Dante’s Command: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Science Fiction Alien Romance) (Survival Wars Book 1) (2 page)

There was an impression of metal, an abrupt sensation like
that sleep-jerk reaction she sometimes experienced, but that was all.

Too tired to check the clock to figure out when this
fitfulness ended, Mariella was just glad it eventually did.

Something wasn’t quite the way it should be.

Mariella opened her eyes and just lay in the darkness,
trying to figure out exactly what was wrong.  It was something, though she
couldn’t quite put words to it.  Maybe it was a change in the lighting, a
sudden absence of green alarm-clock glow, or maybe it was the difference in
smell.  But perhaps the biggest difference, the thing which didn’t match the
most, was how hard it was to breathe.  Her lungs ached halfway, as though there
wasn’t quite enough air.

Am I having a heart attack
? she thought calmly,
searching for pain in herself and finding none.  All the same, something was
wrong. 
Don’t panic.  Just reach over and grab the phone.  It’s that
simple.  Nothing to it.

But even the bed beneath her wasn’t the same.  It was a cot,
hard and thin and not at all comfortable.  And when she moved, there wasn’t
enough of it.  Suddenly off-balance with her arm flung out and batting at thin
air, there was no way she could catch herself and she tilted over and fell.  It
was a longer fall than she would have thought, longer than a drop from a hotel
bed to the floor might have called for, and when she hit the ground she
discovered it was smooth and solid.  There was no echoing thump, only a dull
thud of contact which her skin echoed inside herself with a murmur of pain.

There was more wrong here than she realized at first.  She
knew that now.  Drugging and kidnapping came to mind, but other than the
difficulty breathing she couldn’t find anything wrong.  And
was
it
difficult to breathe?  Her heart beat steadily, and her lungs worked fine, as
near as she could tell.  The air was just thick, but somehow without being
musty or thin.

Maybe that was a sign of being drugged.  Maybe all this was
a feverish hallucination, and she was high in some jerk’s basement.  Recalling
her dream, of an expressionless man, it upset her how likely the scenario was. 
And what could she do about it?

Experimentally, she looked around.  With such low light as
this it was impossible to tell what anything was for certain, but this room
didn’t resemble a bedroom or basement in any way.  In fact, judging by the
chemical smell and the hard, flat angles with polished gleams all around her,
it looked very close to being a hospital room.  That wasn’t a reassuring
thought.  This couldn’t be a hospital, which meant she was being held by
someone who was very sick.

I wasn’t tied down,
she reminded herself.  That
either spoke to her kidnapper’s incompetent, or it meant there was something
else keeping her inside:  a locked door, for example.

But how long had she been awake now after making a great
deal of noise?  Five minutes of sitting, listening, and waiting, and she hadn’t
heard a single voice or footstep.  Actually, now that she thought about it, she
couldn’t hear anything but her own breathing. 

And that was enough thought.  It was time for action. 
Rolling over, Mariella pushed herself up to her feet and blinked several times
to try to get her eyes to finish adjusting.

To her, at least, it did look like some sort of medical room
but again, not quite.  From what she could tell, her cot was set flush against
the wall.  The rest of the room was ringed with shiny countertops, though some
seemed to have screens, buttons, or otherwise simply be shaped in weird ways. 
Some of the counters had tall chairs before them, and a space beneath for leg
room, but what any of this meant she had no idea.

The middle of the floor, such as it was, was narrow and
really offered nothing in the way of answers.  But there across the way she saw
a darkened entryway.  No door, merely a long dark hall.  And as little light as
there was in
this
area, she simply couldn’t get a feel for that hallway. 
She had no idea how wide it was, where it led to, if there other ways to go
when walking down it.  She knew nothing.

So, lacking anything else to do, uncertain if anyone would
come for her or when –or who they would be- she took matters into her own hands
and strode the few feet to the hallway.  Stretching out her hands to touch
either side, she started to walk down its length and into the blind depths.

