Alien Rescue

by Marie Dry

  A few minutes later, Viglar turned to face them. “She is better but she needs food and vitamins and exercise,” Viglar said, still in Zyrgin.

  Zanr stroked his breeder’s back, trying to keep the tension from showing in his body or his voice. “You are mostly recovered from your ordeal, my breeder.” He didn’t know why she insisted that she wasn’t tortured. But he would find out more when Viglar had left. He didn’t like the doctor this close to his breeder. Females liked doctors for a reason he didn’t understand. Though it was reassuring to see Rose glare at Viglar when he injected her. “I will look after her.”

  His breeder waved her hands above her head. “Hey, aliens, tell me what’s happening. Speake de English, or I’m going to start bashing in ridged heads,” Rose shouted. She narrowed her eyes at Zanr. “Don’t even think about putting your hand over my mouth.” She was getting good at reading his intentions.

  Viglar glared at him. “You should teach your breeder respect for warriors.” He prepared another injection. “Zacar told me that you have to interrogate her. She is very small and delicate—she might die if you scare her too much. I do not hold with the torture of females,” Viglar said again.

  Zanr stretched himself and glared at Viglar. “I am a warrior with honor. I do not scare my breeder.” Never mind that he’d tried exactly that earlier. If she’d acted truly afraid, he would’ve stopped.

  “Leave me with my breeder. I would never torture her,” he told Viglar.

  “If you hurt her or scare her, I will return.” With that threat, the doctor turned around and left.

  Zanr turned to Rose. “Tell me about the secret lab. Do you know where it is? It is in the best interest of both our people for you to tell me.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m not allowed in there.”

  “If I showed you images, could you point out the scientists that worked there? The agents that were allowed in there?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know of any other secret labs, besides the one in the basement of the building where you were tortured?”

  “I told you I wasn’t tortured.”

  Chapter Six

  Hours later, Zanr stared down at Rose. Asleep, she looked so weak and small. He arranged her hair in a style that was striking even if he had to praise his own skills. He didn’t want to leave her, not even while she slept.

  He contacted Zacar. “I’m on my way to report.”

  She knew very little of the scientists. At least he didn’t manage to scare her during the interrogation. She’d given him the answers he needed without realizing. She claimed to be a trained agent, but the fact that she was so quick to tell him her status, showed her lack of training.

  Parnell either didn’t know how to train them or he wanted to surround himself with incompetents. Rose had no knowledge of interrogation techniques, what to look out for. No matter what planet you’d conquered, certain behaviors were universal. Government agents had certain skills she lacked.

  He ran to Zacar’s office, again careful to camouflage and get past Zacar’s dwelling before the small human could make him drink odd fluids from even odder little cups. Zacar did not accept any excuses for tardy arrivals.

  Zacar and Zurian both stood in the office, their faces grave. Zurian rarely spoke and it still surprised Zanr that the warrior had adopted a small human female. A very small and weak human female. Of all of them, in spite of the fact that Zurian had trained him, he’d thought Zurian would be the one to go back to the old ways and kill the weak, small human. But he’d seen Zurian play with it. As if he enjoyed doing it and not only to please his breeder.

  That day, when he’d seen Zurian throw the human child in the air and catch her, had seen and heard the small human scream and laugh, it had made him question how his own blood could abandon him. What made him less acceptable to his closest blood than a weak human child to Zurian? He’d proved that he could grow into a strong warrior. He’d heard in older times when small warriors were born weak, they were always abandoned, that breeders had fought tooth and nail to keep the small Zyrgins safe—citizen or warrior. Zanr’s last memory of his blood’s breeder was her saying they should leave the weak, ugly thing in the desert and make another one.

  When Zacar had formed his own team, and Zurian, a scarred warrior, and one of the few willing to train Zanr, had been chosen as his second, Zanr had hoped. At the time Zanr hadn’t gone through his third change yet. He’d taken a chance and indicated his willingness to join Zacar’s team, and shortly after his third change, Zacar had drafted him. Ever since that day, he’d looked forward—had enjoyed conquest and seeing new planets. But Zurian’s acceptance of a weak, small human sometimes made him wonder about his own closest blood. He shrugged off those thoughts and concentrated on reporting to his leader.

