Alien Conquest Read online

  “Yes, Supreme Commander.”

  The older male waved an impatient hand. “We are alone, you can call me T’rarchar.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A brief smile split T’rarchar’s face. “Impudent pup.” The smile vanished. “We must find the guilty party. They must be punished, but more importantly, we must find out how they penetrated our technology.”

  “Sir.” He hesitated. “Has it occurred to you that it might have been an inside attack?”

  “Of course it has,” T’rarchar snapped. “But how can any Yehrin be so lacking in honor?”

  T’lan decided that was a rhetorical question and kept his mouth shut. After a few minutes, T’rarchar continued, his voice hard. “I want you to take charge of the investigation. Interview every witness and make sure no one was missed. Report back to me within the month. Do not fail me.”

  “Yes, Supreme Commander.”

  Before T’lan could even leave the room, the Supreme Commander was back at work, no trace of weariness remaining.

  Emily hurried into the house, guiltily clutching the pharmacy bag. She had braved the hour long trip to Asheville rather than complete her purchase in the local pharmacy where everyone who worked there knew her name. The sun had yet to fall behind the horizon, but she couldn’t help the shudder of relief as she walked safely into the house. Like everyone else she had adjusted to the white lights sweeping down from the sky. They didn’t come every evening and appeared intermittently throughout the nights when they did come—but they always came. She knew that old man Jeffers had been out after curfew and had disappeared.

  Rumors of other disappearances were widespread. No one knew what happened to the people that disappeared. Even though the Internet was once again available, it was heavily censored. Phone services were also available, but Emily agreed with the general consensus that phone calls were being monitored as well. Based on the limited information available, any attempts at resistance were brief, bloody, and unsuccessful.

  Other than the constant reminder of the lights, most of the other changes that had occurred seemed far away from Elmwood. The videos of warriors marching through the capitals of each country made her shiver. Precise rows of massive, horned soldiers filled the streets. Their dark uniforms left their enormous arms bare, revealing skin tones ranging from a pale pearl grey to a deep charcoal but they were all intimidating. Close-up shots revealed the long black claws topping each finger, so different from Sam’s small pointed nails she wondered how she could ever have been wary of his hands. Their feet were clawed as well, revealed by soft open-toed boots which left the sharp tips free to grab the ground. But none of the warriors had appeared in Elmwood. The sheriff announced that he would be meeting with a Yehrin representative at the county seat each month, but other than that her small town was ignored.

  Surprisingly, the Yehrin continued to announce technological improvements. The brief notices made no attempt to show a softer side of the invaders, but the improvements were real. A hover train from New York to Los Angeles was well under way. Once completed, it would carry two thousand people coast to coast in less than four hours. More practically, a small device that fitted on to existing engines increased gas mileage and reduced emissions to zero. Once it was available, every vehicle had to be retrofitted. If you were caught driving without it, your car would be impounded.

  Other forms of transportation were slowly being restored, although extensive security checks were required before any trip. Identity cards coded to their DNA were issued to all humans through their local doctor’s office. Emily had received hers, along with a stern warning never to go anywhere without it. She had no desire to go anywhere. She was content in her small town, back in the pink princess bedroom where she had grown up. She worked part-time for the small local newspaper covering local events and doing human interest stories. Mr. Wolfe, the publisher, deliberately focused the newspaper on the town and county, with an occasional item of interest at state level. He allowed one small box on the front page for national and world events. During the day, it was easy to ignore the alien presence.

  She would have been happy to keep her head buried in the local sand if it hadn’t been for one problem. Her period had not arrived. No matter how often she tried to tell herself that it was only stress, she was now two weeks late. And there were other symptoms; her breasts felt tender and swollen and her stomach was queasy each morning and breakfast was an effort. Today nausea struck her as soon as she opened her eyes and she barely made it to the bathroom in time. Finally convinced she needed to take the test, she had gathered her courage and driven to Asheville. Now she tucked the package behind her back, checking to see if anyone else was home.