The hall seemed to go on for ages, never splitting off into
separate directions.  Several times, her hands encountered more doorway-gaps in
the wall but she skipped over them and continued on.  She would follow this
train of thought until the end, and when it proved fruitless she could circle
her way back to one of these entrances and see if it branched off there.

As it was, she didn’t have to.  Suddenly, the hall ended. 
Rather, it spit her out in the entrance to another room.  It was brighter here
than in her mystery room, bright enough for actual colors to edge out through
the grey, and it was larger and completely rimmed around the outer edge with
more of those cots.

And sitting on one, absently playing with his own fingers,
was a man.

Mariella stopped in her tracks.  The man looked up and his
eyes went wide.  Her heart stuttered for a moment as she recognized him as the
roguish, emotionless man from her dream –from what she now suspected were
partial memories.  And then he stood.  She realized suddenly that her
impression was wrong.  They weren’t the same.  This guy looked younger by a few
years, with curlier hair, but otherwise they were nearly so identical as to be
brothers.

The man stiffly rose to his feet, as if his joints were
bothering him.  And then he spoke, but it wasn’t English.  In fact, it wasn’t
any sort of language she’d heard before until now.  It was composed of many,
many light and quick syllables, but there was also a hum beneath it which
continuously changed pitch and tone as he spoke.

Silence fell.  The strange man looked at her, obviously waiting
for a reply of some kind.

He doesn’t seem harmful, but I thought the same thing
about that dog, too.

And if she was wrong about this, she would end up with more
damage than a warning bite.  Still, she couldn’t do anything else now but try,
and so she just shook her head.  “I’m sorry,” Mariella said softly, shaking her
head again.  “I don’t speak your language.”

The man sighed and muttered something in a tone of disdain,
though he immediately looked apologetic for it, and then he strode past her. 
He said something else as he brushed by without touching her, and she stood
there watching the shadows swallow up his back, wondering whether that was a
command to stay where she was or go with him.  After a few moments when she did
neither, he looked back at her, and then lowered his head in a bow before
muttering a few words.

She took a few steps forward, and then man went off again. 

What the hell is going on?
she wondered, hurrying to
catch up.  This guy didn’t act like any man she’d ever seen before, what with
all his submissive posturing, and she tried to remember any cultures where
women were prized but couldn’t think of any.  In any case, this one didn’t look
to be too foreign, but maybe that was because everyone looked the same in
near-darkness. 

At one point, she ran into his back when he suddenly
stopped.  The guy flinched and then muttered yet something else she couldn’t
understand before his footsteps started receding to the right.  Obviously she
had missed this turn of the hallway while thinking it was just another doorway. 

And it was lighter here, and growing lighter all the time as
they walked.  She looked up at where the ceiling should be and finally
identified the source as tiny slits near the top of the wall, tucked beneath
the ceiling.  They grew in power and intensity the further along they went, but
she still had to squint to see anything even once the amount leveled off.  But
what she could see still made no sense.  Metal, metal, and more metal.  The
corridor was boxy and impossibly long, or so she felt.  And this branch didn’t
have any other doors along it, at least not any that she could see. 

Suddenly, she saw the end.  It was a flat wall and nothing
else, but as the man continued to approach the entire wall suddenly split in
half and heaved apart just enough to allow them access.

Motion-controlled,
Mariella wondered, sliding her
fingers along the inside of the split.  The surface beneath her fingers was
warm and pulsed faintly.  However, she quickly lost interest in that due to the
fact that
this
room was just that much brighter than the hallway,
allowing her to finally see as much as her heart desired.

And it looked like what movies portrayed as being NASA’s
control room, if on a smaller scale.  There were rows of desks and strange
computerlike devices, and a man sitting before each –they all looked so similar
to the one that she followed in here that it was dizzying.  Even more dizzying
than that was the sudden realization that those computer screens were not
black, and neither were the walls.  They were overlain with a grid, with a
barest speckle of color, with a variety of things, and they were moving.  As
she watched in the moment before her presence was noticed, the grids shifted,
the colors blinked in and out, fingers moved over odd keyboards or reached out
to touch the screen. 

