't like authority. Not a good mix with the military. But I pressed forward with it anyway like an idiot, racking up disciplinary charges. Nothing major at first, until . . ."

  She shifted uncomfortably and screwed up a move. Kay's hand was meant to pass gracefully over her head and whacked her in the ear instead.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, frowning. It wasn't just about her ear, which she was rubbing in annoyance.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just not great memories."

  "You do not need to tell me," he said. "I don't mind."

  "It's not a big deal," she said, shaking it off and starting the dance again. "It happens to lots of people. I had this superior officer. He wanted to . . . you know. And I didn't have the luxury of saying no."

  This time, it was Kay who missed a move. Jewel didn't give him the option of stopping, continuing the dance until he caught up.

  "So I acted like it was my idea," she went on. "Bragged about it even, bagging a superior, like I wanted it. And he kept coming back. For a minute, I even thought we were in a relationship. But it was . . . messing me up. I started getting in more trouble. Doing stupid shit. Trying to get someone to notice, I think. Because you didn't talk about that kind of thing. Nearly got myself killed a few times. Sometimes, I think that's what I was after. But he kept covering for me, and he had a lot of reach, so . . . then one day, we got these new recruits in and there was this girl with them. Really young, stupid. Pretty. Shouldn't have been there any more than me. And I saw him looking at her. And I lost it. I’ve never been good at controlling my temper. Might have killed him if I'd had the chance. Still kind of wish I'd gotten a few more punches in before they pulled me off."

  Kay was silent, still dancing but not really paying attention to the moves. He watched her instead, his expression unreadable.

  "The worst part is," Jewel said, pretending she couldn't feel the angry tears in her eyes. "After, when I was waiting for the disciplinary hearing and the discharge that was coming, everyone was saying I did it because I was jealous. Like I was just some crazy, possessive girlfriend. I can't blame them with the bullshit I came up with to justify going along with him. But it stung. The thing is, the thought of him doing to her what he'd done to me made me so sick I couldn't sleep. And the thing is because I went and got my dumb ass kicked out, I don't know what happened to her. I couldn't even warn her. I don't know what happened and I couldn't do anything—"

  She had to stop dancing, breathing too hard as she struggled to bring herself under control. Kay reached for her cautiously, asking without words, and when she didn't move away, he pulled her into his arms and let her hide her face in his shoulder until she stopped shaking. They sank down into the grass, and he was silent until she could breathe normally again.

  "Sorry," she muttered into his shirt.

  "There is nothing to apologize for," he said. "You did nothing wrong."

  "I hate that it still messes me up this much," she said. "I left the whole damn planet behind and it's still—”

  "I know very well how we carry these things with us," Kay said softly. "Even light-years away. Would you like to hear how I was assigned to the Diviner?"

  "Is it funny?" Jewel asked, voice rough with emotion.

  "Not unless you have an unusually dark sense of humor," he replied. "Do you still want to hear it?"

  "Yeah," she said, relaxing against his chest.

  "I was part of an attempted coup," he said plainly. "Our government is not as simple as I have made it seem. Before the Council and the castes, we were divided into our cultural groups and ruling families made the decisions. When things changed, the first Council came from those ruling families. But not all cultural groups supported the change, and so they were not represented in the Council and now live in a system that was designed to advantage others over them. The old ruling families still have much influence and fight each other for power and for seats in the Council. I told you before that a member of my cultural group has never been on the Council. That is because our ruling family was one of those that rejected the change. I am descendant of that family."

  "So you're a prince?" Jewel asked, impressed.

  "The term is inaccurate," Kay replied. "But for the sake of argument, yes. It did not really affect my upbringing, however. My cultural group, and thus my lineage, had little power. But then I began to rise through the ranks of the Ingenuus and the Duelists, and it began to seem as though I would be promoted to the Perita. I was approached by another of these old families. They were planning a political upset that would oust one of their rival families from the Council. In return for my help, they promised to use their influence to ensure me a seat on the Council, the first for my people. I agreed. But I underestimated the ruthlessness of their politics. The families would do anything to gain an advantage over each other. It was an art to them, and as all Ra'hom, they each strived to be the very best at their chosen art. I saw murders and worse, people bought and sold for just an inch of leverage. But by then, it was too late for me to back out. The family that had approached me was gathering more support. Other families were allying with it, and soon, there was a tangible split between those supporting one family and those supporting their rivals. At last, an attempt was made on my life, and I killed my attacker, not knowing he was a prominent member of the rival family. Everything erupted into chaos as revenge spurred revenge back and forth until, before I knew
it, I was standing at the heart of a civil war.”