  “Gran?”

  Only silence filled the small cottage and she took a deep breath, allowing the comfort of her home to surround her. The scent of lavender drifted up from the potpourri on the hall tables. Butter yellow walls glowed in the fading light. On one side of the entry, overstuffed furniture covered in cabbage roses filled the small room they had converted from dining room to living room when Gran had decided the stairs were too much for her. The living room led to the eat-in kitchen through a small butler’s pantry. Gran’s new bedroom and bath comprised the other half of the downstairs. Upstairs, two small bedrooms and a bath tucked neatly under the eaves.

  Taking a deep breath, Emily headed upstairs. Pink walls brightened the small bathroom but the cheerful color didn’t lift her spirits as much as usual. She read the instructions before awkwardly peeing on the test strip. The full minute hadn’t elapsed before the results appeared. Pregnant.

  Her mind whirled, too shocked to focus on any one thought. No matter how much she had suspected, the test made the suspicion a reality. She was still staring at the results when her grandmother called from downstairs.

  “Coming,” she responded automatically before closing her eyes in despair. How could she tell her grandmother? Then again, how could she not? Unless she left now, it would be obvious soon enough. She looked down at her body. Her breasts already seemed larger and when she pressed her hand to her stomach, she could swear she felt a small hard knot. Was that normal? If nothing else, her grandmother would know.

  She walked down the stairs blindly. By the time she reached the kitchen where Gran was letting Tribs off his leash, tears streamed down her face. Gran took one look at her and pushed her into a chair. Tribs chirped so she picked him up, burying her face in his fur. He had picked up the lavender scent that filled the house, so now his scent matched the color of his fur she thought rather hysterically. With the rush of anti-alien sentiment that had swept the town after the second announcement, they had actually considered dying him so he would be less noticeable but dark fur wouldn’t conceal the six small legs.

  Eventually, Gran just shrugged and took him for a walk. If anyone had the nerve to ask, she simply said that Emily had brought him to her from New York as a present. Other than a few dyed in the wool alien haters who didn’t bother to hide their animosity, the rest of the town simply accepted him. Children in particular seemed to gravitate towards the small pet.

  “Now, child. Tell me what’s wrong.” Gran placed the teapot and the hand-painted china cups on the table and poured the tea. Emily wiped her eyes and looked at the beloved face across the table. Dark eyes twinkled at her from behind red spectacles, meeting Emily’s grey eyes with an encouraging look. She had inherited her lack of inches and her curly hair from her grandmother but the similarities ended there. The older woman was petite all over, with thin delicate features and small bones. Her outsized personality belied her small size. Emily’s lush curves would have suited a pint-sized Marilyn Monroe, but she had never welcomed the attention they brought and counteracted with a retiring demeanor.

  Unable to put it off any longer, she blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

  “Hmm.” Gran calmly took another sip of tea.

  Emily had been braced for almost any reaction except nonchalance. “You don’t loo
k surprised.”

  “I’m not. I have been around for a while,” Gran said dryly. “I’m perfectly aware of the signs of pregnancy. Do you think I haven’t noticed that you’ve barely touched your breakfast for the past two weeks? And you’re filling out.”

  “Should I be? This early?” Relief filled her at being able to share her concern.

  “How far along are you?”

  “Only a month.”

  “A month?” For the first time Gran looked startled. “Every pregnancy is different but that does seem a little early. Are you sure about the conception date?”

  “Absolutely.” She looked away, unable to meet her grandmother’s eyes.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about but we’ll make an appointment for you to see Dr. Gaston. He can check and make sure everything is proceeding properly.”

  “No, no doctor.” She started to jump up, but Gran laid a soothing hand over hers.

  “Why not? Good prenatal care is important.” Her grandmother’s gaze sharpened. “Emily, do you not want to keep this baby?”

