Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance (20 page)

“With all due respect,” I said, trying to cultivate all of my courage, “that money brought your daughter back to you. You, personally, owe that King everything.” I locked my eyes on hers, but could not read her expression. A long silence lapsed between us, until she heaved a sigh through her prettily flared nostrils.

“Very well,” she conceded. “I will repay the debt.”

I smiled, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted. “Thank you. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

She gave a wave of her hand. “Think nothing of it. Ultimately, it’s a drop in the Echelon’s considerable financial bucket.”

I leaned back in my chair and watched Tierney peer out the window into the endless black of space. Behind us, the planet of Qetesh receded. I did not want to sit where I could see it. I did not want to think of everything I had left behind.

When the shuttle docked in the belly of the
Atria
, my heart dropped like a stone into my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I regretted my decision, or if I was simply worried about what my parents would say to me when I saw them again. I expected a public admonishment or a stern talking to, at the very least. But it was the look of abject disappointment that I was not prepared to stomach.

And I did not have much time to think about what I might say to them, because when the shuttle doors opened, I could see the faces of my parents from where they stood several meters away, waiting on the cold floor of the hangar bay. They had been sitting on a few crates, waiting for me, no doubt. I had no idea how long they’d been there, but their brows were knit with worry.

If their expressions laid me low, then the fact that they ran up to me and drew me into their arms utterly broke my heart.

“My God, Lorelei,” my father said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “We were worried sick.”

They knocked the air out of me with the strength of their embrace. “I’m so sorry,” I said, because it was all I could think to say. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shhh,” my mother whispered, kissing my face. “It's all right.” And that is when I broke down. The shield I’d held so firmly in place throughout the course of my journey was utterly shattered by my mother’s instant forgiveness. She wasn’t angry with me for being stupid and reckless, she was grateful that I had returned, and grateful I was alive. I wasn’t in trouble, I was welcomed with open arms.

“Are you all right?” my mother asked at last, holding me at arm’s length.

“Are you hurt?” my father chimed in.

“What did they do to you?” Ah, so they’d heard about the Keldeeri.

“Are your friends all right?”

“How did you get away?” The questions were coming in rapid fire and I didn’t know how to answer any of them. I was still stunned by the emotional outpouring, and I could feel how wet my face was from the excess of tears.

After a moment, Rebecca Quimby walked over to me, and inserted herself gently into our little reunion bubble. “Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Vauss,” she said, lifting a hand to tuck an errant red curl behind her ear. “We need to take Lorelei to the medical wing. Just to be sure that she is as healthy as we think she is.”

“Yes, of course,” my father said, giving my arm a squeeze before letting me go entirely.

“Don’t worry, she'll be home with you again in an hour or so.”

“We’re just so glad to have you home, Lore,” my mother said, as they withdrew from me and turned to each other, holding onto one another as though they were keeping each other standing upright. They looked like they'd aged decades in the collection of weeks I’d been gone.

Weeks. Had it really only been weeks? No, longer. A month, maybe two? I blinked, dazed, as Rebecca Quimby pulled me away from my parents and led me out of the hangar bay.

She was saying something to me as we walked, but I was still trying to figure out exactly how long I’d been gone. I had completely lost track of time when I was on Qetesh with Calder. It couldn’t have been that long. Right? My nails were in dire need of manicuring, my hair… Oh, yes, my hair needed a trim. And the last time I had my period was—

I stopped dead in my tracks, and I could almost feel all the blood drain out of my face.

“Lorelei?” Rebecca said gently, turning to face me in the hall. It was a wide and busy hall connecting the hangar bay to the rest of the ship. People brushed past us on either side. It was a very inconvenient place to be rooted in place.

“Lorelei, what’s the matter?” Rebecca gripped me by the elbow and led me to the side of the hallway so people could rush past unimpeded by my statue-like presence.

“I just realized…” I looked up into Rebecca’s face, then, and she had this strangely knowing smile on her face.

