Chapter 1
ONE
Amelia
Amelia Ward stood still as the old, blind—yet mystically beautiful—Virilian female slowly walked between two rows of white-clad women.
She was known as the sage named Ferias. She dressed in long robes and wore her long white hair in braids that were decorated with beads and gems. From her hands hung strands of necklaces that tinkled as she moved.
Two gorgeous, shirtless Virilian males walked on either side of her.
They looked straight ahead, not once glancing at the beautiful women on display.
The old female stopped and slid a necklace over the first woman’s head.
Amelia could hear the collective intake of breath from her position twelve feet back from the rows of hopeful applicants. The chosen woman had been matched with a Virilian male and would be delivered by one of the twelve transports waiting on the desert sands a couple hundred feet away.
The program was designed to bolster the dwindling numbers of Virilians, whose females were struck with a deadly virus and died by the millions.
Human women were paid well to have a child with a chosen male.
They had the option to stay with their males or return to Earth, and a number of women had chosen to stay, as their pairings turned out to be love matches.
How nice for them. Amelia thought anyone who would sign up to journey across the galaxy to make a baby with an alien male—when there was a whole planet of them here—was ridiculous.
Then again, Virilians were ridiculously attractive, even with their blue tails and the dark skin around their eyes that looked like a ton of black, smudgy eyeliner.
“How soon after they put the necklace on, do we take them?” asked Jacob, her trainee.
“We wait until they’re all done,” she whispered back. “Sometimes they want a moment to call someone, but most of the time they go straight to their ship.”
She adjusted the tight neckline of her uniform and kept a laser eye on the proceedings.
The guards, including her, formed a loose perimeter around the women.
Occasionally, one of the applicants would change their mind and dart off.
It was the guards’ job to retrieve the woman and bring her to a helicopter to be returned with the rest of the unchosen ones. No one was forced to go.
Her job was to escort a chosen woman to her correct transport and get her settled there. “Remember,” she said to Jacob, “we’re assigned to whoever is given the necklace with the light pink stone.”
“Right. Okay.” Jacob was sweating. He kept wiping his brow and would not stop fidgeting.
Amelia had worked for the private security firm that handled the Virilian Match Program for three years.
She’d been around a lot of excited, scared, nervous women, and been to a half dozen of these choosing ceremonies.
They were nothing to sweat over, despite today’s desert heat and the guards’ heavy uniforms. Usually, she didn’t mind trainees, but this one was proving to be more high-maintenance than any woman she’d escorted.
Plus, he’d been sprung on her minutes before they were leading the women from their helicopters to the secret desert location for the transports, appearing out of nowhere in his new, crisp uniform, announcing that he had been sent to train with her.
She’d be speaking with her supervisor about this later.
Another necklace was given out. It was dark blue.
“Is that her?” asked Jacob.
Amelia shook her head and reached for patience. “Ours is the pink necklace. Pink.”
“Oh, okay.”
Two more necklaces were distributed, then the old Virilian female placed a necklace with a light pink stone around a woman with caramel-blond hair. Amelia discreetly lifted her two-way radio. “Amelia Ward requesting stats on applicant two-two-nine. Pink stone.”
A voice from their intel center replied, “Name: Kimberly Humphries. Age: twenty-four. Matched with Klae Rillim, Virilian trade mogul, to be delivered to the Delra-E2 space station. Transport number seven, operated by Taron Bando. Confirm?”
Amelia put eyes on transport number seven.
It was a solid black vessel, shaped like a faceted jewel, pointed side up.
One of the larger ships, it hovered silently several feet above the ground.
“Confirm.” She put the radio back on her belt and kept her attention on Kimberly Humphries.
“Do not take your eyes off our assigned woman,” she said to Jacob.
“Which one is she?” he asked.
Amelia sent him an annoyed look. “Number two-two-nine. Right there with the dark blond hair.”
He looked at the applicant, currently examining her new necklace. “She looks like you.”
“No, she doesn’t.” This trainee was seriously getting on her nerves.
The ceremony ended. The women chosen by the Virilian sage stayed where they were, while the others were herded back onto the helicopters they arrived on.
Amelia strode forward to greet the somewhat shell-shocked woman. “Hello, Kimberly. My name is Amelia Ward, and this is my trainee, Jacob Brice.”
Kimberly turned wide, blue eyes to Amelia’s. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” Amelia carefully put an arm around Kimberly’s shoulders.
