The Alien's Captive (12 page)

“Why?” she managed to say.

“It’s quite simple, really,” the matron said. “Senator Flavius misjudged your noble general. We all did. Usually, the trappings of the elite class are enough to sway anyone into supporting the system as it is. Your general, however, was not to be corrupted, not even after living rough on the sands of other planets without female succor. Those in power are happy to serve the lower class, so long they are reaching down to them, not out. They must remain elevated, and as a status symbol, human pets are the embodiment of status. From a personal standpoint, if everyone had a pet, then the competition for my services will be ferocious.” She paused. “I can’t have that, little one, so I was happy to assist in your removal.”

Phaedra tried to sit up, but her limbs felt like heavy weights. She was still aware of her surroundings, but too fatigued to move now, or even to call out.

“I’ll raise alarm when you’re gone. Later, when I’m interviewed, I’ll tearfully tell how you struck me and escaped, saying before you did that you’d rather die than belong to General Bron, who forced you through terror to release on command. You’re far too fine a specimen to kill; we’ve found a female of similar build from a recent shipment and have already put her outside; she’s unrecognizable now. Her death was much as we’ve seen with other escaped humans; first they asphyxiate and then the toxins they’ve inhaled burn them from the inside out. But that’s to our advantage, since the charred corpse will pass for you. You’ll join the Savusian breeding colony, where you’ll make lovely babies to populate the planet that your master helped conquer, then befriend.” Phaedra’s eyes followed the matron’s gaze to Dr. GilAman.

“See, little one,” the alien doctor said. “Matron Sharad is not the only one who can pretend to be loyal.”

Phaedra made one more attempt to cry out at the coldly delivered statement, but the one word she sought to utter, “Master,” would not come, and a single tear escaped each eye before they closed in her oblivion.

Chapter Thirteen

She slept for most of the journey, but was brought back to consciousness by a puff of something under her nose. GilAman had helped her up as he coldly informed her they’d reached her destination, and advised her not to fight.

If Trao X39 had become something of a paradise, Savusia was a living hell for Phaedra. The only benefit that she could surmise was a breathable atmosphere, although the air was acrid as GilAman ushered through double doors into a huge structure.

The first thing she noticed was the women. Earth women, much like her, only not as pretty and certainly not as well groomed. They wore shapeless gray shifts as they were led or prodded from one point to another. Some were obviously pregnant.

A breeding barn
, Phaedra thought once she was inside, for it was much like one, except it was made of some sort of metal and stone rather than wood. Cubicles lined the walls, each with two or three beds. They were arranged around what looked like a central arena, where cringing females from Earth and other planets were being stripped and assessed.

Gone were the gleaming surfaces, the glowing lights, and sophisticated instruments. It was clear to Phaedra that Savusia, while obviously adept at human abduction, lagged behind Trao X39 in both culture and technology. The females here were not handled like prized pets, but livestock. Phaedra found her eyes drawn to a full-figured human woman with ebony skin, wide hips and large, high breasts. She was fighting the Savusian who tried to examine her. Phaedra winced as the woman was hauled to what looked like a large X, bound to the four points, and lashed with what looked like a glowing wand. The woman’s screams filled the room as the end of the wand turned into a glowing lash that left pale welts on her bouncing buttocks. Her punisher only stopped when the woman went limp in her restraints. Phaedra looked away.

“It must seem shocking after what you’ve been through.” GilAman, who’d not spoken to Phaedra since secreting her off the planet in a ship used for interplanetary ambassadors, was addressing her in the same conversational tone he’d used when he’d examined her. They were in a small room which Phaedra only realized was some sort of elevator when it began to move.

“Bron trusted you,” she said flatly. “How could you do this to him?”

“Trust. It’s your master’s weakness.”

She shook her head. “If you hate him so much, why did you save him?”

A shadow of a smile crossed GilAman’s beautiful, angular face. “Because since he conquered my people and forced our alliance, I’ve realized the only way I would ever avenge Savusia was with the unwitting trust of one of its strongest leaders. And who is stronger than your general?”

