Penetrated by the Alien Page 2

  The customer was there with a shiner on his eye and his arm in a sling. She scoffed. All she did was give him a few well-placed kicks to his abdomen. She didn’t even touch his face and did nothing to his arms.

  “Lying sack,” she muttered.

  Fortunately, this was just an arraignment hearing. When her time came to face the judge, and he asked her plea, she said glancing at the customer.

  “Not guilty, your honor.”

  Bail was set, and she was led away. Within an hour, though, the marshals had her sign some paperwork and took her out of the jail to meet her father.

  “Sorry, dad,” she said. “But I didn’t hurt him like that, really.”

  He hugged her tight. “I know that, daughter. I didn’t spend all that money on martial arts classes so you wouldn’t know how to fight. The truth will come out eventually. It always does.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sotya

  The next morning, Marcon didn’t show his head for breakfast. Ephren muttered as he checked in the shipment of nec nut ale. He managed to secure one hundred cases over the communications net when he was unable to sleep last night. Normally, this purchase and anticipated profit would warm his trader’s heart. But Marcon’s recent announcement of defection only lit annoyance and confusion there.

  Ephren sat on one of the nec nut ale cartons with their loading dock hatch wide open, checking their physical inventory against their manifest. In truth, Ephren did this task only yesterday in preparation for leaving planet side, but repetitive tasks like this soothed his usually active and now distressed mind.

  He was so engrossed in his work that he started when someone spoke to him.

  “Excuse me?” said a soft voice.

  Ephren looked up from his clipboard to see a Soenu female, a different one from the previous night standing on the dock. Like the woman last night, her hair was white but her eyes were a bright purple. She was dressed in a simple shift that nonetheless highlighted her ample feminine form in enticing ways.

  “Can I help you?” said Ephren.

  “Have you made negotiations for him?” she said.

  This was the second time he heard that word, and he wondered what to make of it. He wasn’t dense, but it seemed strange to talk about Marcon like he was merchandise.

  “I’m not sure that is my place, ma’am,” he said.

  “Nonsense.” She gave him a wide smile. “I checked. This ship is registered in your name, which makes you its ships master. You have a male onboard, so the obvious conclusion can only be drawn.”

  She strolled up the ramp without permission, which normally would have alarmed Ephren. But she was so enticing as she swung her hips seductively that Ephren was entranced.

  “Tell me,” she said in a husky voice when she got within arm’s length, “is he in heat yet?”

  Ephren swallowed hard. The woman was incredibly alluring. Something about her made him want to touch and caress her. He became aware then of her feminine scent, which sent a primal message to his smaller brain.

  Unbidden, Ephren’s shaft swelled in his slacks. He found it difficult to do anything but stare at the female.

  “Would it upset you to find out I was Marcon’s prytl?”

  She smiled. “That’s hardly practical, isn’t it? But I see you met that bitch Tatya. Don’t mind her. She’s a traditionalist, but that only narrows her choices, doesn’t it? Especially so far from home. But don’t worry. I have my own male that can serve as prytl. In fact, I prefer it. Adon, come here.”

  A Soenu male with an unhappy look on his face walked into view and up the ramp.

  “This is Adon. Unfortunately for him, his prytl proved unsatisfactory.”

  “You didn’t have to sell him,” snarled Adon. “Or you could have sold us together.”

  “Sell?” thought Ephren. “What the fuck?”

  “Now, let’s not air family laundry in front of the help, Adon.”

  “Help?” thought Ephren. He shook his head. Maybe the implanted translator behind his ear needed replacement.

  “Besides, Adon, you are very satisfactory. Now mind your place and let me handle this.” She drew out the words ‘very satisfactory’ in a voice laced with so much sex that it made Ephren’s head spin. “In any case,” continued the woman, turning back to Ephren, “even if you were his prytl, I’d be up for a foursome. I’m more liberal than most females and find the idea of bedding an alien intriguing. Not all sex is about procreation, is it?”

