by Jay Kohl
Two men can take her to the stars…but she can choose only one.
With Earth long ago disintegrated into dust, Dr. Darla Wynter has been given the honor—more like a last, desperate hope—of choosing a compatible mate to join her seedbearer mission to save humankind from extinction.
She quickly realizes this will be no simple task. Golden-haired Marcus Olsen moves like a dancer in battle, and his pale eyes capture her like a tractor beam. Brad Hunter’s hauntingly dark features and bottomless obsidian gaze hint at secrets she shouldn’t want to know.
Both men are perfect potential mates. Both men are driven to join her on this critical quest. And both men share something else she never expected. Something that quickly turns her dispassionate, clinical decision into a heart-wrenching dilemma.
As the countdown to launch looms closer, Darla realizes forming a bond with one man will force her to leave one man behind—and break more than one heart. Unless she can change the rules so everyone wins…
Warning: Contains the kind of job interview that isn’t for the squeamish—or the prudish. Please affix your oxygen mask before reading to prevent hyperventilation.
The Alternate
Jay Kohl
Chapter One
Darla sat across from her boss, her spine stiff with tension as she waited for the latest decree. She’d been summoned to his office with little warning, and as she’d walked down the long corridor, she racked her brain in search of the reason. As far as she could remember, she’d committed no offence and her research had begun to show promise. Surely she wasn’t in trouble again?
In the past two months the man opposite had been hinting at big changes, and twice she’d been reprimanded for what she considered to be inconsequential infractions of research protocol. Was he finally going to demote her?
All sorts of rumors had been flying about the labs, but as yet nothing concrete had come of them. There’d also been whispered talk of urgent seedbearer missions. If true, she knew she’d be under consideration, despite Professor Stone’s obvious dislike of her. She was both young and fertile, the two vital assets for a colonizing seedbearer.
The first seedbearers—women still capable of giving birth—saved mankind from extinction two hundred years ago when the Earth had become a doomed environment. Given time, surely the current research could solve whatever hurdles they’d encountered on the various colonies.
She wasn’t the only female who’d be in contention, of course. She knew of a few women who’d recently given birth to offspring, though unfortunately all had been male. But she also knew that the man seated at the other side of the desk would make his decisions only when he was good and ready. And any amount of jockeying on her part wouldn’t make one iota of difference to the outcome.
“Are you listening, Dr. Wynter?”
With a slight shake, Darla focused her attention. “You were saying, Professor?”
He scrutinized her from beneath his thick, black brows, and she couldn’t help feeling like an errant schoolgirl even though her own qualifications were almost as impressive as his.
“As you know, your latest round of research, while showing some potential, has failed to remedy the preserved sperm motility situation and no amount of experimentation has so far determined a method to keep sperm alive outside a human host for more than nineteen hours. Freezing has resulted in such deterioration that no offspring are viable.”
He held up his index finger when she began to interrupt. “I know your experiments have yielded some…only a minute…percentage of usable cells. But this is not enough to be hopeful of a breakthrough any time soon.
“And now we have another, more pressing problem. It is not widely known, but recent data has uncovered that our moon is slowly descending toward the planet.”
Darla’s hands fisted in her lap as her heart began to beat faster. Why hadn’t there been a notification? Surely a catastrophe of that magnitude meant immediate evacuation?
“Sir, we must…” She leaned forward.
Professor Stone held up his hand to silence her. “Calm down, Dr. Wynter—the situation is not yet dire. While collision is not estimated to occur for another several hundred Earth years, gravitational effects are already beginning to be seen. The radiation wavelengths that have compromised fertility on other settlements in the solar system are a predicted side effect. In some sectors the readings have already risen.
“So we are forming seeding teams ahead of schedule, and much as I’d prefer someone else, after due consideration I must place you in charge of the first Interplanetary Seedbearer expedition…”
Finally! she thought. So it wasn’t just rumor and now she knew why. What was more, she’d been selected first—an honor she hadn’t dared believe would happen. Her heart began to pound harder even as she tried to breathe deeply and quell her inner excitement.
“…therefore Dr. Foster will need to accompany you…”
What? The hammering in her chest stilled almost instantly. Darla couldn’t believe it. The last thing she wanted was to be handcuffed, alone, with that dinosaur on a flight that would last many months or more. They had a fractious working relationship to say the least. Besides, how could they seed the planet when he was so old? Surely his sperm would be well past optimum. Who knew how long it would take for further missions to arrive to fulfill the mating role? It was usually a number of years for suitability testing to be completed. She knew her duty, had always known, but the very idea of mating with Foster made her shudder inwardly.
Darla was about to protest when Stone’s next words forced her into silence.
“Given the urgency of the situation, the usual two-person pods are being enlarged to accommodate three so an appropriate colleague can be included to act as alternate mate.”
Relief swept through her. At least she would be accompanied by someone better suited for the task, although she knew she’d have to endure Foster sometimes as well.
