Chapter Eight
Desert Skies
Step one to leaving a life on Earth behind, forever: I had a no-nonsense general checking in on me like a persistent ghost, making sure I didn't so much as sneeze without permission.
Step two: Two Volardi octopus-like drones with zap-happy AI had been assigned to escort me everywhere, including the bathroom.
Three: I agreed to an international press, no, interstellar conference. Yes, I was totally fine being the bridge between two cultures. Nope, there was no coercion here. Then I talked about what beautiful babies I'd make with my alien husband.
Step four: I managed to squeeze in two hours of friends and family time before saying goodbye to everything I'd ever known.
No more wisecracks from Wyatt, no more of Chase's analytical tangents or Joel's suspicious warnings.
Bye, margarita nights with Brandon. I used precious minutes to listen to my father talk about how he'd always defended me.
Now I left him with 'an alien snake in my belly. '
Finally, I boarded a bubble-shaped hovercar and tried not to hyperventilate on the way to the crystal spaceship floating over Los Angeles.
Dad will survive. That's the important thing. The others will be okay too.
Chase would get his replacement eye and stop dodging comments about the glass one. Wyatt and Joel could call in favors from the Volardi. The press wouldn't be as poisonous to Brandon and the others alone once I was off-world, and Earth wouldn't get bulldozed by the Empire.
Zephyron was Zephyron, but he didn't deserve to have his family torn from him. I couldn't bring his mates back, but I could stop things from spiraling further. I'd be, not the balance, but a small weight to tilt the scales back. At least, that's what I had told myself.
The general sat across from me, in a crisp uniform, and looked far too comfortable piloting a flying alien car-shuttle.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
His eyebrow arched. "You mean helping them?" After I nodded, he continued, "I'm not. I'm looking out for us."
"From where I'm sitting, it looks like you're helping them cart me off to an alien desert to marry their king."
The general's expression didn't waver. "Technically, the term is Sentinel, and we can't fight the Volardi.
" His voice stayed calm and measured, "Let's start with the obvious.
Their technology is centuries ahead of ours, so much so, we don't know how many.
Suppose it doesn't matter now, but we've had one of their ships since the Forties.
We still can't figure it out, only that its security responds to whistles and what we'd call musical notes. "
"Wow. Roswell?" I asked.
"That was another one. Theirs came later, and the point is, they could disable every satellite, missile, and vehicle we have with the flick of a switch. They could turn our cities to ash without taking boots to the ground."
I waited until we flew through a white, fluffy cloud. "I saw the Russian missile attack."
"It's more than that. The Volardi don't fight wars.
They end them. Quickly, decisively, and with overwhelming force.
When they decide to conquer an enemy, like the Gloom, they don't negotiate or play political games.
Standard procedure is to solve a planet's problems for a third of its territory and erase enemies. "
He pointed to the giant crystal spaceship over Los Angeles. It was easily the size of several suburbs.
"We lucked out because they need us. Earth's gay men for babies, to be specific.
Beyond a rough first official introduction, they seem to like us and care about other cultures and ideas.
We have things they've never considered before.
Do you know how many races in the galaxy have invented movies?
Television? Complex music with instruments and stories?
None. Just us. The Volardi are fascinated and can't get enough. "
"So, Earth is saved because of 'Netflix and Chill.'"
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost like he wanted to smile. "Something like that."
I stared out the window, burning a mental photo into my mind.
LA and its deep blue oceans were such a part of my identity.
Even my surfboard was in storage, a reminder more than anything.
It would help me remember my last splash in the Pacific.
I also had my guitar, and there was no reason I couldn't play my favorite tunes in the desert.
Westmore's voice softened. "Your father is alive because of you.
Your brothers will have opportunities nobody else has ever had.
And you, Thomas? You could have a good life and make a difference.
" For a moment he was almost fatherly. Then he continued.
"That said, you signed, and there's no going back.
The only question is how you move forward. "
***
A Volardi crystal shuttle the size of a double-wide trailer flew away from the mothership. The faceted hull glinted like a single giant gemstone in the golden afternoon sun. Monitors showed us in flight, and it must have been from outside cameras or drones that I couldn't see.
