Alien Interludes (12 page)

“Kalquor to Michaela; come in, Michaela.”

She jumped at Jessica’s teasing voice. “Sorry. Mental vacation.”

The empress, her best friend in al the universe, chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s caled Mommy Brain. I can’t tel you how absentminded I was getting ready for my kids.” Michaela smiled dutifuly, and Jessica’s gaze sharpened. “Is everything okay, Michaela?”

“Fine. Just excited, I guess. One more week and she’s here.” Michaela looked around the nursery. Most of the items had been purchased four weeks into her first pregnancy, the result of a wild, happy shopping spree that she’d gone on the instant she’d found out she was expecting. A week and a half later, she’d sat sobbing in the middle of the room amid the boxes of things the lost baby would never use or wear.

But I get to have this one, thanks to Jessica.

“I bet you’re looking forward to having your body back.”
Your perfect, baby-sustaining body.

“It was my honor to carry your child.” Jessica watched her like a hawk.

“Not the most popular choice you’ve ever made.” Michaela could give her a real grin on that. Both of them enjoyed bucking the overly paternal protectiveness of Kalquorian men. It had caused no end of scandal when Kalquor’s empress had announced she housed Michaela’s embryo in her body.

“They’l get over it. Besides, what’s one more Imperial disgrace to Kalquor?” Jessica sniggered in delight. The Imperial Clan always seemed to be at odds with the council, and no one loved a fight more than the empress, except perhaps her Dramok clanmate Clajak.

“I know you missed going to the meetings. I’m stil not sure why you didn’t continue your duties like you did with your children.”

“I wasn’t taking any chances with Serena.” Jessica put on her mule look, the one that said she was right and no one could tel her different. “You deserve to have this child and if I had lost her through being stubborn I never would have forgiven myself.”

Tears threatened for an instant, and Michaela blinked them back. Jessica waved wildly at her. “Don’t! I’m so hormonal, I’l cry with you.” Once she’d recovered enough to talk, Michaela said, “You’re the best. I’l never be able to repay this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’d do the same for me in an instant.” Jessica lumbered awkwardly to her feet. “Gotta go, girlfriend. Mom and the in-laws are coming for dinner and I haven’t notified the kitchen yet.”

Michaela stood too, bitter that she could do it so easily. “I’l pick you up for tomorrow’s doctor’s appointment.” They hugged as best Michaela’s baby would alow. Jessica released her quickly, knowing from past experience how sensitive Michaela usualy was about being embraced, not realizing how desperate her friend was for contact these days.

Unable to carry a baby. And these days, not worth being touched.

That was problem number two in Michaela’s life.

* * * *

She offered him a wan smile. Govi was Kalquor’s leading expert on Earther female psychology, putting in long hours at the psychiatric branch of the local hospital. Once upon a time he’d even succeeded in making her feel worthy of love.

Weariness masked his good looks as he dropped heavily onto one of the scarlet seating cushions scattered on the white fur-carpeted floor. His long black hair was mussed from his habit of raking his fingers through it, and the softly glowing iluminated wals gave it blue highlights. His 68 years, young yet for a Kalquorian, didn’t show on his movie-star handsomeness. His lips were almost too sensuous for a man, but his nose was straight and long, his jaw strong. Of al the Kalquorians Michaela had seen, only the impossibly perfect features of Emperor Bevau rivaled Govi’s good looks.

Michaela wished his blue-purple gaze would search her out, but instead his cat’s eyes closed as he leaned his face into his palm, his elbow propped on one bent knee.

Michaela dropped to her own cushion at the opposite end of the low dining table. She looked at the assorted dishes without a hint of appetite. “You might as wel eat. I haven’t heard from the other two as to when they’l be home.”

Govi nodded with a yawn and stretched. Despite her depression, Michaela couldn’t help but admire his lean muscled body that filed out his black formsuit so delightfuly. Her center heated as it always did, thinking of how he looked when he was naked and crouched over her, thrusting deeply into her core.

She should have lost count of the weeks since he’d last touched her. Since any of them had. Unfortunately, she knew exactly how long it had been.

Govi ladled a hearty stew made of ronka meat and local fresh vegetables into his bowl. His long-lashed eyes closed in appreciation at the first bite. “You made this.”

