Part of me didn’t want to help him.

Part of me did.

I’d left the second meeting with Dane feeling so torn within myself that I truly had no idea what I was going to do. It was my obligation to report to my superiors everything that had been said in the meeting, but I didn’t want to be the messenger of this particular message. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and I was going to do it.

I hadn’t been able to comprehend Dane’s logic when we’d gotten into the discussion of why the war was happening, and I definitely couldn’t believe the highest powers of his race would be so rash in their decision-making. Then again, as he’d pointed out, humans often made the very same mistake leading to traumatic consequences. Perhaps I wasn’t the person to judge, but I couldn’t help feeling like everything our planet was suffering was out of baseless fear.

To make matters more complicated, I was now more interested in the pale blue alien leader than I’d already been. It was no longer just lustful infatuation. He’d unwittingly revealed parts of himself, morals and virtues and behaviors, which drew me in like a moth to a flame. When he’d told me he was a servant to his Elder and his Council, I’d thought he was being foolish, but I’d simultaneously admired the deep-seated loyalty that had burst out of him at that moment. When he’d told me he’d never questioned his government leaders before, I’d thought him to be naïve and purposefully ignorant, but I’d respected his unwavering trust and faith.

Of course, the carnal side of him that threatened to crack through the surface was as magnetic as anything else, too.

I recalled the sound of his throaty growl, and the space between my thighs instantly heated. Reliving the near-kiss and realizing just how little it would have taken to bring it to fruition sent tingles through my entire body, as well as a healthy dose of frustration. No matter how hard I tried to tell myself it wasn’t true, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Dane was dripping with sex appeal, and I had a primal need to lap him up.

“Ms. Rigby.”

The voice jolted me from my intimate thoughts, and embarrassment washed over me in place of arousal. I looked up to see Armando Lowell with General Morgan in tow. Getting to my feet, I extended my hand to Lowell.

“Hello, Mr. Lowell. It’s nice to see you again,” I said politely as he took my hand and shook it. His palm was hot and clammy.

“You too, Rigby.” He popped his lips on the last syllable of my surname, spattering microscopic droplets of spittle on my face.

Armando Lowell was the Associate Administrator for Strategy and Plans at NASA. He was a short man with a small head, a round middle, and a habit of adjusting his round tortoiseshell glasses when he spoke. In the five meetings I’d had with him since taking the position of Ambassador, he’d worn the same outfit every time; a straw-colored tweed jacket, chocolate-brown trousers, a deep crimson tie over a simple white button-down shirt, and scuffed brown loafers. I still wasn’t used to his quirkiness, but I never felt uncomfortable in his presence.

General Morgan, on the other hand, seemed to make it his mission to make me feel uncomfortable. The moment Lowell and I released hands, Morgan swooped in and scooped up my hand like he owned it. I stiffened at once, shooting him the most scathing look I could muster, but he merely smiled back at me with a leering smile.

“How are you, Roxanne?” he asked. His tone was dripping with venomous honey, and my stomach churned with revulsion at the sound.

“It’s Ms. Rigby,” I replied stiffly, trying to pull my hand from his.

His smile widened, and, after a moment, he let go. I resisted the urge to wipe my palm on my skirt and, instead, turned back toward Lowell. He was pulling a chair out from the far end of the table, which was large enough to seat sixteen people comfortably. We were in a luxurious, modern conference room in a building several blocks away from my office. It was another meeting of the Board, and I was about to present Dane’s demands.

The Board of Universal Exploration and Operations was a panel of sixteen highly-qualified people established shortly after I’d been offered the position of Ambassador of Alien Relations. It was made up of military personnel, government officials, aerospace experts, and several representatives from countries around the world. I was not a member of the Board myself, but I was present for most meetings and was often permitted to offer my input on various topics. It was the Board who would decide if Dane’s demands would be met and how to proceed.

“Have the others arrived?” I asked Lowell, who was now seated, wiping his lenses on his tie.

“Most of them are down in the lobby,” he informed me absently, squinting at his glasses. “Petrov and Chen will be video conferencing, but I think Yamamoto’s still in the States. He should be here.”

He was, along with the rest. Petrov and Chen were indeed video conferencing as Lowell suggested, their places at the table occupied by sleek tablets propped up on stands and their faces slightly grainy. I sat at the head of the table, not because I was running the meeting but because I had something to present, and seeing the chain of serious faces all the way down the length of the room sent my stomach into somersaults.

I was barely listening as they ran through the formalities of beginning the meeting, my mind occupied by thoughts of Dane. It wasn’t until I heard my name that I returned to the present and became aware that all eyes were on me.

“Right,” I mumbled, flipping the front flap of my folder open and glancing down at the paper on top. Then, I gathered myself and looked up to the men in front of me. “As you all know, Dane was unwilling to discuss a peace treaty when we first met. I have since held another conference with him, and he demonstrated an openness to the topic he lacked the first time. This is good news for us in reaching our goal to end the war between humans and A’li-uud.”

Nobody blinked, and all eyes stayed locked on me. I swallowed hard and continued.

“Dane informed me that the governmental structure of his race dictates consideration of a truce only to be had by a Council of Elders. He insisted he is unable to authorize a ceasefire without the consent of the Council.”

Still, the Board was unblinking, and I felt my nerves come to a head as I broached the part I’d been so nervous about.

“He is willing to present our offer of peace to the Council, but he is unable to do so from Earth. To that end, he is requesting a ship.”

My breath seemed to leave me in a great rush as I said the thing I’d been most reluctant to say, but it was short-lived. Every man around the table swelled with indignation, and they finally tore their eyes from me to exchange outraged looks amongst one another. While I did not wish them to be angry, I hoped their animosity was for Dane’s demand and not for my gall of even announcing such a notion to them. It appeared to be the former.

“He expects us to agree to arm our enemy with our own assets?”

“What a nerve!”

“It’s bullshit,” General Morgan snarled. “He just wants to get ahold of one of our ships so he can take it back to his freak planet and show his Council what they’re up against.”

“There’s more,” I went on. “He’s asking for his freedom, of course, and the release of his warriors. He also made the demand that, upon receipt of the ship, he is permitted to circumnavigate the globe and return A’li-uud to their respective ships. His final demand is that he and the other A’li-uud are granted immunity from attack, defensive or otherwise, in their return to Albaterra.”

Louder cries of outrage filled the room, but I held up my hand to silence them. I was not a member of the Board and held no authority over Board decisions, but I had to say my final point. It was an opinion, not one of Dane’s demands, but I thought it deserved vocalizing.

“At the end of the day, we want this war to end. If we refuse Dane’s demands, it will continue. If we grant him his requests, the A’li-uud will leave. Whether they intend to make peace or not, giving Dane the ship and allowing his people to evacuate will provide us the one thing we’re hoping for: their departure.”