Chapter 59
Alanna
The days that followed their return to the Jutiron Stor were intermittently solemn and quiet then busy and hectic.
Sometimes, Alanna was with the other girls.
Hanging out in someone’s room or in one of their common areas.
They were either quiet, thinking of Hattie, missing her with an ache that never seemed to ease, or they were laughing as they exchanged memories and stories about her.
And the laughter usually led to tears and guilt, because how could they laugh without her here?
Then, at other times, they’d be working. Helping the ratchi try to locate Tuvo and Hattie. A seemingly impossible task to accomplish. They were trying to find two people in the rainforest from the other side of the moon. A needle in a haystack would be easier.
But they also worked with the guys to try to figure out what happened.
This anti-alien group, PHAL, had apparently begun way back when Alanna had originally placed the call to her uncle to warn him they would be coming to Earth. Their numbers had exploded when the Stor actually appeared in the sky.
But they only really became militant when it got out that the aliens would be taking mates from amongst the humans.
All of that was discovered by their own research team, combing through internet forums so deep in the internet, Alanna wasn’t sure it was safe to tread there.
And she was right. Those sites were places that the dregs of society were granted the advantage of anonymity and the power of an echo chamber.
The guys were introduced to the worst of humanity in a trial by fire.
They read through message boards calling for death to the aliens.
Death to the women that fucked them. They found an entire appreciation board for the picture someone had of baby Viktor being dissected that they had seen at one of the protests.
It was disgusting. Vile. Alanna and the others were called pigs and cows – no better than animals because they were fucking animals.
There was a particularly dark board that had described how the members of the site wanted to rape them before killing them – or killing them while raping them.
The order didn’t matter, the point was the same.
And it made the guys absolutely feral.
They were talking about sending in the Coalition army – which was predominantly comprised of domini soldiers – onto Earth to search them out. To kill them now. As though the written words were as bad as the actual crime itself.
Through it all, those people really seemed to think of themselves as heroes. They talked about killing aliens to protect women. That human females were for humans only. That fucking and breeding with aliens was an abomination they needed to be saved from.
They were also the kind of message boards where the men on it were saying that women shouldn’t be allowed freedom of choice, because they’d pick aliens to fuck because they were stupid sluts, and they didn’t know how to find or treat a good man.
There were pictures of the attack against the hotel, and the comments under them were all laments that none of them had actually been killed.
They found memorials to the people that had been killed during the attacks on them.
As though they were fallen heroes who had died fighting the good fight.
Unedited, fully graphic pictures of corpses with their throats ripped out were presented as evidence that the aliens really were monsters and that Alanna and the other women were pigs for fucking them.
It was probably the worst glimpse of humanity any of them could have. And even knowing that it existed, facing it the way they did was enough to make Alanna sick. It was hard to convince the guys not to do anything rash or destructive after reading that.
They were not inclined to see the good in humanity anymore. She couldn’t blame them, but she did want to convince them otherwise.
Because as terrible as that part of the internet was, there were good things too.
Rescue efforts were underway in the , trying to track down Tuvo and Hattie. And there were a lot of donations from all over the world to assist the ones doing it.
It had gotten out that the domini considered it a high insult to spread the ashes of their loves ones, and as a result, there were all sorts of people talking about tips and tricks for collecting any ashes or remains that might be found to ensure that none of it was lost.
Average people, without the encouragement of the government leaders, condemned the actions of those that had attacked them.
PHAL, practically overnight, was labeled as a hate group and a website was set up to report potential members.
Along with a phone number for anyone who had any information about the coordinated attack and anyone who might be involved.
Because there was definitely more than those the guys they had killed while rescuing each other.
Fan pages had been made for each of the domini guys, and each one was flooded with support. Both for their matings, and for their continued patience with the human race despite everything. None of those pages depicted their attackers as anything but criminals and monsters.
People were already talking about making international holidays out of the alien’s visit. First Contact Day was floated around as a name for the day that aliens first stepped foot on Earth soil. It was practically assured that it would be a holiday going forward.
The other day was proof that Alanna presented to Survii about hope for humanity.
People were calling for their wedding day to be a national holiday.
A day to celebrate love of all races and species and genders.
It was a day that marked the moment that humanity and the Coalition reached an agreement upon their relationship.
It was a good day. A great day. A day of togetherness and love and understanding.