  “My breeder was taken to the lab once when they took her out of the hole. She remembers little of it,” Zanr said.

  The humans always said they had expressionless faces, but he could clearly see the concern and disappointment on both the warriors’ faces. Why were they so desperate to know about the scientists?

  “Parnell admitted under torture that he’d put her in the lab when he took her out of the hole,” Zacar told him.

  Zurian’s eyes narrowed. “Viglar should examine her again.”

  Cold dread settled in Zanr’s gut. He knew they’d found some biological weapons in the basement. Larz had told him about the nanos Parnell had injected into Margaret. He would turn this world upside down for a cure if his breeder had those little killing machines inside her.

  “Agreed,” Zacar said.

  “I will see to it,” Zanr said. He wanted to run to Rose and get her checked over, now.

  “What I am about to tell you is only known to me and the Parenadorz and four others. You will not speak of it to anyone else,” Zacar said.

  His heart beat faster, as if he was going into battle. His leader trusted him. Him, Zanr, the bloodless warrior. “Yes, my leader.”

  “We are dealing with a bigger problem here. Quantities of jinz izwe have been stolen.”

  Shock and horror gave him a one-two punch to the gut. How was this possible? Jinz Izwe was a metal only found on the Zyrgin home world. Their warships, their weapons, and the uniforms of their warriors were made from it. Even their dwellings on conquered planets were made from it. It was their culture; the might of their empire was built on it. They never allowed it to fall into enemy hands. Never.

  “We suspect the Aurelians, but are not sure yet.” The Aurelians were a cultured people that produced luxury items. Zanr had guarded their delegation once, during a tribute ceremony on the Zyrgin home world. They’d been rude and condescending to their guards and the servants they brought along. The only reason they were allowed to act like that was that the Parenadorz’s first breeder came from Aurelia. Now that he had a new breeder, everyone was curious about the fate of that planet. Zanr suspected the special privileges they were allowed were about to dry up.

  “The equipment not working and the translators malfunctioning was due to sabotage by the same people,” Zurian said.

  Zacar clenched his teeth together. Loyalty and honor was everything to Zyrgins. “We know it is a very small group of Zyrgins who betrayed the empire.” Even a small group of traitors were unacceptable.

  “Outside home world, the problem is bigger. We don’t know how many of the conquered planets are involved. According to our latest intel, it looks as if many planets have secretly banded together against us.” When Zyrgins conquered a planet, they stamped out any opposition, but invariably some brave soul started a resistance. Mostly, the Zyrgins stationed on the conquered planets enjoyed the skirmishes. A warrior was not meant to be without battles.

  Zurian continued, “The Parenadorz know who the minor players are, but they don’t know enough to name the leaders of the revolt. At this stage, we are pretending ignorance so that we can find the leaders of this insurrection. And th
e shadow players behind them.”

  Zanr rocked back on his heels. He still couldn’t accept that a Zyrgin would betray their empire.

  “We think the stowaway is here to make contact with or start a local resistance that will liaise with the other planets.” Zacar turned to attend to some data coming in from a probe.

  Zurian continued the brief, “The conspirators seem to want insurgents on all our planets. Several humans escaped with much of the equipment in the basement of Parnell’s building. From what we can gather, about a month before we blew up that building, they started moving equipment out. Those scientists would be the humans our stowaway would be interested in.”

  They’d taken the equipment in the basement lab, but now that he thought about it, there had been space for much more. “How did the probes miss the stolen equipment?” The humans shouldn’t be able to hide anything from their tracking equipment.

  Zacar looked ready to commit murder. “Several of them malfunctioned.”

  Zanr had thought all the technicians on home world, involved with the equipment failure, had been caught. His world was suddenly upside down. The Zyrgin empire was indestructible, its warriors loyal. That was a given.