“Guilty as charged.” She found a smile at his approval.

“I can always tel your cooking from the kitchen. You put your heart into it.”

He stil didn’t look at her even as he praised the meal. Maybe he no longer could bear the sight of her. Michaela’s stomach was heavy, as if a rock lodged within it.

There might as well be a rock in me. There sure as hell isn’t a baby in there. Never will be.

Raxstad stepped into the room. Her dreadlocked Nobek mate looked as tired as Govi. Without a word, he crouched for an instant to kiss Michaela’s cheek and took his seat at the table.

“Long day, huh?” she prompted.

He nodded, his eyes distant. With his heavy brow and jaw, he was the epitome of masculine strength. He bulged in al the right places, especialy the shoulders, prompting Jessica to nickname him ‘Gorila’.

The man was fearsome to look at if you weren’t part of his trusted circle.

He wearily told Michaela, “Interrogations of the Nobek who attempted to kidnap the empress last winter are stil ongoing. Someone locked him up tight, though. He continues to resist al efforts to retrieve information.”

“That’s unheard of.” Michaela knew how intense Kalquorian methods of interrogation were. Global Security employed psychological tools, drugs, and in extreme situations like that of the growing rebelion, what many would consider torture. In most cases, these implements were impossible for prisoners to resist. The other men involved in Jessica’s abduction, none of whom had possessed any information of real use, had crumbled almost immediately. The Nobek was going on ten months.

Raxstad only nodded his head as he shoved food in his mouth. He absentmindedly offered Michaela a bite, as Kalquorian tradition of the clan feeding its Matara was ingrained. She shook her head, her appetite quite gone. Neither man seemed to notice she hadn’t eaten a thing.

Their Dramok Korkla was the last to arrive. By the time he got home, Govi had finished his meal and sat at the table, his head hanging down and eyes closed in exhaustion. Michaela expected the Imdiko to snore at any moment.

The clan’s leader shook his head as he looked at the silent group. “Govi, you’re excused from remaining while the rest of us eat. Go to bed,” he ordered. “You too, Raxstad, as soon as you’re finished.”

“Thank you, Dramok,” Govi sighed, climbing arduously to his feet. His tread thudded down the hal as he went to the sleeping room.

Korkla settled on his cushion next to Michaela, leaning over to kiss her gently. While not as drawn as the other two, he was obviously tired.

The youngest of the men, Korkla was nonetheless their leader and a very capable one at that. Even though he was weary, a suggestion of his usual smile ghosted his face, bringing softness to its angles. His features might have been too sharp for true attractiveness if not for the warmth that made him so appealing to Michaela.

“How are you, love?” he asked, spooning stew into a dish.

“Fine,” she lied, though her spirits lifted a little to be noticed. “How was your day?”

He blew a raspberry, an expression of disgust he’d learned from her. She laughed for the second time that day, a record for the last few weeks.

“That good, huh?” she said, accepting a spoonful of stew he fed her from his bowl.

“Clajak’s running crazy what with passing that new legislation to do with rebels kidnapping Earther Mataras.” Korkla was the Dramok Emperor’s personal assistant, responsible for keeping things running smoothly and on time for the busy monarch.

“And sticking his nose in tracking the insurgents.” Raxstad growled with weary frustration.

“He’s very hands on,” Korkla sighed. “Clajak takes the safety of the women seriously.”

“He should leave this in Emperor Bevau’s hands. Bevau’s the one with experience in these types of matters.”

“It is his specialty,” Korkla agreed. “Clajak takes personal responsibility for every attack, though.” Kalquorians opposed to the mixing of Earther and Kalquorian genes were abducting Earther females. While none had been kiled that Michaela knew of, they were held with the demands that al breeding efforts be stopped, even though it meant the extinction of Kalquor’s indigenous population. The attacks had been sporadic at first, but there were signs that the insurgents were coalescing under one unknown person to chalenge the repopulation effort.