They were still tossing around ideas for names for the perspective holiday, but everyone seemed to really love the idea of celebrating it.
There was bad in the human species. And it was really bad.
But there was also good, and it was infinite and unflagging and never failed to fight back against that badness wherever it found it growing.
Between fighting for her species and searching for her friends, it seemed like the days were passing by far too quickly.
And today, Alanna found herself sitting in an alcove of one of the common rooms reserved for herself and the other human females and their mates. No one else was here, giving her privacy to sip on hot tea from a planet she didn’t know and stare out at the moon.
The beautiful, ever-changing moon. Suddenly laid out before her as though it were the only source of steadiness in all the universe.
All of humanity looked at this moon and saw the same face.
Because, despite the accusations laid against it, the moon never changed.
The same side always faced the Earth, constantly looking over their blue marble like a guardian in the sky.
Were Tuvo and Hattie looking up at this moon? Were they seeing what she did? Did they know they wouldn’t stop until they found them?
“Are you there, vi Vitralai?” The soft call, deliberately pitched low and spoken gently so as not to disturb her if she was zoned out, made her turn.
Survii was walking towards her. And for the first time, he was wearing one of the simple robes popular among the domini.
“I’ve never seen you this casual,” she mumbled as he came to sit across from her in the alcove, bending one knee and resting his arm along it.
For a second, Survii admired the moon, as she had, before he looked back at her and smiling. “I have normal clothing. I choose not to wear it.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Sometimes, I like to be reminded of home.” He slid his hand down the front of the robe.
He hadn’t tied it, leaving it to fall open and reveal his chest as well as the flowing pants he wore.
Both of them a shimmering kind of yellow, almost gold.
He looked like a metallic statue, unworldly and beautiful, glowing from the light reflecting off the moon.
“You get homesick?” Alanna asked, surprised.
He chuckled at her reaction. “Believe it or not, yes. Sometimes, I get homesick. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my clan. I’ve spoken to them since we returned, let them know I was alright, but it just reminded me that it’s been too long since I’ve been home.”
“I can relate,” she mumbled, resting her head on the glass. She expected it to be cold, since it was facing the vast emptiness of space, but it wasn’t. She had no idea what technology or technique made that happen, but she appreciated it.
“I know you can. I’m sorry, Alanna. That I had to take you from your home.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“That doesn’t lessen my feelings of guilt. I wanted to make this a wonderful time for you, and instead, it’s become… well, I believe the Earth phrase is ‘shit show’.”
Startled laughter burst from her lips. She hadn’t been expecting that and it hit far funnier than it really had any right to. Or maybe her emotions were just heightened after everything she had gone through these last few days.
Her laughter made Survii smile in turn. “Thank the ancestors. You can still smile at me like that. Pure and perfect and untainted by sorrow.”
Her laughter calmed, and she set her tea down. She crawled forward. Immediately, Survii leaned back, making a place for her to rest against his chest. Both his arms came around her, holding her tight as he rested his chin on her head.
“I haven’t had any dreams since we got back,” she said, reclining against him. “I didn’t realize it until today, because I was so worried and afraid and sad and busy. But when I came in here and sat down and thought about it, I realized I’ve had no dreams. No bad omens at all.”
“You think they’re all right? Hattie and Tuvo?”
“I think so.” She smiled, closing her eyes. “Either they’re both alive and coming back to us, or they’re gone but at peace. They’re resting in whatever waits us beyond. And I know that nothing would make Hattie so unhappy as to know she was the reason any of us lost our smile.”
Survii said nothing, but she didn’t assume that meant he hadn’t heard her.
The steady rise and fall of his chest rocked her into a doze as she slowed her breathing to match it. His deep, three toned heartbeat was a primal song that echoed in her ears as she luxuriated, for the first time since her ruined honeymoon, in her inner peace.
She didn’t know what befell Hattie, her warm-hearted friend who gave the best hugs, but she could accept the uncertainty.
She could accept the unknowing. Because she knew in her heart, her soul, with every atom of her being, that Hattie’s warmth remained.
It glowed inside her, in her other friends, in everyone she loved and everyone who loved her in return.
That warmth is what brought her peace.
And for now, until she had a firm answer to the question of her fate, and even long afterwards, if necessary, she could accept the warmth of the memory of her love as answer enough.