Nanny For The Alien General by Athena Storm
Xana
Dreams of crystal, dreams of ice. The cryopod technician assured me that when I went into stasis, my sleep would seem brief and blessedly dreamless. But that’s not the case at all. Some parts of my mind remain active, not enough for lucidity but enough to feel the cold and discomfort of being frozen.
My eyes snap open, and behold the glass viewing pane still frosted over on my cryopod. I’m blinking, but unable to move. My autonomic nervous system must have come back on line first.
Panicked, I realize I can’t breathe. Something must have gone wrong, I’m dying in here. Dying—
Then there’s a sharp crack, and the cryopod lid swings open. Instantly my muscles come back to life and I suck in a ragged, guttural gasp of air. Steam hisses from the aperture as the super cooled air inside the pod meets the regular atmosphere of the planet I’ve been sent to. What was its name? Teranus. I’m here to meet the man who I will be Companion to, a contract which may or may not turn into a marriage, but usually does. His name is on my lips when I exit the pod as regally as possible.
Smiling—it’s important to smile for first impressions, or so my tutors always said—I walk out of the pod and hold my arms out, palms facing up as I blink in the bright sunlight.
“I am for you, Zerberu.”
“Who the fuck is Zerberu?”
What?
Another masculine voice laughs.
“I don’t know, but I wish he was me. That is one tasty looking dish.”
My eyes adjust to the brightness. From what I’d heard Teranus is a jungle world, but all I see is a vast plain of sand dunes behind a shimmering energy field. There are two uniformed Alzhon nearby, one of them holding a datapad and the other leaning against the crypod and leering at me. Inside the pod, I wore a skintight suit which leaves little to the imagination and nothing else, not even underwear. This was so my clothing wouldn’t freeze to my skin during the hibernation process, but it leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed now. I cross my arms over my chest and shiver even though my body is rapidly heating up under the intense sun.
Make that suns. There are three in the sky that I can see, a dark blue large one and two smaller yellow ones. A trinary system, then, and definitely not Teranus.
“What’s going on? Where am I?”
The Alzhon with the datapad chuckles and shakes his head.
“Save it, Kronus. We’ve been warned about your hustler’s ways.”
“Yeah. You’re not dealing with idiots.”
I get the feeling he’s not trying to be ironic.
“Who’s Kronus?”
“Hey, Cleetus, she’s trying the old ‘I have amnesia’ routine.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen that one before.”
They enjoy a good laugh at my expense. Something is terribly, terribly wrong.
“Excuse me, Mr. Cleetus?”
“It’s Officer Cleetus.”
“Sorry, Officer Cleetus. There’s been a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here. I was supposed to be shipped to Teranus.”
“Teranus? No one goes to Teranus. You might want to work on a better cover story next time. For a scam artist, you’re not very clever.”
“Scam artist?”
“Again with the amnesia act. All right, I’ll play along.”
He clears his throat and reads from the datapad in dramatic fashion.
“Your name is Vera Kronus. Originally from Earth, your criminal record starts at the tender age of ten when you were arrested for petty theft. From there you graduated to extortion rackets, financial hacking, and… damn, this is a long list. I don’t have time to read all this shit. Just suffice it to say that you’re a career criminal and richly deserve to be here.”
“I don’t even know where here is, and I certainly don’t know anyone named Vera. My name is Xana Uurtu. I’m an asset for the New Beginnings Companion agency, and I’ve been contracted to Zerberu.”
They exchange glances and then burst into laughter.
“Man, she’s really good. I almost believe her.”
“Me too. Again, I really wish my name was Zerberu. She looks like a damn pin up come to life.”
“Definitely lots of peaks and valleys.”
My mouth drops open in shock. No one has ever spoken about me like that before, ever. I’ve had training on how to deal with rude and boorish conversation, but this is on another level. I get the feeling these men, these aliens, don’t care what happens to me one way or the other.
“I’m not Vera Kronus. What do I have to do to convince you?”
“Cleet, check the manifest just in case.”
“What? Why? You know she’s full of shit.”
“Yeah, but what the hell? Might as well cover our bases.”
He checks the datapad and nods.
“Vera Kronus, human female twenty five years old. Seems like we have the right person to me.”
“Kronus is a Greek name, and I’m clearly Swedish in ancestry.”
“All humans look the same to me.”
They enjoy another ripping good laugh at that. I have only known these men for a few minutes and already I know that I don’t like them.
“Is there someone I could speak to in authority? A supervisor, perhaps?”
“Oh, she wants to talk to the supervisor.”
“Well, let me just get him right on the comm. In the meantime, why don’t you step through this gateway while we get him on the line?”
He pushes a button and the shimmering red field develops a ten foot wide arched hole. There doesn’t seem to be anything on the other side. I stare out the opening and then look behind me, where there is some sort of structure. The entire building is covered in the field, which doesn’t have a dome to allow ingress of ships, but is so high it would be impossible to scale if there were hand holds to be found. Which there aren’t. I may have been sheltered during my training, but I’m not stupid.
“I would prefer to wait inside.”
The one called Cleetus sighs and glances over at his partner.
“She ain’t buying it.”
“Nope. Guess that stereotype about good-looking Earth women being dumb doesn’t always pan out.”
Cleetus turns to me and puts his hands on his hips.
“Look, Kronus or Uurtu or whoever you want to call yourself, here are the facts. You are going through that doorway to begin your new life as an inmate on Jurtik.”
Jurtik? A prison world? I’m in serious trouble.
“You can either walk through it with some dignity, or we can throw you through it.”
He leans forward and whispers in my ear.
“If I were you, I’d avoid letting that guy touch you and just walk out on your own. He gets handsy with female detainees. Sometimes they don’t actually make it onto the surface of Jurtik, if you get my drift.”
Oh, I get your drift microbrain. And I’m thoroughly disgusted.
“I’ll walk, thank you.”
Obviously these two are not going to listen to reason. While there might be someone in that structure who would or could listen to my plight, they might as well be on the surface of one of the suns for all that I can reach them. My best hope is to try and survive long enough to find a way of getting a message out.
“Smart girl. If I were you, I’d find some shelter before those suns get any higher in the sky. Moving around at night is the best tactic. The prickly succulents have some foul tasting but life sustaining water.”
“Wait a moment. What if I need to talk to my lawyer, or, or family?”
I don’t have any family, not that I have ever met, but he doesn’t have to know that.
Cleetus gets a sort of sad look on his face, and for a moment he even seems sympathetic.
“Sorry, Kronus. Once you’ve been sent to Jurtik, no lawyers or family or even Zuvok the Terror himself can help you. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. It’s always a shame to see a female sent out into the desert, but I can’t help you. No one can.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I straighten up and walk through the door with a purposeful strut. One of the things I trained in was how to enter or exit a room. There are more than sixty different methods, depending on your intentions. About twenty of them involve a seduction, because Companions have one main, if unspoken, purpose.
The one that I use was described as Queen exiting her throne room. I’ll not simper off like some crying child, but face my fate with dignity.
The field closes behind me, leaving me alone. Part of me wants to panic, but I’ve had years of training to control my impulses. I’ve never had survival training, but it stands to reason that I need shelter and water in the short term. Food and more practical clothing can come later, as long as I get what I need to survive the harsh glare of the suns.
This isn’t where I’m supposed to be, but I’m not going to give in and just die.
Not a chance.
