Amanda's Amorous Aliens (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

For the first time it really struck him how much they were asking Amanda to surrender.

“To’huto, please pull up the historical data covering Amanda’s life and career from the years 2018 to 2062.”

“Why?” the computer asked.

Sek shook his head and reminded himself that the woman he loved was the one who’d designed this program.

“Because I asked you for it, To’h.”

“I don’t see why you need it,” To’huto said defensively. “I already told you what happened.”

“True,” Sek said, trying very hard not to laugh at a computer program acting like he’d hurt its feelings. “I just want to double-check some of the details.”

“Why?” the computer asked again.

A thought occurred to him, and it seemed so outrageous that he just had to ask the question out loud. “Why are you lying, To’h? Amanda’s career wasn’t a bust, was it?”

“Of course it was,” the computer said in a very dismissive tone. “I told you it was. That should be enough for you.”

“Sorry, To’h. It’s not enough for me. Show me some proof.”

“Are you not happy with Amanda? Did she do something to upset you?” the computer asked, obviously changing tactics. The question was rather unexpected.

“Of course I’m happy with Amanda.” He took a deep breath, leaned against the wall, and stared at the view screen that he had a habit of turning toward when he spoke to the computer. Technically, To’huto was all over the ship, but it had such a lifelike personality that it just seemed natural to refer to a single point when speaking to it in the survey room. “To’h, what is this about? Why can’t I see the historical data?”

“Because you’ll ruin everything. Someone will take up Amanda’s research when she disappears. Her work won’t be for nothing.”

“But having it stolen by others never happened?”

“Technically, no,” the computer said, actually sounding sad. “It sort of never happened, but Amanda wanted you to believe that so you wouldn’t send her away.”

“To’h, please show me the historical data that I asked for.”

“Fine, but I know that it’s not what Amanda wants.”

The data scrolled up the screen, simple dates and achievements, excerpts from newspaper articles, photos and video clips from the numerous achievements Amanda made during her incredibly successful career.

“To’h, surely you understand why she can’t stay here. She was very literally the mother of modern human spaceflight. Without her it might take the humans decades, maybe centuries longer to achieve what she achieved.”

“Nonsense,” the computer said in a tone very much like Amanda’s when she was tired of arguing a point, “her research is there. Humans make contact with the Kobarian species six years after her first unsuccessful test flight. Someone will use all that to take the next step in spaceflight exploration.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“They will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do you not love her, Sek?” the computer asked, changing tactics again.

“Of course I love her,” Sek said irritably. “I love her enough to want to see her achieve everything she can achieve. I love her enough to know that holding her back from her destiny is selfish.”

“Your brothers will agree with you,” To’huto said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a warning. “Would you deny her the chance to be happy with the four of you? You seem to be forgetting that she created my program with the single purpose of meeting you sooner.”

Just the idea of losing her was enough to make him ache with grief.

“Except that,” Sek said, rubbing his chest where it hurt so damn much, “her decision was made from grief. She decided to give up everything to get her husbands back. Can you really tell me the woman you know—the person she is now—would give up everything she achieved just for a chance to have babies with me and my brothers?”

“Yes,” a soft voice said from behind him.

He turned quickly, startled to realize she’d come into the room when he’d been arguing with a damn computer. His brothers didn’t look very happy, but Riak raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain.

“For want of a better description, To’huto
lied
to us. Amanda does achieve her career goals. Nobody steals her work. She becomes a very important part of the human space travel program.” He held his arms open and could barely breathe when she stepped into his embrace. “Sweetheart, we can’t ask you to give that all up.”

He almost buckled at the knees when he felt the first shudder go through her. Even when she’d learned that her work had supposedly been stolen she hadn’t cried, but now he held her tight as grief rolled through her.

“I can’t lose you,” she said haltingly, her words watery with her tears.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Kar said, stepping up behind her and pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “we have no intention of letting you go anywhere…” Sek was shocked by his brother’s horrific selfishness—how could he even think of holding her back from her true destiny?—until Riak added the words, “without us.”

We have no intention of letting you go anywhere…without us.

It took a while for the words to sink in, but the relief that flowed through her was undeniable.

“Baby,” Riak said as all four men surrounded her, “we’ll find a way to make it work. Humans make contact with Kobarians in the year 2024. We’ll meet you soon after and we can pick up where we’ve left off. It’s only six years. Then we can be together and support you through the rest of the amazing achievements you’re going to make.”

“But I can’t ask you to give up your careers, your futures, for me.”

“Why not?” Kar asked in a very reasonable-sounding voice. “You were willing to do it for us.”

“But that was…” Her words trailed away. She was going to say it was different, but in many ways it really wasn’t. She had as much right to a career as they all did.

“Sweetheart,” Riak said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to her lips, “we have time travel. We have four of us. Surely we can find a way to continue our careers while we support you with yours.”

“But what about children? I thought you wanted to start a family.” Her hand hovered protectively over her belly. For the past three weeks she’d been imagining what it would be like to be pregnant with their child. It seemed almost cruel to take that from her now.

“We will make it work. It’s only six years,” Kar said. The way he said it made it sound like a sacred vow. The other three men nodded their agreement.

“I love you,” she whispered to all of them.

“We know.”

* * * *

“To’h, would it be possible to make me a bra like the one Sektannen recycled several months ago?” Amanda asked quietly. She was still trying to sort through everything that had happened in the past few hours. Plans had been made and discarded and refined and rehashed and argued and just about everything in between. Thankfully, between the five of them they’d come to what seemed like a workable enough strategy.

