Description

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Seven years later

When Violet first received the email telling her she had been selected as a genetic match for one of the aliens who circled Earth and kept it safe from the remaining vorathans that hadn’t been driven into deep space during the last seven years, she’d cried. It wasn’t that she had any great ambition or plans to do something great on Earth. She wasn’t involved with anyone that she would be expected to leave to accept her lot. She just didn’t want to leave Earth.

She was afraid of the change, and she was also terrified of the idea of being matched with one of the aliens. Of the seven varieties she had observed and learned about in the years of school offered sporadically after the invasion, the grimlocks scared her the most, and she was oddly certain that was what she would be paired with in the end, just because it was the worst possible outcome in her mind, except perhaps the serps. The idea of being with one of the serpentine aliens, who looked reptilian with scales and had no hair, was enough to chill her. It made grimlocks almost seem appealing.

After she’d gotten over her sadness, she’d rallied with her two best friends, Sarah and Brighton, who also shared a small POD with her. The living quarters were designed for two, but they’d managed to squeeze in three. The destruction wrought by the vorathans and even to a certain extent the Faction while fighting the vorathans, had decimated a lot of Earth, and while construction crews were hastily trying to rebuild, more temporary measures were put in place for sheltering. What was supposed to be temporary was going on three years for the three young women.

Now, two days later, she straightened her shoulders and marched into the local Faction Embassy. It was also where her required mating match survey had taken place weeks before. She should have undergone testing when she was eighteen, but she’d managed to delay until she was nineteen. After scolding her for tardiness, along with Sarah and Brighton, who’d also delayed, they’d sampled her DNA and poked into her life—all in preparation so an alien could potentially claim her for their proxy rights, as they called it.

She supposed it sounded better to them than breeding mare rights, which was essentially what it was. She would be expected to give a year of her life to the alien who selected her, and hopefully during that time, she would conceive. At least, that was the aliens’ hope. For her part, she wouldn’t mind being deemed infertile. That would release her from any obligation, but she had no reason to suspect she might be.

A proctor appeared, and he wore a long black jacket modeled similarly along the lines of the Faction’s military uniforms, at least for dress occasions. He was a human, but he carried himself with a cool and efficient air that suggested emotions didn’t really affect him.

“Your name please?”

“Violet Jones.” Her voice shook.

“Follow me.”

As they walked, she said, “The email said I’ve been matched with a few aliens. Does that mean I get to choose?” She clung to that hope, finding it would make the idea more tolerable.

He scoffed. “I’m afraid that isn’t your place.”

She glared at his back. “Why would it be my place to decide my fate?”

The proctor turned to give her a dismissive look. “Would you rather have been prey to the vorathans, or perhaps forced to service them until your death, and then followed by them eating you? Wouldn’t you rather give up a year of your life to avoid that?”

She nodded grudgingly. “Don’t get me wrong. I understand why Earth made the agreement they did, but if there’s more than one alien with whom I might be a suitable genetical match, I should be the one to choose among them.”

“You should realize the Faction has the balance of power here, Ms. Jones.” He sounded slightly sympathetic for a moment. “In the event a human woman is matched with more than one of the aliens, the alien with seniority gets to choose if he would like her. General Shaw Pelon has chosen to meet with you, which indicates he’ll likely accept you.”

“Is there anything I can do to sabotage the meeting?” She wasn’t certain if she was kidding, serious, or somewhere in between.

The proctor shot her an admonishing glance, but he didn’t say anything besides, “That would not work. The only reasons he’d reject you is if you are infertile or perhaps if you aren’t a virgin.”

She gnashed her teeth together at that reminder. Part of the negotiation entailed human women entering adulthood at eighteen until twenty-five had to be available for the draft, and they had to maintain sexual purity. Ostensibly, it was to avoid muddling any genetic modifications that might be required or delay a mating if a female was already pregnant. She suspected it was far more misogynistic than that—the barbaric aliens didn’t want to sleep with someone who had already been with a human. Perhaps they were afraid human women would contrast their performance and find aliens lacking.

She followed the proctor into another room and was surprised to find the lighting somewhat dim. She’d expected it to be similar to a conference room, but there was a large alien sitting at a small table on cushions on the floor. Other cushions were scattered around, and he had tea service ready. If he hadn’t been at least seven-and-a-half feet tall, with dark brown skin mottled with patches of gold that seemed to undulate as he moved, she might’ve been able to convince herself he was nothing more than a Japanese businessman.

His mesmerizing black eyes and long fall of white-blond hair certainly did away with that imagining even if she could have pretended otherwise with his skin being so unusual and beautiful. She couldn’t deny it certainly was. Even with only modest illumination in the room, it highlighted anywhere there was a hint of variation.

She’d never been so close to a grimlock before, and her stomach pinched with nerves. She’d been afraid of the ones she’d seen from a distance, and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t afraid of this one as well, at least until she sat down at the proctor’s urging and met the gaze of the large alien across from her.