The barest of an idea formed in her mind at long last, a
niggling suspicion of what all this could be, but she just wasn’t sold on the
idea until she looked over to the far side of the room and saw him.

He was dressed differently from the horde of identical men,
and he did not sit with them in their rows.  Instead, he was surrounded by a
raised circlet of metal, secluded off to one side with his own private screen
that was far larger than theirs.  His eyes were hollow and golden, and his jaw
was much stronger.

Very slowly, he looked away from his screen and turned in
her direction.  Those unnatural eyes narrowed, and he said, in perfect English,
“You are awake at last.”

The man who led her here moved away and strode over to the
row of computers, taking his place at the only empty spot.  As he moved away,
everyone else moved closer.

Mariella pressed her back against the wall, heart starting
to pound with unpleasant thoughts even though she willed herself not to do
that, but they didn’t actually head for her.  They headed away, through the
hidden doorway in the wall.

After a moment, the man with golden eyes said something in
that unidentified language, clearly addressing the lone man at his computer. 
He argued back, but it looked like there was no arguing with someone who was
apparently above his status, because at the end of it he lowered his head and
filed out after the others.

And then they were alone, the two of them.

In English again, the man said, “I have heard and seen quite
a lot of you, Dr. Robertson.”

Mariella stared at him.  “Excuse me?  Who do you think
you
are?”  She hated to act like a prissy little bitch but this was going too
far.  “How about you tell me what’s going on here, and then I’ll decide if I
want to exchange pleasantries.”

The man shrugged, but bowed his head submissively.  That
startled her.  She hadn’t expected that gesture from him, had assumed he would
be higher up in power than the other man, and therefore might not consider himself
low enough to bow.  But, no.  He did, and then spread his hands submissively. 
“I am truly sorry if I have made you uncomfortable, Doctor.  It was not my
intention to do so, but I saw no other way.”

“You couldn’t have introduced yourself at the party after
the seminar?” she asked bitterly, somehow knowing all the while that he hadn’t
been there.

He shook his head, as she knew he would.  “Something so
simple for your kind is not for mine.  We are near enough to the same but not
quite.  Your air is too rich in oxygen for my blood.”

Your air.

At least this explained –even in such an unbelievable way-
why it was so hard, but just barely manageable, for her to breathe here.  And
their anatomy did look remarkably similar.

What am I thinking about?

Mariella shook her head at herself, feeling a little
scandalized by her own romanticizing of the situation, but she was a scientist
through and through.  She couldn’t deny having wondered at the universe
before.  Was this her answer, then?  At least, it seemed to be.  In her fields
of work and knowledge, the simplest answer is often the correct one.

“What’s your name?” she asked, and braced herself for
something she couldn’t pronounce.

“Dante,” he said, and then reached out for her hand.  “It
has a similar meaning to my name in my own language,” he explained, sensing her
confusion as he bowed low over her offered hand.  “And you are Mariella. 
Should we be as such to the other, or would you prefer a more professional
arrangement?”

Mariella raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’m afraid you’ll have
to explain things to me a lot more before I’m going to want to have anything to
do with you, Dante.  In any capacity.”

It just slipped out, that bit of a taunt.  It held only the
barest hint of sexuality but the man blushed like she stuck her hand down his
pants. 

Turning his head away slightly, Dante took a deep breath and
visibly forced himself to relax again.  “Very well.  I should have known that
is what you would require.  I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.  My
name is Dante, and I am not from your world.”

There it was, out in the open.

If she was anyone else but Mariella Robertson, she would
have slapped this bastard in the face and then run away to try and claw through
these metal walls.  Unfortunately, she was very distinctly herself.  This was
too grand a thing to be a façade, too real to be fake.