“But he never wanted to conquer you. Or anyone!” Phaedra felt tears forming in her eyes as she continued. “An army only does what it is told!” She paused. “So what will you do now? Go back? Bask in his despair? That’s a cruel revenge…”

GilAman moved his hand over a panel in the wall and the elevator stopped. For a moment, he studied her before quietly continuing.

“You think
stealing you
is my revenge?” He shook his head. “Oh, foolish little creature. Your abduction was simply a distraction. My revenge is not against just your master, but against all of Trao X39. As all conversation turns to your attempted escape and untimely death, attention will be diverted. The bickering, the speculation, the sensationalism… No one will ever find the device until it’s too late.”

Phaedra felt a sudden queasiness at his words. “Device?”

GilAman stepped forward, his long fingers stroking her jawline. “Yes, sweet little human. Trao X39 will be destroyed. My expertise is not just in medicine. Long moons ago, I was head of munitions for my army. When I’ve been returning to Trao X39 with human cargo for the elite pet trade, I’ve also been returning with materials for a powerful explosive I’ve planted under the floor of my medical suite. It’s centrally located in the complex, and when it goes off after roughly five of your Earth days, it will assure the complete destruction of the leaders and at least three quarters of the population. We’ll arrive to clean up the rest.”

Phaedra shook her head. “No….”

“Now, now, little one… don’t cry. I’ve saved you, you see… What use will you be to a dead man on a dead planet? Your future is here.” He moved his slim, cool hand down to Phaedra’s waist. “As my mate.”

“No!” Phaedra said more forcefully this time, pulling away and moving to the other side of the small cubicle. “I’ll never, ever, ever be your mate, GilAman.”

“You have no choice,” he said coolly. “All these years of assuring the survival of my species using female humans to carry our young, and I have yet to assure my own prodigy. But the moment I saw you, saw your capacity, your
ripeness
… that’s when I knew it was time to implement my plan.”

He reached for her and with a cry, Phaedra attempted to evade him again, but this time GilAman caught her. She closed her eyes as his mouth moved to her ear.

“Other Earth females are impregnated in the lab, but I plan to couple with you personally. After all, I know what brings you Earth creatures pleasure. That thing you humans call a ‘cock’…?” He gripped her hand and forced it down until Phaedra was touching what felt like two thick ropes under his robe. “We have two,” he said. “They move and thrust on their own. I look forward to probing you in ways your limited general never dreamed of doing. You are ready for me, little human. I can tell. My seed will take root in you. Within three of your Earth days, you will be ready to conceive my child.”

He reached out, moved his hand across the scanner again and the elevator began to move. Phaedra did not fight now. She’d heard the threat coupled with the thread of excitement in GilAman’s voice. She was as helpless to him as she’d been to the general; resisting and fighting could get her raped where she stood.

Her mind raced. She’d survived so much, more than she’d thought she could. Phaedra considered pretending to want GilAman, but she sensed he was far too intelligent and calculating a being to be so easily misled.

When the elevator door opened, she found herself facing surroundings obviously reserved for the cream of the abductee crop. The women here were nearly as beautiful as the ones on Trao X39. Several were in the company of Savusian males who Phaedra surmised must be among the elite on this planet. By the looks of regard given to GilAman, it was apparent that he, too, was in this class—a flawless double agent who moved between two worlds.

“Is it done?” A Savusian with bluish skin approached them.

“It is.” GilAman bowed his head respectfully to the taller alien.

“Well done, brother.” The other alien looked at Phaedra, his dark eyes unnerving her. “You deserve the beautiful reward you’ve returned with. Enjoy her, and we will welcome your sons.”

“Thank you, FaMar.” GilAman bowed again and turned away. He had hold of Phaedra now and was walking her to a doorway. It was a cell, with a simple bed, a toilet, and a small table, all seeming to have been sculpted from the floor.
Clever
, she thought.
No way to disassemble anything here and use it as a weapon. Or to kill oneself.