“Who has been chosen?” she asked, praying that the man would be someone she felt a degree of attraction for. She knew she shouldn’t have feelings about such an important role for mankind…yet her reading of historical texts had inspired some romantic notions within her. Notions completely out of place in the twenty-fourth century.
Professor Stone switched on the nearby vid screen and angled it toward her. Two images were displayed. “I’m not sure you have met either man, but it has come down to these two. Marcus Olsen and Brad Hunter. Both joined our research team in recent months from Pluto One.”
Pluto One was a newer outpost, settled only a hundred years ago. Unlike her home moon of Titan, the original Earth travelers hadn’t seeded Pluto before Earth imploded and all but destroyed the balance of the entire solar system. Saturn’s orbit had altered dramatically and the asteroid belt fragmented, causing a constant barrage intra-system collisions. Shockwaves still rocked their small scientific research station and radiation continued to have devastating effects on fertility amongst males.
Darla turned her attention to the images on the vid screen. Olsen appeared to be an imposing specimen, with strong musculature and an even stronger face. His hair was blond and his skin fair—genetically, a Nord. Hunter, by contrast was darker in coloring, with a slimmer face and a more lithe stature—a NatAm.
From what she could see either man would serve the required purpose. The list of qualifications for each man was equally impressive, with only minor variations in educational background and research specialty. Like all humans in the current century, between the ages of two and seven the mind was imprinted with standard educational knowledge of all the known sciences, mathematics, interplanetary geography and the tragic history an
d culture of all Earth races. From age eight, individuals specialized in specific research areas that most benefitted mankind’s prospects of survival. The two men’s résumés showed they’d both chosen to begin their specialty education in mechatronic/space engineering. Thus each would have the capacity to develop an outpost from the raw materials provided by the used transport pod.
Olsen had then gone into X-chromosome genome modification while Hunter was supervising research into controlled genomic pairing in conception to ensure genetic dominance of robust embryos. In other words, survival of the fittest by intervention.
Either man would be able to complement Darla’s own genetic research.
“When will we know which of the two men is most suitable?” she asked.
Stone eyed her speculatively over his commstation for a long moment. “That is up to you, my dear. As you can see both have excellent credentials and are proven fertile. You can interview them in the coming cycle and make your choice.”
“Do you have a preference, Professor?”
He shrugged and turned his attention back to the terminal before him. “None whatsoever. They are very similar in aptitude and genetic purity, and either would provide a good match for your DNA. Each comes from a multiple birth episode, which, for obvious reasons, is extremely desirable. Both are also highly qualified in terms of assisting your further research once you establish the new research station. My assistant has set up preliminary interviews with each man for you. It is currently the correct time in your cycle for fertilization, I believe?”
She nodded.
“The first, with Olsen, will occur this evening after eclipse. Hunter is scheduled for tomorrow. You have the five days of your current cycle to test compatibility. The launch occurs in sixteen Earth days.”
Darla burst from her seat. “Sixteen days! But isn’t that sudden? I assumed we’d have at least a season or two to prepare.”
Stone waved her back into her chair. “Of necessity, the Human Confederation has decided to bring the launch dates forward. A meteor shower is approaching the Sun and massive solar flares have been predicted for the coming two Earth years. If we don’t launch within the next fourteen cycles, we might not have another opportunity for several years, and by that time, damage to fertility could be terminal.
“The already low birth rate has halved in the past twenty Earth years. While the HC won’t create panic by admitting it, Titan is slowly dying. Pluto One is still in its infancy, and the Uranus settlement, like so may other stations, has been unable populate.” Stone leaned back in his chair and heaved a great sigh. “Seeding the universe is now imperative or the human race will most certainly cease to exist within the next millennia. Four pods will depart at regular intervals over the next year. You and Dr. Foster will head the research station.”
Subsiding, Darla took a deep breath and considered her future. For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to become a Pioneer Seedbearer. Mankind had steadily depleted since the destruction of the Earth. In the past four generations only one in five born on any of the current colonies was female. No amount of scientific research had successfully created surviving female embryos by artificial means since colonization began. Populations had since diminished and some had even dwindled out completely. So the implications of what Stone had just said only reinforced how important a seedbearer’s role was to what remained of humanity.
“I understand, Professor.”
“Good. I trust you will keep what I have just told you in confidence—the HC does not want to panic any of the townspeople. And for this reason your destination is currently a secret—as far as most of the flight station personnel know, this mission will be a routine transfer. If all goes well and your mission is successful, the population will be informed of the situation and a mass resettlement program initiated as soon as the solar flares have subsided.
“My assistant will scan further mission information and bios of each man into your personal wrist implant. I will meet with you again when you have made your choice.”
With that he turned his back and began maneuvering the icons on the vid table behind him.
Walking through to the outer office, Darla smiled at Valia, Stone’s assistant, and held up her wrist. Valia grinned and passed the wand over her bare skin. Embedded within the tendons was a receiver that copied all the material on the wand and would also transmit all the information into her personal data unit in her residence.