All the same, she started breathing faster and had to force
herself to stop.  Too much of that and she’d have a panic attack.

Eventually, she just said, “Okay.  What world are you from?”

“I believe you call it Venus?”

Venus.  What did she know about Venus?  It was closer to the
sun, and similar in size to Earth.  It rotated in the opposite direction of
most planets, and had a day that lasted longer than its year.  Other than those
bits of trivia, all she could remember was that the surface appearance of Venus
was said to be similar to traditional accounts of Hell.

Delightful.

She looked him up and down, noticing how he squirmed when
she did so.  “How can you survive on Venus?  You look way too similar to
humans.”

Dante shrugged a bit.  “We are different in a number of
ways, I am assured.  We do not spend much time on the surface, and we have
special suits for terrestrial travel.  Otherwise, the atmosphere in our
buildings and craft are rather similar to this.  But, that is not of a concern
to you.  That is not what we need your help with.”

“My help?”

“Yes.  You see, your broadcasts from Earth leave your planet
and head into the atmosphere.  It is the same for all such things, and most of
it is pure drabble.  However, I recently became aware of a pattern within the
broadcasts and paid closer attention.  That is how I heard of you and your
work. 

“I deliberately piloted my ship away from our regular patrols
to come here and find you, Mariella.  I have left a sizeable gap in my planet’s
defenses and I will very likely be punished in a harsh manner once I am
returned, but I and my men were willing to risk it all for a chance to meet
with you.  You see, this is a matter of power.”

Of course it is.

“You want my help with power when you have all this?”  She
gestured around.  “Obviously your people are a lot further along with
technology than mine.  I’m not sure what I could help with.”

As she spoke, Dante’s eyes darkened.  He sighed.  “Yes, we
would have no need of any of you at all if not for certain circumstances.  Your
people are violent and my Queen resisted giving me permission to seek your help
because of this.  One adversary is enough.  However, a single human should be
no problem to dispose of if you choose to hurt us.”

Her mind spun with all this new information.  “I would be
stupid to try and go up against a whole planet.”

“You will have to convince them that, not me.”

“I shouldn’t have to convince anyone of something I don’t
even know about yet,” she said pointedly.

 “Yes, I apologize.  I will tell you now that there are not
many of our kind left.  Those of us who remain live in a single colony beneath
the crust of our world.  We are dying,” he said simply.  “Our resources have
been depleted greatly in the past several years.  That is why we keep the ship
so dark.  Even so, this is one of the last ships still in operation.  All the
rest of our fuel and energy must be used to take care of our females and
young.”

“But
why
do you have such an issue with power?” she
pressed, trying not to feel frustrated.  “What’s depleting your resources?”

“We are under attack.  Under siege.  They are called Mites,
to you.  They are a parasite unto the universe, destroying everything they
touch and enslaving those who will not fight back.  We have not surrendered,
and so they have killed us all and destroyed our resources.  We are all that is
left, and when our power is gone, there will be nothing to stop them.”

Mariella looked down, thinking rapidly.  On the one hand,
her heart cried out for this solemn, attractive man and his noble mission
–going against the wishes of his Queen and risking everything to come here. 
Yet, on the other, she knew that this wasn’t really her fight.  It sounded
incredibly dangerous and besides, her mission was helping to further Earth’s
development.

But, everyone on Earth has access to everything I knew. 
Everything.  I didn’t keep anything a secret, so even if I’m gone…

She knew she was just stalling for time.  Her mind had
already made itself up without her consent and if she went against it, she
would hate herself forever.

“Okay,” she said softly, “I’ll do it.”

The change that came over his face was almost worth all this
strangeness and confusion.  He smiled, and his entire face lit up.  His honey
eyes glowed brighter than the lights.  “Thank you,” he said, and suddenly went
down on one knee.  The gesture was so similar to a proposal that she almost
slapped him away out of surprise, but she held still and waited.  He merely
stayed leaning against his knee, head down and supplicating at her feet. 
“You’ll change everything, Mariella.  I know you will.”

