by Liz Paffel
He would choose the best for himself and offer up the rest to his men before the United States leaders hastened their own devious plan.
Once that happened, there’d be little left to pick from.
Hahn gave a hard snort. “This clothing does not make you look less intimidating. This clothing mission is a failure.”
When his advisor suggested that he try on human clothing, namely jeans, to make a better impression and help human women feel comfortable, Tryllin was willing to give it a try. He’d been informed this style of dress was considered casual, whatever that meant. Women found him terrifying, and he couldn’t have the female he chose running in fear. She didn’t need to love him or even like him. But he wouldn’t have her cowering in fear while he implanted his heir into her womb.
The tailors found a ready-made pair of jeans with leg sheaths that squeezed around his thighs and calves. They were called skinny and he was going to rip them off with his knife and burn them himself. He might as well have painted his rear and legs with dark blue pigment rather than wasting time stuffing his huge muscles into this constrictive fabric casing.
The flannel shirt was soft to the skin but much too tight across the shoulders and didn’t come close to buttoning down his massive chest. Besides, the checked pattern did not pair well with his hexagon-patterned solarderm and he’d been told that human women were all about matching patterns.
Tryllin groaned and ripped off the shirt. One arm tore off as he pulled it from his body, so for good measure, he tore the other sleeve away, too. Curious, he put the garment on again. Without the sleeves to pull so tightly, he could almost button it.
“I believe the humans refer to this style as, ‘redneck.’” Hahn laughed. “Somehow, this simpleton image fits you.”
“Mock me now, brother. We both know I can best you no matter what I wear.”
“I’m not sure this redneck style makes women eager to mate.”
“I am King. Any woman I choose will not deny mating to me.” He couldn’t wait to get back into the clothing of his homeland, to soft gauzy fabric and tender yet strong leathers. At least his normal style was made for his big body and impressive height.
Hahn raised one eyebrow, his lavender eyes glowing with mirth. “Are you positive of this?”
Shrugging out of the shirt, Tryllin wadded it up and threw it. It bounced off his brother’s face. “Unless you’d like to get a full-frontal view, I suggest you leave so I can peel off these jeans.”
Hahn shook his head and settled back in his chair. “I’m not missing another opportunity to mock you.”
“Seriously, brother.”
“Fine, I will turn my chair while you undress. I came here to discuss something anyway… something you will not like.”
Tryllin grunted, not caring if his brother turned around or not as he began to peel off the denim. Nakedness didn’t bother his people.
“Speak.”
“We intercepted another signal from the Nozing about one Earth hour ago.”
Tryllin angrily shoved at the denim. “Why was I not immediately notified?”
“Because you were busy with your fashion show.”
He spun and speared his brother with a look. “I should have been called to the command center the moment it happened.”
Hahn dipped his head submissively. “It’s been recorded. Calculations show that this transmission came from just outside earth’s atmosphere.”
“They are here.”
The brothers looked at each other. The pulse picked up in Tryllin’s neck.
“There is more. The transmission was targeted. They are communicating directly with a contact point on this terraform.”
His body tensed. The Nozing had been enemies of the Axxeon far longer than Tryllin’s birth one hundred human years ago, always at war over planetary space. They were biologically similar, two of the only species aside from humans who required fresh water and sunlight to survive. Where the Axxeon went to gather resources, the Nozing soon followed and it became a constant battle for dominance. Earth had proven to be neutral ground; the planet was too rich in resources to be destroyed. Even his inferior enemy knew to tread cautiously about disrupting any inch of this place.
The Nozing had created devious and dark genetic mutations in an effort to become biologically and physically superior to the Axxeon. But it had gone very, very wrong and the enemy was growing increasingly desperate. There was no telling what sort of bioweaponry they may be carrying with them.
It was a given their enemy would follow them to this planet. Recent intercepted transmission suggested they were on their way. And now, they were right outside the atmosphere.
Anticipation pumped through him. He’d begun preparing when the first Nozing transmissions had been captured two days ago. He was preparing his closest warriors with details of his plan, and he’d sent for the weapon.
“Can you link to the recipient?”
Shimmying the jeans down as far as he could, Tryllin pulled one leg free and practically had to rip the fabric off the other. He gathered up his leather pants and put them on, along with the navy blue, impenetrable metafabric shirt that conformed to his chest and biceps and bore the regal triple sun emblem on the left chest. The color conveyed he was royal—only he and Hahn wore this hue— yet it made the violet of his eyes dark and menacing. Combined with the neon blue of his hair and iridescent green of his hexagon solarderm on his chest and arms, it was no wonder human women were afraid of him.
He slid into his knee-high black command boots and strapped his weapons belt around his hips. That felt better. The humans could keep their casual attire. He was at home dressed as the warrior and commander he was.
“Comms is working on that now. We’ve locked in on the transmission and are using geo-location to ping the recipient. However, wave strength is diminished and we’re having trouble locking onto the location. It appears to be cloaked.”
“What did the transmission say?”