The woman’s cold fingers closed around her arm.
She could feel the tremble in her body. It wasn’t surprising.
Most were nervous after they were chosen as a match for a Virilian male.
For many, the reality of it didn’t dawn on them until they were being led to the transport vessel that would take them to the faraway planet or ship or space station.
Amelia had been trained in all the ways to reassure a nervous woman. She’d seen the full range of reactions, from eagerness to outright refusal. Well, the latter had only happened once.
So far, Kimberly Humphries was holding it together well. Aside from that slight tremble, the woman was putting one foot in front of another and walking without hesitation toward transport number seven.
“Is that what I’m getting on?” Kimberly asked, clearly aghast at the hulking vessel they were walking toward. It was an imposing-looking ship, but in this job, looks were deceiving. It was Amelia’s job to deliver Kimberly Humphries onto this ship, not form opinions about it.
“It is. The operator’s name is Taron Bando. You’ll be headed for the Delra-E2 station, where you’ll meet your match, Klae Rillim.”
A large ramp lay stretched out, inviting them into the darkness inside.
Kim leaned over to her. “What if I hate the guy?” she whispered. “What if he’s into some weird kink that I’m not?”
Amelia noticed that the questions were not also directed at Jacob, who looked more nervous than Kimberly. This was why women were usually assigned to escort the chosen women, not males.
“If you end the agreement, he must return you to Earth without delay.” She resisted the urge to unbutton the tight collar of her nondescript gray uniform.
It covered her from neck to ankles in thick cotton, and heavy boots, gloves, and a short-brimmed hat covered the rest. It was broiling hot and bright in the afternoon sun.
She envied Kim’s lightweight dress, but that was all she envied.
Kimberly’s blue eyes sharpened with worry. “He would really do that? No problems?”
This had been addressed during her orientation, but she must have needed the reassurance.
“All you have to do is formally request it,” Amelia replied, reciting the exact words she’d been taught.
“You don’t get the full payment, but you’ll be brought back with no penalty and no questions asked.
Of the three instances where a woman terminated her contract with her Virilian match, protocol was followed without incident. ”
“Okay. Good to know.” Kim swallowed and fiddled with the pendant she wore on the necklace she had just been given. The pink stone glittered with a radiant inner light. “This is getting seriously real.”
They all said some version of that. Amelia guided her up the ramp. An alien “facilitator” was waiting for them there.
Amelia didn’t know his name, but she’d seen him before.
He was humanoid with ice-blue skin and a perfectly bald head that had a bony ridge running down the center of it.
Amelia had stopped being surprised by the aliens who came to oversee this process.
The Virilians wanted an independent agency to verify that the chosen women were put on their respective transports, so these hired individuals came, observed, and departed.
This time was the same. Amelia nodded to the tall alien who probably couldn’t speak any Earth languages, and all three of them led Kimberly onto the ship.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. The main chamber was roomy, simple, and uncluttered, which wasn’t typical for one of these transports.
Seating was in the center, in the form of a curved sofa-like bench, and compartments for items were built into the wall.
Tight, spiral stairs led to decks above and below.
The pilot of the ship—or operator, as they were told to call them—poked up from the lower deck and called a greeting to the facilitator in an alien language.
Amelia caught a glimpse of shaggy dark hair and a handsome face.
A bright white T-shirt stretched over impossibly wide shoulders.
He ignored the women entirely. The facilitator was carrying a plastic package under his arm.
He returned the greeting, then went down the stairs to the operator’s control room.
“Was that the pilot?” Kim asked her.
“Yes,” Amelia replied, surprised to see no attendant. Often, the Virilian males hired a female to accompany the women on their journey and ease their worries by answering questions. Maybe this Virilian male wasn’t the thoughtful type.
Amelia settled Kimberly on one of two low, soft sofas and smiled down at her.
“I hope you have a safe and enjoyable journey to meet your Virilian match.” Again, that was the canned wording for departure.
Everything about this was as routine as it got.
“Do you have any other questions for me?” she asked.
“I was wondering…” Kimberly trailed off. Her gaze focused on something over Amelia’s shoulder. Then her eyes went wide and she pressed back into the cushions. “Amelia, I… Oh, no!”
“What is it?” Amelia started to turn, to see what the problem was, but she didn’t get far. She felt a prick on her neck. Then everything went dark.