  "Holy shit," Jewel said, wide-eyed.

  "Holy shit indeed," Kay agreed. "I cannot understate the horror I felt or the carnage that resulted. I struggled to find the right side, some meaning in all the bloodshed so that I could fight for something meaningful. I became a figurehead to several factions who supported my claim to the Council, all for their own convoluted reasons. I led armies and won the kind of glorious victories I had once dreamed of being a part of. Even now that I am shamed, they were impressive enough to still be part of my designation. But I took no joy and found no glory in any of them. Eventually, I came to realize the only right choice, the only cause worth fighting for, was an end to the war."

  "I'm guessing you didn't win though," Jewel assumed.

  "Any end to the senseless slaughter was a victory," Kay said. "But no, the family I was originally allied with was defeated and their rivals took power. Most of those who had incited the original conflict had died in battle or were executed afterward. An exception was made for me. I could not be set free. The family hated me for going against them. I had personally killed many of their number. And it would have been a scar on their honor, considering my role in the spark that started the war. But neither could they execute me. Their support was still tenuous, and many groups which had considered me a hero still remained, their allegiance up for grabs. And for the common Ra'hom, unaware of the political nuances, my victories in battle and my skill at my chosen art deserved to be honored. They could not kill me without risking starting another war. So I was spared and 'honored' with the title of Curator of the Diviner. And then they removed all other crew and assigned me enough long, lonely missions to last the rest of my life, exiled to the fringes of space where I could be of no further influence on their power games."

  "That sucks," Jewel said emphatically.

  "It really does," Kay agreed. "But I am at peace with it. I never wanted to fight my own people. I wanted to make the world a better place. Now, I just want to earn my freedom from this ship so I can rebuild my life."

  "You're welcome, by the way," Jewel said. He surprised her by bending to kiss the top of her head.

  "Are you ready to dance again?" he asked. "I think you almost had it that time."

  "Yeah," she agreed. "Let's do it."

  "We do not have much time to waste," Kay said, standing and offering her a hand up from the grass. "The party is tomorrow, after all."

  Chapter 11

  The party was to be held in the central arc of the ship so that the guests could wander as they liked past the exhibits. Ra'hom decorating left something to be desired, in Jewel's opinion. The fashion seemed to be artfully draped fabric and not much else. And the music was, as Kay had warned her, kind of weird, if not terrible. It was pitched down so low that it felt primarily like bass rumble to her, with an odd, wavy melody almost lost in the fuzz. Like listening to a car with jacked up speakers and the bass cranked to eleven roll past your bedroom window at three in the morning playing trance music.

  She watched from the glass bow as the second ship docked with the Diviner, tugging at the uncomfortable outfit Kay had insisted she wear, which had long, robe-like sleeves but was short and stiff around the torso, like a strangely shaped, oversized kimono. The second ship was considerably smaller than the Diviner but looked somewhat fancier. Like a luxury cruiseliner alongside an aircraft carrier.

  "They are about to start boarding procedure and decontamination," Kay said, stepping up behind her. He was at peak aloofness today, in his longest and most regal robe, standing as tall as possible with his hands folded behind his back and his gaze focused above her head. "Are you nervous?"

  "No," Jewel lied instantly. "I'm fine. What do I care about a bunch of snobby aliens?"

  "I thought you were aware of the significance of this event," Kay said, looking down to blink at her in mild confusion. "I did not think human memory was so short. The Peritas will have a huge impact on whether you are declared intelligent, and, by extension, how the Ra'hom will treat your planet."

  "I know," Jewel said impatiently. "I didn't forget! I'm trying to be cool about it."

  "Oh, I see," Kay said. "You are lying to yourself. What a curious habit. Is it common for humans?"

  Jewel glared at him.

  "You are going to have to get used to these questions if you expect to convince the Peritas that you're an intelligent being," Kay pointed out. "There's no point in getting annoyed."

  Jewel huffed, then took a deep breath to calm herself down.