Meanwhile, she could project the data onto her left retina and study the proposed timetable for launch as she headed back to the research facility.
It would be far tighter than anything she could have imagined. Her current research would need to be stepped up and much of it off-loaded to assistants in her lab. Her focus would change, though there were aspects of her work she was reluctant to abandon. And while she continued her painstaking research into chromosomal bonding, she’d need to very quickly develop plans for establishing a colony and its survival in the short term while overseeing the research transfer.
Though excitement bubbled within her belly, the information scrolling across her eye presaged two weeks of meetings, health assessments and extreme fatigue. With a sigh, she wondered when she’d have time to adequately interview her prospective mates.
* * * * *
After cleansing and choosing a new outfit for her upcoming meeting, Darla settled in and replayed the scan of Marcus Olsen. The vidpro displayed a 360-degree hologram of one of his training sessions. All colonists, no matter what their qualifications, followed a rigorous training regime aimed at maintaining optimum health, fertility and hormone production.
Marcus moved like a dancer as he slashed his ancient fire-swords against the fighterbot. The tight trousers he wore concealed little and she felt her temperature rise a notch as her eyes caught the heavy bulge in front. Fighting obviously aroused him.
She programmed a close-up to study his face. Strong, chiseled features loomed toward her. He had mysterious, almost colorless eyes that seemed to hold more secrets than she wanted to know, but there was also a faint, little-boy-lost look about his mouth that reminded her of her brother.
“You like what you see?”
Darla leapt in fright and spun about to see the holo image come to life before her.
“How did you get in here?”
He dangled a crystal key before her. “You should remove this from the chamber after entering—otherwise you might receive unwanted visitors.”
Embarrassment flooded her and she felt a telling warmth creep up her neck. She had been in such a hurry to take a closer look at the mission specs she hadn’t been thinking straight.
Reaching over, she snatched the crystal from his grasp and lifted her chin. “A gentleman would have rung the chime regardless.”
Marcus lifted his lips in a knowing smile and took a step closer. “Lady, I’m no mere gentleman—I will soon be your mate. I think that excuses a few liberties.”
She backed up a pace. “That is by no means a given. Professor Stone has given me a choice.”
Again he stepped nearer, invading her space with a potent moonberry scent. “I can assure you, I mean to be the one who takes off with you.”
With those words he reached out, took her hand and slowly drew her close. His pale eyes captured hers and held them as rigidly as a tractor beam, then he lowered his lips to hers. All she could do was sigh.
His mouth tasted unlike any man she’d ever kissed. Sweet yet spicy, and so seductive she wondered whether he had rubbed Martian lily juice over them. Her lower lip tingled. For just an instant she wanted to resist, but when his tongue pushed against the seam of her lips she relented. She needed to know him. Quickly and thoroughly.
His tongue invaded her mouth and she sucked hard as he filled her. Her clit began to throb and she could feel the moisture pooling between her thighs.
When he lift
ed his head, she could smell the intoxicating fragrance of her own arousal in the air between them. It mingled with the moonberry, and something stronger—perhaps he’d used a pheromone enhancer? The little part of her brain that was still capable of conscious thought recognized this man’s determination.
He smiled, and in his eyes she saw a tiny lick of golden flame ignite. She wasn’t normally a submissive type, but in this instance she decided to see where he wanted to take her.
“How is my interview going so far?” he asked with mock seriousness.
Tilting her head, she pretended to study him. “It is much too soon to make an evaluation.” Her words were offered as a challenge—a challenge he readily appeared to accept, because he swept her up in his arms and walked across the small space before placing her on the settee that served as both bed and couch. When he came down beside her, it suddenly seemed small and cramped.
“Your quarters are almost as big as mine,” he commented as he took in the tiny bathing cubicle set into the wall beside the door. “Mine’s slightly larger, but then again, as a man, I must share.”
Darla didn’t have time to even ask with whom he shared because his mouth again descended, this time in a demanding and carnal kiss that left no room for evasion. His hot tongue and mouth seared her, and she couldn’t help but whimper when his hand went to her breast and curved around it as if it was made to fit into his palm. She felt her nipple pucker and a dart of heat shot immediately downward, stabbing her clit and making it swell.
She savored the sensation. There were so few men of mating age on the station, and her most recent lover, much older than her, had been barely adequate. At times she’d felt they were going through the motions simply because mating was required. She’d been almost relieved each time her pregnancy tests came back negative, and wasn’t in the least upset when he left the Titan station to take up a post with the polar research team on Ganymede.
Marcus’s mouth moved from her lips to her throat, his tongue forming a wet trail down between her breasts. Goose bumps rippled along in its wake. Through the tight fabric of her lounge suit, she felt his mouth surround her nipple, licking and tugging. Again she whimpered. It had been so long since she had known such a thorough arousal, and he hadn’t even touched her where she really needed to be touched.