His face was broad and roughhewn, and he had thick lips. With a heavy brow, his expression could’ve contorted into one of cruelty or aggression, but instead, he was giving her a gentle look with a slight smile that sent a shiver up her spine. She was certain that as he reached out for an Earthling introduction of shaking hands, he could break her in half with one of his meaty fists, but he handled her hand so delicately that she felt no fear.

Instead, she felt a heated sensation from where their skin touched, and it raced up her arm and seemed to suffuse throughout her. She was shocked by the reaction, recognizing it as attraction. There had been human males to whom she’d been attracted before, but survival had always been first, along with knowing she was expected to maintain her purity and avoid any emotional encumbrances until she was twenty-five. She’d never taken the time to explore anything before.

“I was looking forward to meeting you, Violet. Or would you prefer if I call you Ms. Jones?”

Her eyes widened at the question. “I suppose you should call me Violet. We’re going to be spending enough time together that it seems warranted, General.” She couldn’t read the insignia on his uniform, at least not well enough to determine his rank, but the proctor had already clued her in that he was a general, giving him the right of first choice or first refusal.

Suddenly, she experienced more dread than anticipation at the idea of him refusing her. She tried to tell herself it was because the next one could be much worse, but she didn’t quite believe that deep in her heart. She found the grimlock general unexpectedly intriguing, and she wanted to get to know him better.

“Do you understand the terms of your agreement, Ms. Jones?” asked the proctor.

“I understand the terms my government agreed to on my behalf,” she corrected with a hint of sass. “I’m required to give one year to the general here, and during that time, I will do my utmost to become a surrogate for him.”

The proctor nodded. “You understand that due to customs and agreements, artificial reproduction beyond slightly modifying your genes to enable you to carry a pregnancy of a grimlock baby is forbidden?”

“I understand.” She was expected to be at his sexual back and call and perhaps get pregnant. At the end of that year, she was either free if she couldn’t conceive, or she would have to stay if she was still pregnant. Once a child was born, then she could walk away.

Violet wasn’t certain how she could walk away from that. She knew many women who had done so, and time after time, she’d heard from older women that it was easy enough when you saw the baby, because it didn’t much resemble you at all. In a fully reversible procedure, the human women were only genetically modified enough to change their eggs to accept alien sperm and carry the pregnancy, and most of the DNA material remained that of the alien who would father it.

For her, she wasn’t certain that would be enough to allow her to walk away, so it added to her anxiety. She had been without a family for so long, save for Sarah and Brighton, that she didn’t know if she could just walk away from her child, no matter how little it was hers genetically. As she shot a glance at the general, she found herself wondering how easy it would be to walk away from him as well. It seemed less simple than it had even an hour ago.

“If you’re both agreed, you will present yourself in two days for the modifications, binding ceremony, and departure,” said the proctor.

She frowned at the general, not looking at the proctor. “You’re leaving already?” She’d imagined he might be on one of the Armada ships in orbit around Earth to keep it protected.

“I’m afraid so,” he said gently, obviously not wanting to upset her. “My crew has been on this rotation for two years, and none of us have yet seen the home world claimed by the Faction after beating back the vorathans from that territory. I’m anxious to start my new life there, so we will be departing quickly after joining. I’m sorry if this distresses you.”

She could have snapped at him that the entire process distressed her, but he was taking pains to be so kind and gentle with her that she didn’t want to do anything that would make him think she was simply awful. She told herself it was because he seemed like a safer bet than any other alien she might be assigned, but again, she failed to believe it.

“Is it all right if my friends come with me for the process? I don’t know what’s entailed in a binding ceremony. Is it like a human marriage ceremony?”

“It’s more an exchange of contracts, though there is a formal binding ceremony where we tie hands before signing. It’s symbolic, and if you want your friends to come with you to say goodbye, they’re welcome to. I’ll be sure they have passes waiting for them, but it’s mostly a business transaction.” Shaw seemed regretful about that. “I’m afraid it’s not what you would call romantic, and it certainly isn’t something that requires familial participation. It’s not like a human wedding ceremony if I understand the concepts correctly.”

She swallowed a faint lump of disappointment, but she couldn’t really say why. Perhaps it was just being robbed of a human wedding ceremony, though that wasn’t necessarily being taken from her. After her year was over, there was no reason she couldn’t return to Earth and find a human man with whom to settle down, get married, and have more children with him. She just had to be able to maintain her resolve to walk away at the end of the year or the end of the pregnancy, whichever came first.

“In that case, I don’t suppose I’ll bring Sarah or Brighton after all.” She looked at the proctor then. “Are we done?”

He nodded. “For now, Ms. Jones. Please be on time. My assistant will give you a packet with your scheduled time for the modifications before the ceremony. Oh, and bring your things with you that you require for at least a year.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t entirely certain why she was thanking him, since he worked for the government that had put her in this position, but her mother had raised her to be polite, and it really wasn’t the fault of the two men with her any more than it was hers. Circumstances had all forced them into such an arrangement. She supposed if she wanted to be angry with anyone, it should be the vorathans.