Hahn pulled a small rectangular pad from his pocket and tapped the screen. “I knew you’d ask.” He tapped and static played back, followed by guttural, curving words that, at first, were unrecognizable to Tryllin’s ear. Within a second, the implanted translation device at the base of his brain turned the words into something he could understand.
Begin.
“Did that simply say, ‘begin?’”
“Yes.”
He played it again, listening for any sound or utterance that might be hiding in the background. Nothing. Still, the word was ominous in its scarcity. They’d known their enemy would follow them here. It was only a matter of time. Luckily, they’d created underground compounds decades ago from early gathering missions and were prepared to protect Earth’s resources. Close to one, powerful sun and so full of life, Earth was something of an enigma, almost revered around the galaxy as the only planet to fully bloom such an array of life. His planet had been a close second, having two suns, and freshwater, and plants.
He felt a duty to protect this place, at least until a suitable number of females could be collected, and enough water to seed the hydration system in their new base station and home, Axxeon 9. Half of his men had been sent to inhabit the station hovering behind Earth’s moon, along with females from the first Summons. What better place to start reproduction than their new home?
Now, the Nozing were here, ready to unleash chaos. Combined with the human’s own leaders who were plotting selective human genocide, Earth was about to become a war zone.
“Look at this, brother.” Hahn tapped on the screen and pulled up footage of a raging fire consuming a building. People were crying and screaming, watching from a safe distance as the dwelling turned to ash. “Watch… right here.” He pointed to movement darting through the flames. With a swipe of his index finger and thumb, he stopped the image and enlarged it. “Do you see?”
“I do not believe it.”
The small, hunched animal in the still frame had bright red eyes and a beak-
like mouth, with a hard shell made of heat-impermeable, diamond shaped scales that locked together like a fortress. It’s short, fat legs and razor-like teeth were hidden, but Tryllin remembered seeing the creature once before. It could breathe and survive fire, toasting its meal before consuming it. So much deadly force contained in an animal not bigger than a common Earth housecat.
“It’s a degarzee.”
“Yes, it appears so.”
“This is the creature that destroyed half of Rozzik.”
The Nozing had reportedly captured several degarzee from a planet they’d found after a jump through a wormhole and brought the creatures back to use as weapons. Five Earth years ago, Tryllin’s rescue team received a distress call from their allies on planet Rozzik, which had been set to flames by the creatures. The Axxeon evacuated as many of their allies as they could before half the planet burned.
Hahn rose from his chair. “The only conclusion that makes sense is that the Nozing have been here alongside us, bringing their weapon of destruction with them.”
“How did they get past our detection systems?”
Hahn gripped his belt with one hand and shook his head. “Of that, I’m not sure. Why are they here now, brother? We’ve been waiting three Earth years for them to follow us.”
Tryllin tapped the screen on his wrist com. A small box illuminated into the air. “Quixx, has your team retrieved the weapon?”
A digital face of their Commander of Weapons appeared in the box. “Yes, my King.”
Hahn watched his brother thoughtfully as he closed the comm. Tryllin gave him a sparse glance. “You look as if you have something to say to me, brother.”
“You’re confident in the weapon’s ability to perform after it’s lain dormant for three earth years?”
“No.” Tryllin retrieved his black cloak and swung it around his shoulders, fastening it at the gold clasps on either side of his neck. “There is more that I have not told you. The host is also a scientist, a biochemist. I scanned her to retrieve her DNA and background before implanting her with the weapon. She is not only a host. She has the intelligence to do more for our cause.”
“Like?”
“Create the xerron-G tool we need to go through with our plan.”
An image of the human female played in his mind’s eye. Despite the span of time since he’d first seen her, he was always able to recall her features. Compared to females he’d seen since, she would be considered plain, with smooth, soft and pale skin free of any face paint. Her cheeks and nose lightly spattered with the dots humans called freckles. Her hair, curly and dark, eyes wide, brown and heavily lashed.
A blip of excitement went through him. Would she remember him?
Soon, she’d be at his feet. At his mercy. Would she remember he was the one who’d peered inside her dwelling and locked their consciousnesses together? He’d absorbed her emotions and used his paraempath touch to calm her into a sleep. Then he’d scanned her for biological or genetic defects. There had been none. She was intelligent, healthy. Young. The perfect host. Considering he wanted to offload the weapon immediately, it had been pure luck that he’d found a compatible host so quickly.
He’d been tracking her all this time since.
This strange female who, unlike others of her gender, did not attend social events with groups of other females, or accompany males to a meal, or have them over for a Netflix and chill. She left her dwelling and went to her work at the hospital research lab, then returned to her dwelling at the end of the day. Each day, this repeated until the weekend when humans generally replaced work with outside activities. She rarely appeared from her dwelling.
Perhaps there was a defect he didn’t detect.
He’d find out soon. Not that it mattered now. She had two uses, and neither of them required her to be perfect. The first was a matter of putting her scientific knowledge to use. The second required the ultimate sacrifice.
As soon as she was done with the first, she’d do the other.
Tryllin smiled. Soon, the Nozing would pay.