  The question hung in the air. Emily’s hand dropped to her stomach. She might never know exactly what had happened that night, but she truly believed that Sam had been her friend up until then. Now he was gone, and this child was the only part of him that was left. But more than that, she already felt an attachment to the baby. Her baby. A sudden fierce protectiveness swept over her. She nodded her head, but her grandmother misunderstood the gesture. Her face softened.

  “If there are reasons that you don’t feel you can keep the baby, it’s your decision. I will support whatever you decide.”

  “No, it’s not that. I do want the baby. It’s just…” She took a deep breath. “The baby is half Yehrin.”

  “Oh my.” For the briefest moment, her grandmother’s calm slipped, and a frightened look crossed her face. “Were you...were you raped?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” Annoyed at the uncertainty in her tone, she firmed her voice. “No, I wasn’t.”

  Her grandmother raised an eyebrow.

  “The father is Sam. I told you about him.” The other woman nodded. “I know he was my friend. It’s just that I don’t remember the night that it happened. At all. I never thought we had that kind of relationship.”

  “Why don’t you remember?”

  “We were drinking.” Spoken out loud, the admission sounded terrible and she hastened to go on. “But it was only a small amount. I don’t understand why it would have affected me the way it did.”

  Gran’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think he put something in your drink?”

  “I don’t think so.” Absently she realized she was wringing her hands. “He was always so sweet and we were such good friends, I can’t believe he would do that. I just wish I knew what really happened. But now I never will.”

  Gran sighed and looked away for a few seconds, her fingers tapping. “Sweetie, from what you’ve told me, he was a good boy. I think for the sake of the baby, you have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Assume that the baby was conceived in friendship, if not in love.”

  A certain measure of peace fell over Emily. Her grandmother’s advice made sense. She could choose to focus on the good times with Sam and share them with the baby when she was older. Assuming that the baby would be around for her to tell. Fear replaced the fleeting moment of calm.

  “But that’s why I can’t go to the doctor. What if he can tell that the baby is half Yehrin? What if he tells them? What if it’s forbidden and they want to take the baby?” Her words tripped over each other, her breath speeding up.

  “Now calm down. There’s no way Jim Gaston would tell anyone, especially a bunch of aliens, about your pregnancy. You know he’s as close-mouthed as a bear trap.”

  Emily almost relaxed enough to laugh. Dr. Gaston hid a kind heart behind a gruff demeanor and he certainly did not allow anyone to bully him. She could almost imagine him successfully standing up to a Yehrin warrior.

  “Even if he wouldn’t tell, you know the way they spy on us. What if they saw his records? You know he did the DNA samples for the ID cards.”

  “I can’t imagine that they are randomly searching a country doctor’s records,” Gran replied tartly. “But I suppose it won’t hurt to wait a little longer. Tomorrow we’ll drive over to Asheville and get you some prenatal vitamins and one of those pregnancy books.” She looked Emily up and down. “And a larger bra.”

  This time Emily did laugh and forced back a fresh round of tears. Slipping out of her chair, she circled the table until she could kneel next to her grandmother and rest her head on her lap. Gnarled fingers stroked her head the same way they had done since she was a little girl.

  “Everything will be alright, sweetie. I promise,” Gran whispered, and Emily sighed as her body relaxed.

  A week later, the hard-won feeling of relaxation had departed. Her pregnancy was advancing in giant leaps, much faster than outlined in her new book. The small knot in her stomach had turned into a definite lump. Fortunately, it still wasn’t visible to anyone else. Her morning queasiness had turned into a constant nausea that tormented her night and day and she was barely able to keep anything down. Gran was increasingly insistent about taking her to see Dr. Gaston. This morning she managed to choke down enough oatmeal to put the visit off for another day, but she knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

  Gran decided Emily was well enough that she could leave her to take Tribs for his morning walk. She left Emily sitting on the couch in her pajamas, unenthusiastically facing the thought of climbing the stairs and getting dressed. When the doorbell rang, Emily contemplated ignoring it, but it was probably Mrs. Stanley from next door. The last thing she needed was a lecture from Gran about being polite to the neighbors. Deciding her pink flowered pajama pants and matching shelf bra tank were adequate coverage for Mrs. Stanley, she opened the door.