  She moved uncomfortably closer and stared at the bulge in his pants.

  “And I see you find the thought intriguing.”

  “Um, what’s your name?” He could barely croak out the words.

  “Sotya, if you must know, though names are hardly important, aren’t they?” She raised her hand to his jaw and stroked it lightly. He shuddered.

  “Now, what would it take to move these negotiations along, eh?” she purred. She bent over to kiss his ear, which simultaneously placed her alabaster breasts very close to his mouth.

  Her scent filled his nose, and any thought other than touching her fled his mind.

  “Um, what are you, ah, offering?” As he spoke these words, she licked his ear, which sent tingles through him.

  “Well, of course, you can’t be included in the deal. Stupid Galactic Counsel laws and all. But I can offer ten thousand credits for your male. And, of course the first mating with us.” She whispered these words in his ear and he groaned.

  “So, do we have a deal?” she said eagerly.

  Suddenly the sound of metal banging on metal shocked Ephren out of his sexual haze.

  “No! We do not!” Marcon rushed out of the inner hatch toward them, but stopped halfway between the hatch and them. “Get off my ship!”

  Sotya stepped back and stared at Marcon appreciatively. “Well, aren’t you magnificent.”

  Marcon picked up a length of pipe and swung it.

  “Get the fuck off this ship before I throw you off the hard way. Ephren, go fire up the engines while I take care of this trash.”

  “Well!” huffed Sotya. “There is no need to be insulting.”

  “Who is insulting? Ten thousand credits? Get out that hatch you cheap bitch and don’t darken my ship again! Don’t make me say it again! Off!”

  Marcon advanced on the woman with fire in his eyes, swinging the pipe, and she backed away.

  “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!” she spit. “This was a proper negotiation. You have no business interfering.”

  “Go ahead, you classless whore. My family has better lawyers!”

  Sotya and Adon scuttled out of the loading hatch, and Marcon hit the controls to close the maw. He leaned against the bulkhead breathing hard.

  “Gods, that bitch!”

  Ephren stared wide-eyed at Marcon. “Are you going to explain to to me what in the hells is going on? Or are you going to make me play guessing games?”

  Marcon straightened as his breathing eased.

  “Are you going to do what I asked or am I going to have to whip you with that pipe?”

  #

  While Marcon was the navigator, they both took turns as pilots. In the face of Marcon’s fierce anger, Ephren thought it best to get the ship underway. He was in the middle of pre-flight check when Marcon settled himself into the copilot’s seat. His face was drawn with stress.

  “Are you going to help me, Marcon? Or are you going sit there like you are chewing nails?”

  Marcon looked at the display and clicked on readouts with his index finger.

  “Fuel tank one, filled.”

  “Check,” said Ephren.

  “Fuel tank two, half-filled.”

  “Oh fuck, Marcon, you didn’t get the ship fully re-fueled?”

  “We’ll make it to my planet on what we have,” he growled.

  Ephren shook his head. “Landing gear?”

  “Indicators green.”

  “Aren’t you fucking going to tell me what is going on?” said Ephren. �
�What was that with that Sotya woman?”

  “Where is that on the checklist?”

  “It’s on my checklist of the many ways you are an ass.”

  “Flattery,” said Marcon as he touched some more indicators, “will get you nowhere. Okay. I’m done. What about you?”

  “Yeah, I’m done,” said Ephren. “Take the ship out yourself.” Ephren bolted out of the pilot’s cabin after snagging a small rubber ball they kept between the two consoles. He slammed the hatch behind him.

  Of course, the problem with being on a small merchant ship is that it is small. There is nowhere to go, which is why Ephren went to the cargo hold and banged the ball against the bulkhead.

  Bang! The ball slammed into the metal wall, propelled by Ephren’s anger. He scooped it up on its return trajectory.

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Bang!