“I want you to assemble a scouting mission, Hahn. Warriors on the ground scouting for any sign of the Nozing. Follow the fires. You’re likely to find sign of them there.”
“Of course, brother. We are always prepared.”
Tryllin marched from the comfort of his quarters into the stark gray interior of the underwater compound. They’d constructed an invisible biodome beneath a remote lake in the deep Wisconsin forest, with a sheer cliff of sandstone hiding the entrance. The inside was expansive, not unlike the human’s Pentagon, and housed the command and communications center, medical bay, aircraft hangers, weapons room and tech center.
Heading to the communications center, he waved his brother off to do as he asked. The wheels were in motion.
And nothing was going to stop his plan.
Chapter Four
They were stuffing her into an aircraft.
It hovered on its own accord above the ground, a narrow staircase leading into a gaping mouth. Horseshoe shaped and glossy black, the craft looked too unfamiliar and small. No way was she getting in there.
Her mind refused to cooperate. Think, Alora, think! No matter how hard she tried to focus, she couldn’t form a coherent thought. Something inside her sparked. Do not get on the craft!
“No,” Alora shouted, trying to twist away. “I’m not going.”
The warrior holding her tightened his grip, causing a burn of pain. She yelped and tried to break his hold, but he was immovable.
“Humans are prone to panic,” he said blandly, as if he were reading from a manual. “But it shall pass, and you will become reasonable.”
“No, no.” Her voice sounded pathetic and far away. Another alien came to stand before her, a strip of black held between both hands. The Axxeon holding her gripped her firmly, allowing for no wiggle room as the black fabric was placed over her eyes and tied around her head.
“I have heard that if you blind them, they are more likely to cooperate.”
Alora cried out and reached for the blindfold, but hands stopped her.
A whoosh came from her left, followed by the soft whir of an engine, and she was being pushed up the stairs. The sudden feeling of being closed in preceded a firm hand on her shoulder forcing her to sit on something hard and cold.
Another whoosh and her body lurched forward. Her hands went out to the seat to brace herself, but it was futile with her bound wrists. A twist of anger and grief lodged in her chest. Her mind swirled with thoughts that she couldn’t fully recognize. Everything was a fog, yet the sadness inside made a poignant break through. Enough that she felt it deeply, tears hitting her eyes.
The craft morphed into a smooth, gliding motion. Despite the easy motion, her stomach swirled as if she was on a carnival ride. Her head spun, vertigo making it hard to know if she was up or down. Sweat beaded along her hairline. Swallowing only made the nausea worse.
“Are we almost there?” She asked into the nothingness. “I’m not feeling well.”
“You will be fine, human.” The rote, bored voice disturbed her with its indifference.
“Do you have water?”
“Water is a delicacy. It will not be wasted on a human.”
A quiet voice spouted something in a sharp tone, the words not in English. The warriors spat back and forth in the foreign tongue for a moment before quieting. She pulled breaths in through her nose, willing herself not to lose the contents of her stomach. Why was she being brought to the King?
Cramps tightened below her ribcage, and she covered her mouth with a trembling hand.
“I might throw up. Do you have something I can use?”
A sigh followed the sound of someone moving around. Something hard and cold was thrust into her hands. A… cup? There was a sudden flurry of the Axxeon’s deep voices speaking in the unfamiliar language. The flow of the words was beautiful, not unlike French, though the tone indicated they weren’t happy with each other.
; “You know what the King said.” The words changed to English.
“Humans are repulsive to me.” The voice belonged to the warrior who’d given her the cup.
There was a grunt and an exasperated sigh and the sound of them shifting in their chairs. He could have professed that in his native tongue, but he’d made sure she understood. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She needed the blindfold off so she could watch and anticipate his next moves. What if he hurt her?
“You won’t feel that way when your child is born from a human woman’s womb.”
Alora looked around inside the blindfold, her brow knitting at the jab in the warrior’s voice. They’d better not taunt each other so much that they started an all-out fight.
“Never,” the other warrior responded vehemently. “I will let my bloodline die first.”
“You must be gentle with her. You know who she is.”
“She ran from our King. Weapon or not, that is a punishable crime.”
Weapon?
Her stomach churned and lurched. Thrusting the cup beneath her mouth, she spit a little and dry-heaved. Lying down sounded like heaven, but she didn’t dare make herself more vulnerable. The craft gave a gentle pull and the pressure inside caused her ears to thrum. Then they were on the ground, and the world finally stopped spinning.
“Are you well enough to rise?” The gentle voice came from the other warrior.
“I think so.”
She was unstrapped and her arm softly taken for assistance rising. She stood, her weak legs forcing her right back into the chair. Pressing a hand to her mouth again, she willed herself not to vomit.
“Shall I get the healer?”
“Enough of this,” the angrier warrior’s voice rang out. Suddenly, she was lifted off her feet and thrown over his shoulder. Alora’s mouth dropped open but she held back a protest as he carried her off the craft. A blast of warmth hit her face along with a second of bright light before it was gone.