“Yes?” she urged.

“I…I think I need to take a pregnancy test.”

She gave a slow nod of her head, a smile blooming on her face, and tucked my hand into the crook of her elbow. “They’ll take care of that for you in the medical wing.”

“But…but I thought…”

I let Rebecca start us moving again, my surroundings a blur around me. How could this have happened? Stupid, Lorelei! It was no mystery how babies were made. And Calder and I hadn’t exactly been responsible. But I suppose part of me just thought it wasn’t possible. I had been amongst interspecies couples and not a single one of those unions had born any fruit. I thought perhaps it wasn’t possible.

No, that wasn’t it. I wasn’t thinking anything at all. I when I was with him, I was completely outside of myself, a woman possessed by the strength of her own desire. When I was with him, I was only with him. In that moment. Us. Together. I had no head for the future or the consequences of our love.

“You thought…?” I realized I hadn’t said any of that aloud to Rebecca, and she was still just waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“I thought it was impossible.”

“I assure you,” she said, “it is not.”

I looked at her as we walked, and she opened a door for me, that lead out of the connection to the hangar and into
Atria
proper. Home. I was finally home.

It occurred to me only then that it was rather a strange thing, for an Ambassador to be taking the time to escort me to a doctor. I furrowed my brow, and withdrew my hand. “Why did they send you to bring me to a doctor?”

Rebecca sighed and moved past me to sit on one of the metal benches lining the walkway. We were on one of the lower levels of the
Atria
, but when we moved toward the far side of the walkway, there was a railing that allowed us to look down at the promenade and up to the glass domed ceiling with a view of the stars. The bench she chose was sequestered in a corner, without a view, and without much of a chance of anyone happening upon us.

I knew the
Atria
well, but even I had not spent much time in this section of the ship. It was sort of the staff quarters section: the people who worked in the kitchens, offices at the front desks, mechanics, and so on. It was quiet and plain, but nice to be secluded in such a confusing moment.

“Mireena suspected your condition,” Rebecca explained as I took a seat beside her. “I see that she guessed at it even before you did.”

“She knew?” I asked, shocked. “But how?”

“She has an eye for these sorts of things,” Rebecca said, crossing one leg over the other and lacing her fingers together at the cap of her knee. “It is her business, after all. One of the primary objectives of the organization she runs is to keep the populations of various species intact. Procreation is her business, and she knows it well.”

I was nodding, I think, but still reeling. And then Rebecca was saying my name. “Lorelei?” And again, “Lorelei?”

“Hmm?”

“She sent me so that you were with a friend when you were examined.”

“A friend?” I hardly knew the woman. I was surprised that she had remembered my name. But it occurred to me that, perhaps, she hadn’t, and Mireena Mafaren had fed it to her when she realized she needed something from me.

“Well,” Rebecca amended, “someone who would convince you to do what was in everyone’s best interest.”

“And that is…?”

Rebecca sighed, and turned to face me, taking my hands in hers. “I was the first woman to mate with a Qeteshi,” she said. I stared into her face, hoping that she would have some snippet of wisdom for me. “And I loved him well. I still do.”

“Ro Petathera,” I said, and she nodded.

“Yes. We are still together, he and I. He is my partner, my lover, my greatest friend.” She sighed. “But not, I am afraid, a father.” She looked away from me, then, toward the railing, and got a sort of far away look on her face. “I was pregnant, several times in fact. But…” She shook her head. “I miscarried a few times. And brought one stillbirth into the world. Ours was a beautiful baby, but…” She sighed. “Too beautiful for this world, I suppose.”

She swallowed hard, and I could tell that even now, after several decades, it was still difficult for her to discuss. “But I was the one who showed the Echelon that procreation between our species was possible. Even still, after all this time, there has yet to be a live birth from a union between the Qeteshi people and a woman of another species. We have tried with humans, Europax, and Pyrtans, and still. Nothing.”