  “Did you get any information from your breeder?” Zurian asked.

  “No.” Since he’d found Rose, Zanr had come to realize that he wasn’t nearly as modern a warrior as he’d thought. He didn’t like their interest in her. At all. “She was taken to the lab once when she came out of that hole. She was too weak at the time to notice any details or hear anything. She remembers a dream, and she doesn’t realize that she’d been in the lab.” What did they do to her when they had her in that place with its experimental weapons? “Also, she mentioned at least thirty people coming and going daily from that lab.”

  “No other information?”

  “No, it is obvious that she was never given any access to vital information.”

  “That is unfortunate.” Zacar paced, his fists clenching and unclenching. “The Zyrgin interrogated Parnell. He doesn’t know where the scientists went with the equipment they stole. But he admitted to leaving Rose in the basement whenever she came out of that disgraceful torture,” Zacar told him.

  He ground his teeth together, his need to torture and kill Parnell a physical ache. He needed to do it. To avenge Rose.

  Zurian snarled. “We sent out probes and even tried DNA scans, and can’t find the weapons or escaped scientists.”

  “We suspect the stowaway is helping them to remain hidden.” Zacar snorted. “No, we know he is helping to keep them hidden from our technology.”

  “Woumbers,” Zanr gritted out.

  “We believe the traitor and the scientists that escaped with the weapons won’t be found in the same place. On other planets, they break into small groups and spread out over the planet. They don’t give each other their locations.”

  “How long have they betrayed us, to become this organized?” Zanr asked his leader.

  “Almost a century. Initially we wiped them out easily. But they always started again.” Zacar commanded another file to open. “We intercepted this before it cut out.”

  Zacar gave another command. An image appeared. It was blurred—a Zyrgin, judging by his accent while discussing deliverance of a product. The conversation abruptly stopped, and a hand became briefly visible. The sound and image disappeared.

  They all smiled. “Not a warrior,” Zurian said with satisfaction.

  Zanr agreed. The hand that had adjusted the cloth was obviously male, but too small to belong to a warrior. It was a relief that the traitors seemed to be mere citizens. He didn’t count Larz who was forced to act like a citizen as punishment.

  “We also intercepted this.”

  No image this time. Only a Zyrgin voice. “The unlawful expansion of the Zyrgin empire has to stop. We will detonate a bomb every two weeks until the warriors occupying Earth and other planets go home.”

  The clip ended and they shared amused glances. As if any warrior would retreat.

  “They expect us to leave with our tails tucked between our legs,” Zanr scorned.

  “We do not have tails,” Zurian said.

  “Even during primitive times, Zyrgins didn’t have tails,” Zacar added.

  Zanr resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It is a human saying; it means running away like a coward.”

  “I see,” Zacar said. “You will run the search for the traitor and the missing scientists. Your knowledge of the humans makes you the best choice.”

  Zanr was stunned. This was a big responsibility. He saluted. “I will make you proud, my leader.”

  “Zurian will continue tracking the traitor from here. You will liaise with him. Any indication that these scientists have biological weapons, you report back immediately.”

  In the briefing after the crash, they’d been told that the humans had only primitive weapons.

  “Yes, my leader. The humans are capable of biological warfare?” he asked. It was a deeply disturbing idea.

  “This is from their Golden Age. From what we found on their fragmented databases, these weapons ended that Golden Age and almost ended the human race.”

  Zanr was stunned. “That is revolting.”

  “Indeed,” Zurian said. “From the records we obtained, Viglar cannot say with perfect certainty that we won’t be affected by the viruses the humans created. We also found mention of secret labs in other locations and indications that someone found their location.”

  Zanr didn’t particularly care if all the humans died. But he knew the danger was too big that the viruses might reach their breeders. Nothing would convince him that any virus made by a mere human could affect superior Zyrgin DNA.

  “Do you have any leads on the secret labs?” Zanr asked.