Amanda would return to her own time at the same place and moment that she left. That way her career wouldn’t suffer any interruption. Her men would join her as soon as Kobarians made official contact with the leaders on Earth.

“Why would you want such a torturous device?” To’huto asked in his typical smart-ass voice.

“Because I left my time wearing one. I sure as hell don’t want to return without a bra on.”

“Ah,” the computer said as if it somehow understood her concerns, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, To’h,” she said quietly.

“Are you okay, Amanda?” To’huto asked. She shook her head even as she tried to remind herself that To’huto was only a computer program. Granted, she was the author, so there was a good chance it would recognize her moods, but that still didn’t make it a sentient life-form.

“Perhaps,” To’huto said in a philosophical-sounding tone of voice, “your father said it best. Everything happens for a reason, kiddo.”

“I never really understood that,” she said, staring at the computer console as if it could somehow explain what her father had meant. “If everything happens for a reason, then how do I get any choices? Doesn’t that just mean I’m bouncing aimlessly through life, a victim of circumstances, that I have no control?”

“Perhaps,” To’huto said with what she would swear was a mischievous laugh, “your father hadn’t quite factored in your determination.”

“What?” Yes, she knew the computer was just a product of her design, but shouldn’t she at least understand why it was quoting her father? “To’huto, what the hell do you mean by that?”

“It means your torturous undergarment is ready, Amanda.”

She threw her hands in the air. Was she really getting annoyed at a computer? It was likely trying to choose soothing random sayings in response to her irritation. It had become clear over the past several months that she’d programmed To’huto with empathy files, so it was likely just linking her mood to the wrong verbal platitudes.

If she ever got around to building To’huto in the future she was leaving that part out!

“Ready?” Kar asked as he, Riak, Sek, and Tannen came into the room.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said. “Six years? No more—promise?”

“Absolutely,” Riak said, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. “We’ll get this survey mission wrapped up and meet at the official 2024 ceremony where humans and Kobarians pledge the friendship between their species.”

Sek reassured her with a soft kiss as he pulled her out of his brother’s arms and into his own.

“Six years is a long time. What if you change your minds?”

“Never,” Tannen said as he stepped closer to touch her face with the back of his knuckles and then pressed a kiss to her lips.

“We already consider you our wife, Amanda Hasbro. We will be there.”

Amanda nodded, quickly dragged on the clothes that she’d been wearing the day she arrived, and then headed for her tiny spacecraft. Even as she dragged herself into the cockpit she felt the heaviness of regret. It felt wrong to leave them.

“I could stay another month,” she said hopefully, despite the fact that they’d discussed over and over the necessity to get her back to her own time. All four men crossed their arms and shook their heads. It was kind of weird that, despite being unable to see their tattoos, she could easily tell each one apart. Considering that they were physically and genetically identical, except for the tattoos on their inner wrists, it really shouldn’t have been possible.

But they were right. She’d already stayed here several months. Another month might become a year. A year might become two. Two might become many. Eventually it wouldn’t be possible for her to return to her own time without having to explain a whole lot of physical aging. Not to mention the fact that they didn’t actually have any form of contraception on board. If she stayed any longer she might become pregnant and that might lead to a whole lot of medical testing and questions she really didn’t want to answer. Technically she was going back to Area 51. She didn’t even want to consider if the conspiracy theorists’ rumors had some truth to them.

“We love you,” Kar said with a happy smile. “We’ll see you soon.”

She nodded, desperately holding on to that thought.

She was ready for the blinding flash of light this time. She popped back into her own time exactly where and when she’d left it—struggling to land her shuddering craft. Fortunately, this time the runway was exactly where she expected it to be.

Amanda wrestled her little ship to the ground, landing hard, the sudden, almost sideways impact throwing her around and slamming her helmet hard against the side of the cockpit before she managed to roll to a stop. Stunned, she tried to focus her eyes and remember what she’d intended to do at this point.

Oh yes. Tear Hensworth a new one. Slimy, cheating, underhanded rat bastard.

“Where is he?” she asked into her two-way communication with the flight tower as she disengaged the locks and went to exit her tiny craft. Damn, her head hurt, but it was the way she was having difficulty moving her mouth that pissed her off. Shit, what a time to sound like a drunken prom date. First thing tomorrow she was designing a better helmet. She tried again to climb out of the cockpit but froze at the operator’s startled question.

“He who?” the man asked, probably stalling for time. They would have all heard the exchange between her and her copilot. At the very least she was going to take the tape to The President and get that asshole Hensworth fired.

“Don’t. Fuck. With me,” she growled into the lip mic, trying to remember how upset she would have been if she hadn’t just spent several glorious months in the arms of men she loved. “I want Hensworth arrested for attempted murder.”

“You can’t be serious,” a new voice said over the radio. “How did we get from failed test flight to attempted murder? Amanda, don’t you remember what happened? You were silent, ignoring every check-in. We thought you were out cold until you ejected Clyde. What was wrong? Why did you eject him? And why didn’t you eject yourself?”

“No, that’s not what happened. He ejected,” Amanda said, grinding her teeth together as she finally started to remember some of the bullshit she’d been dealing with working in a male-dominated field. Crap, if she didn’t already have a headache…“
I’m
the woman who saved millions of dollars’ worth of experimental spacecraft from crashing into the Nevada desert.”