Raxstad lumbered to his feet. “I’m grateful we have such a concerned Imperial Clan. It’s only that it makes my job harder when Clajak shows up at headquarters, wanting detailed reports on the spot.” Korkla nodded. “I’l see what I can do to distract him. You know how he gets. The man has the focus of a laser when he’s determined.” Raxstad paused long enough to kiss Michaela good night before he joined Govi in the depths of slumber.

At least he’d remembered her. Govi hadn’t.

“Jessica said the baby kicked Clajak awake last night,” she reported to Korkla.

He snorted. “Just what I need. A sleep-deprived emperor.”

“One more week until the birth.”

Korkla sighed. “That’s right. I keep forgetting to put in for time off. The timing couldn’t be worse, but we’l have to do the best we can.” He had retreated into his own little world as the other two had, leaving Michaela alone. She stared at Korkla, wiling him to see her again, as he had when they’d first met.

Please look at me. Please see I’m sad and tell me everything is okay. Tell me you still love me, and that you’re past the disappointment I’ve caused.

None of that happened. Korkla finished his meal and apologizing for his fatigue, he kissed Michaela good night. The Dramok left her to join the other two men in the sleeping room.

After a while of sitting at the table, staring at nothing in particular, Michaela rose and cleared the remains of the meal. Once that was done, she felt at a loss. If she crawled into bed with her mates, she’d no doubt disturb them with her tossing and turning. These last few months, she’d held off joining her sleeping clan until she was so tired she could no longer keep her eyes open.

The nursery was ready, as it had been for weeks. Al the unfolding and refolding of Serena’s wardrobe had done nothing to give Michaela the sense of motherhood. Yet she found herself in the room once more. She stood in the middle of the dyed pink fur carpeting, feeling only emptiness inside and out.

She stared into the ful-length mirror across the room, wondering for perhaps the hundredth time why she’d bought it. The time when Serena would preen before it, modeling a new dress or gown, was stil years away. The mirror was another of those happy purchases from the first pregnancy, when Michaela had envisioned the entire future of her child-to-be in al its glory.

For now it showed only Michaela. Her dark features, a testament to her Middle-Eastern ancestry and so similar to her mates’, were drawn with sadness. If her clan had bothered to look at her, realy look at her, they would have seen the dark eyes swimming with almost perpetual tears, how her once round cherubic face had grown gaunt because eating was drudgery to be borne only to keep hunger at bay.

They’d see how her mid-back length black curls had gone untrimmed for months. Her long, ankle-length dress was wrinkled.

“Who’d want to look at this anyway?” she growled, self-hatred suddenly burning bright. She tore off the dress, her bra, and underpants and stared at the body that had been her shame for most of her life.

When clothed, the only hint that Michaela might be different from her felow Earther Mataras was the width of her shoulders and the huskiness of her voice. Her breasts were round, pert mounds, the dusky nipples large and inviting. Her waist was thin, flaring out to hips that matched her shoulders in width. Childbearing hips, and wasn’t that just another cruel joke?

Naked, her true nature was al too apparent. Her penis and child-sized scrotum partialy hid her vulva. An intersex Earther with fuly-formed genitals of both sexes was so rare as to be virtualy impossible.

In al of recorded Earth history, Michaela was the first of such to be born, though there were stories of one other in the ancient past. Most intersex individuals possessed one sex in particular with partialy formed parts of the other. Under Earth’s old fanatical regime, the birth of such a rare person was deemed a sign of unholy influence and resulted in the baby being euthanized. A kind doctor, sympathetic to Michaela’s desperate parents’ pleas, had falsified her birth certificate. Michaela had lived her first eighteen years as a male until escaping Earth’s tyranny.

Her clan had rescued her from certain death. With Korkla, Govi, and Raxstad, Michaela had at last found acceptance of her unique body. The men had assured her of her beauty with compliments, adoration, and ardent lovemaking. With them, she finaly felt worthy of drawing breath.

They’d made her happy for several years, until this same body refused to support their child. Now they worked long hours until they were too exhausted to make love.

They had excuses of course. The attacks and abductions. The psychologicaly damaged Mataras. However, Michaela noted Jessica’s men found plenty of time to devote to her, and they were Kalquor’s ruling clan. The empress’ near abduction almost a year ago had made her men al the more devoted to her, forcing them to re-evaluate their priorities and putting her at the top of the list.