“I have business to attend to,” he said. “And quarters to prepare. As a mated pair, we’ll be given better housing, an honor I’ve been promised. The mating chamber will be elaborate.” He took her hands and smiled. “I can’t wait for you to see.” Then he turned serious. “I want you to care for me,” he said. “I want to see the welcome in your eyes, the submission, that I saw you give to Augustus Bron. I will be patient, and will try to be gentle. But if you cannot give me what I want, you will pay a terrible price.”

The steel in his words terrified her, and Phaedra said the only thing she could to assure her survival. “I will try,” she promised, and then watched as the alien who would be her mate left the room. Then, and only then, did she allow herself the luxury of sinking to the floor in sobs of despair.

Chapter Fourteen

As Bron stared down at the small blistered and charred corpse on the table, it was obvious to him that she had suffered. It was obvious that nothing could have been done to save her.

It was also obvious that, despite what he was being told, the grotesquely human remains did not belong to his pet.

Beside him, Matron Sharad was sobbing softly. “It’s my fault. I stepped out. I shouldn’t have left her alone, but who would know given her performance in the arena, her show of submission and devotion, that she would do such a thing? She had us all fooled…”

Bron glanced over, his brow furrowed. Her comments were, word for word, the same as she’d delivered only hours earlier on a telecast. That had been Bron’s first clue that things weren’t as they seemed.

He’d been pulled from his meeting by a peacekeeper, a young Traoian male transitioning back into civilian life after serving as a soldier. The job consisted of handling minor disputes, investigating the rare crime and notifying family and friends in the event of accidents or deaths. He’d been shaking as he’d delivered the news that Bron’s pet was missing and a search was underway.

Bron had joined the search, but with an uneasy feeling. Within an hour, the InfoBoards were broadcasting Phaedra’s picture, and interviewing Matron Sharad, the last known Traoian with the human pet. The matron had described how she’d been mixing a soothing ointment for the pet’s body rub when she’d been struck from behind. As she’d fallen, the matron tearfully said, she’d seen Phaedra turn and run from the room. She said the girl had yelled that she’d rather die than live another day in captivity.

It seemed to Bron that the news story had developed too quickly. The matron’s lines weren’t the only ones that seemed rehearsed. When asked for a reaction, the senator had been positioned against a backdrop of a technology center he’d lauded among one of his successes. And although his pet didn’t usually appear with him during a workday, Dakara was conveniently at his feet, and off-leash.

“I was so sad to hear the news,” he’d said, his voice smooth and concerned. “As I look down at my sweet, loyal pet, I can only imagine the distress that General Bron must feel at knowing she ran away. We can only hope that she will be found safe and sound, and that he can convince her to stay by his side.”

It had all seemed too rehearsed. Even now, the news that the tissue chemistry on the dead girl was a perfect match for Phaedra seemed rushed.

“I’m so sorry,” an attendant said, handing him the report. Bron looked down at the bottom to see the signature of his friend, Dr. GilAman. Now his heart sank. If GilAman had signed it… He looked back at the charred corpse. The attendant was covering it now.

“Where’s Dr. GilAman?” he asked. It dawned on him that this didn’t make sense, either. The Savusian physician was among his closest friends. Where was he? Why the cold formality of a report when this news could have been delivered in person? Was it his imagination, or did the attendant and the matron exchange a glance?

“I’m not sure,” the attendant said.

“I believe there are new pets coming today,” the matron hurriedly said. “He’s probably dealing with them.” She stepped over to the general, her three heavy breasts heaving with emotion. “This is all so very horrible. Perhaps you should just take the day to deal with your loss, General Bron. Seek out your friend when you’ve had some time to collect yourself. I’m sure the public will understand if you withdraw for a bit.”

Bron looked down at the sheet. Beside his hip, out of sight, his hand clenched. But he adopted a sad, worn expression when he looked back at the matron.

“You’re right,” he said. “No amount of information will restore what I’ve lost.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Or what I stand to lose. I’m going home. I need time to figure out how to address this. No one should expect to hear from me for the short term. So if anyone asks…”

“Of course.” Matron Sharad laid a hand on his arm and it was all Bron could do not to jerk away.