  Three Yehrin warriors confronted her. Her appalled gaze traveled from the cruel black claws revealed by the open-toed boots to the giant horns sweeping back from their heads. Too overwhelmed to process all three of them, she could only focus on the one directly in front of her. Massive even by Yehrin standards, her head barely reached his chest—an enormous chest covered by the same dark uniform she had seen from a distance on television. Now she was close enough to detect the faint metallic sheen of the fabric and notice just how closely it accentuated every ripped muscle. His arms were bare except for a device on one vast wrist. A wide dark belt encircled his lean hips, strung with a variety of devices, one of which was undisputedly a wicked looking knife. Below that, the uniform clung equally as tightly to strong calves and heavily muscled thighs. The only exception to the clinging fabric was a triangle of what looked like leather which covered his groin and cupped the extremely large bulge between his legs. Quickly dragging her eyes away, she lifted them unwillingly to his face.

  Dark grey skin covered harsh, inhuman features—broad cheekbones, an angular jawline, and a blade like nose. Black hair cut military short did nothing to soften the impact of the heavy dark horns that curved away from his brow. This close she could see the green and gold striations that flared out from the snake like slit pupils and lightened the unrelieved darkness of his eyes—eyes that held not even a hint of mercy. He opened his mouth to speak, pointed white teeth gleaming. Her whole body started to shake. He spoke in a low rumbling voice but she barely heard him over the rushing in her ears.

  “I am Commander T’lan V’randrr K’rlonlys. We are here about the incident in New York.”

  They knew. They were here to take her baby. Black spots appeared in her vision and her legs gave way. Just before she lost consciousness, she felt a pair of warm, hard arms stop her fall.

  Chapter Three

  T’lan stared down at the small human female he had saved from falling. When she swayed and her legs gave way, he instinctively reached for her. Now soft skin over even softer curves filled his arms and he had the unexpected impulse to cradle her ag
ainst his chest. As he pulled her closer, her delicate fragrance drifted upward and sent a surge of arousal through his veins. Without his permission, his cock began to stiffen. That did not happen. Ever. As a warrior, all parts of his body were under his complete control. Why was she having this effect on him?

  He attempted to examine her dispassionately. Despite the luscious curves, her body was small and weak, with no natural weapons to defend herself. No claws tipped her many fingered hands, although he appreciated that she had painted them red in an attempt to make them appear more threatening. Her mouth was slightly parted, revealing only small blunt teeth instead of the sharp teeth that filled his own. Haphazard yellow curls covered her head, neither cut short for battle nor neatly arranged to display her station.

  And yet… He poked one of those curls and it clung to his finger, wrapping it in softness. What would it feel like to sink his fingers into those silky tendrils as he sank his cock into that small, defenseless mouth? Once again, his cock threatened to escape his control.

  “You frightened her.” T’chok’s voice was mildly accusing as he leaned closer to inspect T’lan’s human. His human? Without pausing to examine the thought, T’lan growled and stepped back.

  “Stay away from her.”

  His sub commander froze before lowering his gaze and carefully moving two paces away. “Commander?”

  Ignoring the question, T’lan scanned his surroundings. They were on a quiet residential street with no other humans visible. Nevertheless, he felt exposed, especially with his defenseless human unconscious in his arms. “We will enter the domicile.”

  Once inside, he chose the room to the right with a view toward the street. Even cluttered as it was with unnecessary objects, there was room to fight if necessary. He went to place the woman on the largest piece of furniture but at the last minute sat down with her still in his arms. Ignoring the quick look his men exchanged, he shook her gently. “Wake up, human.”