  But as Ephren prepared to slam the ball against the bulkhead again, the ship rattled. Then it shook and lurched. Ephren fell against the bulkhead.

  “What the fuck?” he said as he stood. Maybe they were passing an asteroid field? But those thoughts were put to rest as soon as he realized that the ship shook on at regular intervals. They were under fire.

  Heart hammering, he grabbed handholds set in the bulkheads as he propelled his way back to the pilot’s cabin and into the pilot’s chair, strapping himself in. With a shake of his head, he saw his partner–as usual—hadn’t fastened his seat belts.

  “What’s happening, Marcon?”

  “We are under attack from a Soenu vessel,” said Marcon grimly.

  “What!”

  “I think it is that last one who propositioned you.”

  “Propositioned!” sputtered Ephren as he looked at the readouts that showed where laser fire hit the ship.

  “Yeah, she tried to make a case for a legal negotiation before she left. She probably will try to present this as her legal right to enforce the negotiation.”

  “This is fucking weird, Marcon. Weird!” yelled Ephren. “You know that, right?”

  “Yep.”

  The ship rocked again.

  “What the hell is she throwing at us?”

  “Torpedoes.”

  “Torpedoes! Those are fucking illegal for passenger ships!”

  “Which is why she’s piloting a military vessel. Hold on. There’s a charted wormhole close by.”

  “She’ll figure it out.”

  “She already has. Why do you think she’s trying to disable us?”

  So far, the Soenu vessel failed to hit a critical system, but it was only a matter of time and volume of hits before they would be dead in space.

  Marcon worked against time, grim-faced, writing the equations to throw them into the wormhole and bring them out into somewhere into normal space. This was more than a two-minute operation for most navigators, and the race against time tested Marcon’s brilliance. Ephren kept quiet so not as to break his partner’s concentration, but he resolved that once they were out of this mess, he’d get some answers out him.

  “I think I got it,” said Marcon.

  “Think! Think!” Ephren recalled the horror stories of ships getting caught in unnormal spaces through incorrect calculations.

  “Now or never, partner. Choose!”

  The ship lurched again and the lights in the pilot’s cabin flickered.

  “Now!”

  Marcon touched the control that increased their speed to hasten their trajectory towards the wormhole and for a second, the assault on their ship stopped. But when they reached the edge of the entrance, just as Marcon engaged the hyperspace drive, another hard jolt rocked the ship. The torpedo and the lurch into the wormhole overcame the inertial dampeners and an unrestrained Marcon flew forward into the control panel. Ephren watched in horror as Marcon’s blood flew off the panel and they jetted wildly into the wormhole. Time seemed to stop as it did when entering hyperspace and Ephren couldn’t move to help his partner. There was nothing to do but wait out the ride and hope that the torpedo didn’t twist their trajectory to some unknown place. But Ephren knew the odds of that were very slim.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Falling Stars

  Shelley sat on the porch outside her father’s house, watching the nighttime stars. She wondered if there were other people there, and if so, whether they had the same problems as humans. Shelley wasn’t one to deny the idea of other people among the stars since, in her mind, she didn’t see how there wouldn’t be more than one sentient race. But that was just one more unanswerable question on top all the others in her life.

  As a condition of her release, he was responsible for her. She didn’t like having to bunk at dad’s, but seeing that he wouldn’t let the idea go, she relented and packed a small bag while her father waited in the car. Now at his farm in nearly the middle of nowhere, the quiet of the countryside settled around her. Since it was late August, the crickets and katydids sang in the fields.

  There was no denying Shelley’s life took a turn for the worse, just for doing her father a favor. Sure, it was her own anger that caused her to lash out at that asshole who insulted her about her weight. That was on her. But would she have been so upset if she was happy with her life? Would his stupid comments have bothered her if there were something she looked forward too?