She turned back to me then, and her eyes were tinged with a strange sort of desperation. “I would never presume to tell you want to do with your own body. I only want you to remember what a miracle this conception is. And what it could mean for the Qeteshi people if you birthed a whole new species.”

She rose slowly to her feet and held her hand out to me. I took it, and she led me gently forward so we could continue on our way. “There is one other woman like you,” she said, as we passed through a set of double metal doors. “And I wanted you to know about each other so that neither of you feel pressured to do anything that is against your conscience. I know how isolating this moment can be, but you are not alone. You have an entire intergalactic organization here to support you, no matter what you decide.”

She led me into the Medical Bay and sat me down in a waiting room aglow with overhead lights and the subaqueous glow from inside an exotic fish tank. It looked like any waiting room, with ugly chairs and muted touch screens for our entertainment. “I just want to say, for my part,” Rebeca said, after she sat me down again, “that you have shown your bravery in more ways than one throughout the course of this journey. And should you want to keep this child, I know you will rear a proud and stunning Qeteshi alongside your noble husband.”

My heart flipped over in my chest when she said the word “husband.” I realized that part of my haze had been how desperately I wish Calder were here with me now to hear this news.

“I will come by your parent’s house tomorrow morning,” Rebecca said, “to see how you are.”

“Thank you, Rebecca.”

“Truly, it is my pleasure. If I can be of any help to you, don’t hesitate to get in touch.” A physician dressed in white scrubs clutched a data pad to her chest, smiling at me from across the room. Rebecca nodded in her direction. “For now, I leave you in capable hands.”

I returned to the Spire with Waelden by my side, the somber air our constant companion. The rooms felt empty without the chatter of our guests, and I felt empty without the presence of our Queen. I did not even bother returning to the bed chamber she and I had shared. I would live and work out of my cottage in the town, and come to the Spire only for official business. The rustic nature of that lifestyle suited me better. It allowed me to think less and focus on the many tasks that needed to be done throughout the day, and not thinking was the only thing keeping the sorrow at bay.

Waelden and I sat together in one of the smaller sitting rooms and waited for Vanixa to join us. When she did, she stood in front of us with her arms crossed in front of her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Please,” I said to her, “will you not sit down?”

“I am fine where I am,” she insisted, and Waelden cast an apologetic look toward me as if to say, See what I have to deal with?

“I called you here today because Waelden has something he would like to say to you, and in order to move forward with his request, he will need a sanction from myself, as King and acting head of the Qulari priesthood.”

Vanixa blinked, shifting uncomfortably where she stood, and gesturing like she did not quite know what to do with her arms. She settled into a position with her hand on her hip and waited for us to go on.

“Waelden,” I urged, and he cleared his throat.

“Vanixa,” he said, rising to stand in front of her. I felt silly being the only one seated, so I rose as well, and the three of us stood strangely in front of our chairs. “Ours is not a happy marriage. I have tried my best to love and care for you, but I am met with disdain at every turn. And because our union yielded no offspring, I believe that it is time for us to call this whole experiment a failure, and to part ways as friends.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?” she demanded, her voice hovering just above a whisper.

“I think we should divorce,” he said, clearly and directly. “I think you will be much happier for it, as you have given me no indication that you care for me at all.”

She scoffed, and looked away. I could see color rising into her face, and I wondered if she was truly surprised by this revelation. “Whether or not things are going well, or…or whether or not we love each other, is not important.”

“On the contrary—” Waelden began, but she cut him off.

“Those whom the gods have joined in marriage, no man can put asunder.” She was blushing, and I could see her eyes were glassy with tears, but she spoke clear and true.

“But,” Waelden protested, “you hate me.”

“I most certainly do not hate you,” she insisted.

“You are terrible to me,” he went on, jaw hanging slightly agape. “You call me names, you tell me I am disgusting, you openly speak about how you think you would be better off without me. Nowhere in our years together have you led me to believe even for a moment that there was any affection between us.”