“Please stand up?” she said, uncomfortable.  He hesitated. 
“Look, if we’re going to do this, I need you to…”  She paused.  What did this
man seem to be lacking?  After a moment, she found the word.  “I need you to be
confident.  In front of your Queen, and with me.  You can’t expect me to lead
you through all this when I don’t speak your language or know anything about
where you live.  So, you have to help me while I help you?”

As her words sank in, Dante started nodding.  He stood when
she finished, and then touched the back of his neck in a sheepish little
motion.  “I apologize.  It is not how things are done where I’m from, but I
will make the effort for you.”

Don’t worry,
she silently reassured him.  Now that
she was committed to this, she was quite committed indeed.  Simply being there
and working on the problem wouldn’t be enough.  None of these people would
trust her to help –and might very well kill her- if she offended them or their
customs.  She would learn their ways, and how their things were done, and she
would be as respectful as she could when she had to break those rules to save
them.

So strange how she was already thinking so far ahead, but
she needed to give her brain something to chew over before they even arrived. 
Two problems came to mind.

“First,” she said, catching his attention as he turned to
glance at the large screen on the front wall, “how are you able to talk to me? 
The one who brought me here couldn’t.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding a little surprised, and then lightly
touched his wrist.  She glanced down, noticing for the first time the thin band
of metal wrapped around his skin.  She couldn’t tell how it could be taken off
easily, almost like a bird band.  “This device is a novelty amongst my people. 
Well, it was before we could not afford to keep such novelties for pleasure. 
It is able to listen to a program and decipher the language, and then
communicate the translation to the wearer through the vibrations which are part
of our language.”

“And then you talk back to me…How?  I’m not wearing one.”

“It’s a bit more complicated for that,” he admitted.  “They
are very complex and delicate instruments.  As I said, they were considered
novelties and are no longer used for the play that we can’t afford.  Very few
of us still keep them around.  And I was not high enough in stature for one
when they first came out.  I made mine myself.”

“You made a ‘very complex and delicate instrument’ and
you’re the captain of a spaceship?  But you weren’t considered important enough
to get an original?”  Mariella shook her head, and then dropped the issue.  She
would remember this for later.

Suddenly, a single alarm bleeped.  Dante whipped his head
around so hard she heard his neck crack.  A small part of her took notice of
his miles-wide shoulders, the ripple of muscle beneath his odd clothes, and
then she snapped back to herself.  “What’s going on?” she asked.  “Dante?”

“Do not worry,” he said thickly, but she heard a buzzing
deep in his throat and realized how agitated he was.  His arms shook with
tension.  “It is only an anomaly.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” she said, a little annoyed.

“A small group of Mites.  They have found us.  Do not be
alarmed.  Just, get against the wall and I will protect you.”

Mariella protested, “Dante,” but just then the door opened
and the men –who must have been waiting just outside- poured back in and headed
for their computers.  All except for one that was, and she couldn’t tell
whether he was the one who led her here or not, but he politely grabbed her by
the shoulders after stepping around behind her. 

“Let go,” she growled, and tried to step forward.  To her
amazement, despite their apparent submission and reverence towards her, the man
resisted.  “Dante!” she snapped, and then stopped as he strode away from her
without a second glance, and mounted a short ramp up to his circular array of counter
and screens.

His face was a hard mask of anger and concentration, and
suddenly she realized that he was going to protect her.  At least, that was
what he thought. 

And she thought about how he said the word “females” before,
and a slow bit of an idea blossomed in her mind.  She shook her head to clear
it, though.  There would be time for that later.  This was important.

The man holding her still suddenly stiffened.  Mariella
turned her head to follow his gaze, and caught sight of three flickering blips
of light on the largest screen.