  She took a sip of her iced tea, wondering about her life. Is this what she wanted? One day this farm would come to her. She didn’t have a boyfriend now, but eventually someone had to come along. Did she want to sit on the veranda of the farmhouse after working a long day? Did she want a husband and two-point-four children on top of a day job that barely paid the bills? There was nothing wrong with the way her father lived his life, but Shelley felt somehow she was destined for more. She just didn’t know what it was.

  She sighed and drank the last of her ice tea, ready to turn in for the night. Shelley was alone since her father was stuck working the bar again and she couldn’t fill in for him. This was another condition of her release, but secretly she didn’t mind it. At least there was a reason she didn’t have to go to the bar.

  As she rose from the rocking chair, a bright streak fell from the heavens and struck the ground, sending a shattering boom through the air. The couple of cows her father kept mooed in panic in the barn, the horse he boarded whinnied and Jackson, her father’s hound, barked furiously.

  But worse yet, the north pasture seemed to glow with the light of kindled fire.

  “Shit!” she said.

  She was about to call the firefighters when the glow snuffed out, which she found strange. She ran into the house trying to figure what to do, and on impulse, grabbed the large first aid kit her father kept, a couple bottles of water and a large flashlight, and threw them into her backpack by the back door. While she found her own actions curious, she had an urgent sense that someone needed her help. Running to the barn, she pulled Gloria, the horse her father boarded, out of her stall. Shelley clipped some reins to her halter and jumped on her back with a flying leap up from a wooden crate. She trotted, then galloped Gloria to the north pasture with Jackson running behind her, growling the entire way.

  #

  The nearly full moon lit her path as she sped towards the pasture. As she got closer, she spied a great long tear in the ground among the alfalfa, seeming to her like a large skid mark. She traveled the torn up earth to a huge piece of softly glowing metal. Heat radiated from the metal as she grew closer.

  The horse grew skittish under her and Shelley found it difficult to control the nervous beast with just the rope halter. As she tried to calm the horse, a man around the other end of the glowing metal seeming to spray something on the metal and making excited sounds.

  “Hey!” called Shelley. “Do you need help?”

  The man stopped, stock-still, and stared at her as she swung her flashlight toward him to get a better look. Though he was in obvious distress, Shelley was wowed at by his handsome features. He was tall, maybe six feet five and muscular. His blond
hair was a sharp contrast to his sun-browned skinned.

  He stared jabbering in a strange language.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.”

  He looked at her and shook his head. After holding up his hand as though to indicate ‘one minute’, he darted around the side of the ship. Jackson darted after the man.

  “Jackson, come back here!”

  The dog refused to listen.

  Gloria shifted under her uneasily and Shelley wondered what she should do. Should she go after Jackson? She decided to slide off Gloria’s back and tie her off at a fence to the right. When she turned, she saw the glowing metal resembled an airplane, though its wings were blunted and swept back toward the rear of the craft. Maybe it was an experimental craft designed for the military? Now her sense of alarm grew. What if the military didn’t like seeing one of their new designs crashed and disabled?

  “Great,” she muttered. “More trouble.”

  The man returned but, incredibly, Jackson followed him wagging his tail.

  “Wow,” she said as the man approached. “Jackson doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

  The man cocked his head and held up his hand again with the ‘one minute’ sign. Then slowly he approached her with his hand out. On his hand was a one inch round metal disk. When she backed away, he stopped. He put the disk to the back of his ear as if to show her it did no harm. Then he took it away, held it out to her and gazed at her with a pleading look.

  She looked him in the eyes and she got a sense that somehow he was familiar. Jackson barked as if to say, “What are you waiting for?” She bit her lip and then nodded her head. He approached and gently swept away her hair, then pressed the disc to her skin. A searing pain immediately shot through her head.

  “Ow!” she cried.

  “Ssh, ssh,” he said. He spoke, but she did not understand the words at first and then they became clear.

  “…different species take different times to adjust. Can you understand me now?”

  “What am I adjusting too?”

  “A temporary universal translator. We traders use them when contacting different species that don’t use the permanent implants. Does it hurt?”