Blue light shimmered from the underside as it began its silent climb.
Intricate patterns along the surface pulsed faintly with energy, like veins.
From inside, the curved windows revealed Los Angeles' sprawling web of roads and freeways, neighborhoods from East LA to Hollywood crammed like puzzle pieces, and palm-lined boulevards snaked toward the glinting silver-blue ocean.
Downtown's glass towers caught the last Human sunlight I'd see unless I got to visit again.
"I thought the main ship would take us."
Zephyron, seated across from me, turned his head slightly.
His angular face, impossibly sharp, betrayed no emotion.
His eyes with deep, liquid pools of purple flicked to the window and then back to me.
"The Emperor decreed it remains as a symbol.
This city appears to convey cultural ideas more than most."
He pressed a metal button that had grown out of the panel, then disappeared. In silence, he rose, then walked back through the corridors. The ship behaved like it was on autopilot, and I followed.
Two figures rested side by side at the shuttle's rear, their forms completely wrapped in layers of ochre and sun-faded yellow shrouds. I swallowed hard. "Those are..."
"Pargith and Elai," Zephyron said, his voice heavy. "What your world would call my Beta and Omega mates. Their bodies are hidden as per tradition." He guessed my question. "When a Volardi passes on Sudo, their form is concealed and buried under sand. They will live in our memories."
"I..." My throat tightened. "I'm sorry."
Zephyron's gaze snapped to me, sharp and unforgiving. "Do not apologize for what you did not do."
I wanted to argue, to say I was responsible in some way, but the words stayed in my throat and died.
"The journey will take some time, and you are welcome to sleep with me."
I know my eyes widened.
"Our implants will induce an unconscious state for the journey.
Many find staring at The Black unpleasant.
" Alen had once shared his story with me.
His ship was unique and made for speed, but while Humans saw stars, his people concentrated on the spaces within.
The dark nothing. It was too much like their afterlife for dishonorable Volardi.
Every time they traveled the stars, they essentially passed through Hell.
Zephyron got on the floor with crossed legs and closed his eyes. I could sit in the chair, look out, and be alone with my thoughts.
Yeah, no.
"I'll stay with you. Them."
It was the least I could do and still not enough.
***
I didn't remember time passing. The arrival announcement came in a musical-tinged Volardi accent, and the implant repeated it in English. We were high up in Sudo's atmosphere, and Zephyron tapped sleek buttons that had appeared before his fingers hit the panel.
I expected the ship to turn red at the edges, but we just zipped down. Instead of the blues and greens of Earth, this desert world was painted with jagged reds, oranges, some yellow, and a whole lot of brown. So much brown.
"My province is on the opposite side and in the nighttime cycle."
I turned back to Zephyron, trying to find some understanding in the wreckage of what was now our lives. "Can I ask you something?"
He inclined his head.
"Why are you being..." I searched for the right word. "Less acidic?" With Humans, I would have assumed shock or mourning, but that didn't seem to be the case.
He leaned back in his seat, his broad shoulders shifting, and he spoke with a deliberate calm, "I do not desire further punishment."
Before I could press him for details, he continued, "When we lost our Femeni, the heart of our empire died with them.
They tempered our rage and balanced our instincts.
Without them, we have become unbalanced.
A true Volardi union requires three pillars, but they were the most important.
" His eyes turned distant as if he were seeing something beyond the shuttle.
"So many lost their mates to the Gloom's virus, yet I did not.
In my arrogance, I thought I was favored somehow.
The ancestors surely smiled upon me and bestowed protection for my years of duty protecting Sudo. "
His jaw clenched. "When I came to your planet, I befouled the Emperor's name and duty. I was hostile to you, a future Omega. Our ancestors sought to punish me with not one loss, but two." The air turned heavy. "My actions," he said quietly, "killed them. Pargith. Elai. They are dead by my hand."
I shook my head, and my voice broke, "N-No. My father did."
Zephyron's gaze stayed unrelenting. "He was an agent of our ancestors' will."
"That's insane," I snapped. "He was drunk, not a divine instrument."