  “This is where your breeder comes in,” Zurian said with uncharacteristic care. Zanr stiffened, resisting his claws’ urge to extend.

  “She’s our best chance to find them. We’ve scanned everywhere, sent out probes, nothing. She may have heard or seen something without realising. Several of the scientists mentioned discussing their work when they thought her still unconscious,” Zacar said.

  Zanr sighed. “She was unconscious when she was in the basement lab.”

  Zurian and Zacar exchanged looks Zanr didn’t like. At all. “She might have memories she is not aware of, and she knows what they look like,” Zacar said.

  “It is time your breeder escaped so that she can bring us down,” Zurian said, his eyes narrowed in thought.

  Zanr scratched his ridge and saw Zacar looked as confused as he felt. No warrior worth his salt would ever allow their breeder to escape. Then Zacar laughed. “You are brilliant, Zurian.”

  Fury, shock, and the need to kill his leader shook Zanr’s body. Zanr clenched his fists and forced himself not to step forward and attack his leader. He was a loyal warrior with honor, but Zacar was from one of the strongest bloodlines ever produced in Zyrgin history. He’d kill Zanr and then Rose would be alone. “You would use my breeder like a warrior?” He’d thought interrogating Rose would be the end of it.

  Zurian said in a long-suffering voice, “My breeder frequently tells me that human females do not want to be cooped up like chickens. She has managed to open the door of our dwelling when I’ve locked it, and she even infiltrated the communications room.”

  “It is not a breeders place to choose where they go,” Zanr said.

  Zacar and Zurian barked out laughter. “Things are changing, Zanr. We have to change with it or get left behind,” Zacar said. “Zurian will brief you.”

  ***

  Rose opened her eyes and instantly knew where she was: in an alien prison, under a big pelt, coming from an animal that had the bad misfortune to cross a big alien’s path.

  The trembling started low in her stomach. Anger so overwhelming, it wanted to levitate her body, coursed through her. Rose screamed and screamed until the sound echoed around the silver room.

  She’d be
en so close. So close and that talking, Komodo-dragon wannabe came and messed it up. She closed her eyes, took a shuddering breath. She didn’t have it in her to go back into that hole.

  Breeder—that was what the alien called her, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. For her. She had to get away before that happened. He might be content to just hold her for now, but that wouldn’t last. She’d seen and felt his impressive erection before his oddly charming ways seduced her into forgetting he was her enemy.

  Rose struggled upright. She was much stronger than the other times she came out of the hole. She shuddered and shoved that thought out of her mind. She touched her hair and frowned. What was it with the alien and her hair? She got up. She was wobbly but strong enough to get up and get dressed and explore.

  Rose staggered to the bathroom and then stopped and frowned. Her head felt weird. Carefully she touched her hair and almost screamed. “Mirror,” she said, not expecting it to work with English, but the alien had made the wall a mirror with a grunt. It was worth a try. The wall turned smooth and shiny enough to reflect her image. “I’m going to kill that alien,” she muttered. He’d plaited her hair and then connected the plaits to form a weird upside-down basket on her head. It took her forever to unravel it. She ended up sitting on the bathroom floor, spending time she could look for an escape, undoing his elaborate braiding.

  It was a relief to use the facilities and to get clean. Did that alien think she was some kind of toy he could play with? She showered and went to the closet the alien had previously taken that horrendous dress from. And why she’d kept quiet she’d never know, but he’d been so proud of himself. She shrugged. No use getting on his bad side before she escaped. And she would escape. More horrific frilly dresses hung in the closet, and Rose couldn’t bring herself to put one on. Along with an alien uniform. It would be too big for her but maybe she could wear the shirt like a dress and roll up the arms. With a grin she took the uniform weirdly attached to the top of the closet space. It came loose easily. Rose quickly ditched the flannel pajamas she swore she saw her grandmother wear. The shirt might look like metal, but it was butter soft. It shrunk to fit her. “Cool.” She reached for the pants.