  "You're right," she said. "You're always right. I'm nervous, okay? I just wish you'd picked someone a little better at the whole socializing thing to represent my entire species."

  "From what I know of your species," Kay said mildly, "none of you are particularly good at it. You were probably the best possible choice."

  Jewel started to react in annoyance until, belatedly, she realized he was complimenting her, albeit in a rather backhanded way.

  "Thank you?" she said, unsure.

  "I should go and greet them as they leave de-con," Kay said, sweeping away. "You should remain out of sight until everyone is settled."

  "Fine," Jewel grumbled. "You're the boss."

  Kay paused, then he turned back and, bending to catch her chin, kissed her softly.

  "Everything is going to be fine," he said and turned away again, leaving her behind, her lips still tingling.

  She was tempted to follow him. She'd see how animalistic the Peritas thought she was when she was shaking their hands and complimenting their stuffy robes and doing her best stewardess impression as they got off the plane. But she'd promised to trust Kay with this. She reluctantly did as she was told, lingering behind a pair of draped ombre curtains near the far end of the room.

  Kay had prepared a small platform there for her demonstration. She was having a weird sensation of stage fright. She'd never had a problem being in front of people before, but then her life and the fate of her planet hadn't exactly hung in the balance before. She trusted Kay, but she couldn't help wondering what if. What if she messed up? What if it didn't convince them? What if nothing was enough to get through to them?

  She realized she wasn't sure what would happen to her. Would she remain an exhibit on the Diviner? A curiosity and nothing more for the rest of her life? The thought was galling but not as unbearable as it had once been. She found it kind of reassuring, truthfully. Even if she messed up, she would have Kay and all the habitats of a thousand worlds to run through, and a computer that could make her anything she wanted, you know, once it had processed a little more of the Earth data and could understand her better. It wouldn't be the end of the world. She was happy here, she realized with a bit of a jolt. Genuinely happy. How long had it been since she'd felt that?

  She was smiling, thinking about Kay. Imagining dinner this evening and spending the night with him had brought a genuine smile to her face. And not just the sex either, but just being with him. He made her happy.

  She focused back on what was happening as she saw the air rail in the center of the room light up, signaling that someone was riding it in this direction. She watched it through a crack in the curtains, her heart beating faster in spite of herself.

  The Peritas arrived in a stately train, floating into the room on the air rail in groups of three and four, a column of beautiful, unearthly beings in gauzy robes which drifted on the air like an image from a fairy tale. The air rail didn't rocket them around as it did her and Kay but carried them forward at an elegant glide.

  Their colors mesmerized Jewel. They seemed to come in every shade imaginable, deep blues and dark purples, lime and jade greens, even striking reds and yellows, all of them decorated with bright stripes, striations, speckles, and fades. They were all taller than any human, but in shape, they varied just as much. They were thin and lanky and round and soft and muscular and lean, and not a single shape didn't seem to suit them.

  They were, every one, more bea
utiful than any human Jewel had ever seen. Perhaps spending so much time with Kay had made it easier for her to see past their starkly alien features. Now all she could think was that humanity must seem incredibly plain and shabby in comparison. What must Kay think when he looked at her? An ugly voice in her head replied that he probably thought she was the best he could do in his situation.

  The party began, and Jewel watched, spotting Kay among the guests, moving through them with a grace that was formal and yet comfortable, as though he'd been handling such crowds all his life. For all she knew, he had been.

  Kay had told her how freely the Ra'hom exchanged physical contact, but she hadn't really imagined it until now, seeing it happen. They were never not touching one another. They stood with their shoulders against their companions, reached out for the arms of those they conversed with, held one another on a whim without a hint of self-consciousness. Even Kay, though he was not embraced as casually as the others, was constantly touched.

  He greeted each guest by holding out his arms to them. They would return the gesture, and he would slide his wrists against theirs until their forearms lay flat against one another, then they touched foreheads lightly. He'd greeted her that way before and she recognized it. Though that polite touch of foreheads had usually turned into kissing when he did it with her. More importantly, for the first time, Kay wasn't leaning desperately into the contact. He didn't look pent up and starving as he always did. Jewel felt almost cruel for not noticing before. She'd never been enough. This was what he needed.

  The party hadn't been going long before she felt a sudden change in the attitude of the room. There was a sudden tension in the air, and she realized quickly that it was originating from Kay.