Alyssa

Harrison waddles ahead of us, looking so purposeful and serious it makes me want to laugh, but Tyr looks just as serious next to me, striding across the ground even faster than normal with his new Eclipse legs. I have learned to make my strides longer to better keep up with him, but walking with him still expends more energy than I am used to.

“You OK?” I ask him quietly, glancing at the Merrel to make sure he isn’t eavesdropping, not that it matters. Aphrodite doesn’t seem to believe his species cares much about anything, but if they aren’t considered ‘sentient’ by this AI then I clearly have no idea what the word means.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he says, but he isn’t making eye contact with me.

Just minutes earlier he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. I could feel the heat of his gaze on the curves of my body, and it felt amazing. I’ve never felt so adored before. So appreciated, physically and otherwise.

Having him stare at me makes me think of the things I know he’s wishing he could do to me. And then I start to think about them more and more until I can’t think about anything else.

I wonder if he understands the effect he has on me just by being nearby. I glance sideways at his firm muscles, tensing and relaxing in a lithe, big cat-like way as he covers ground. The way his brows furrow with concentration about every little thing.

“You seem … distant.”

“I’m fine,” he says again, more abruptly than before. My eyebrows twitch at him in confusion, but he says nothing more.

“Here,” Harrison says proudly, silencing me before I can say anything — probably for the best; I don’t know if this conversation will go well. Clearly my general has something on his mind and I don’t think I want to know what it is.

Except of course I do. I totally do.

We look over to what the Merrel is gesturing wildly at, and for a moment I’m really stunned into silence. But that doesn’t last long. It never does with me.

“Look at that!” I say, and jog closer, my backpack bouncing against my back. I’m reminded of my Mahdnium serum.

All Tyr needs to do is say the word. If he’s not my genetic match, and he decides that he does want to be with me, I can increase the possibility that I won’t die to the maximum with my final shot of the compound.

But he needs to say the word first. I lay the backpack gently on the ground, somewhere safe by a knot of roots.

There is a platform barely rising above a sea of fallen branches and twisting vines. It looks like a combination of the old west and old futurism, with a couple of big rusted control boxes and glimpses here and there of the railway. It seems as though there was a storm some time ago that knocked over a huge gnarled tree but didn’t kill it, and the plants just continued to grow mostly horizontally.

It looks beautiful, like all the best abandoned structures reclaimed by nature back on Earth, but with a twist of the completely unfamiliar. It also looks completely unusable.

“Be careful,” Tyr snaps, striding after me. Harrison hops and skips over vines and roots to follow us. “There are tracks underneath. You might trip.”

I toss a look over my shoulder. “Why are you so worried about me all of a sudd...oh—”

A root catches my toes as soon as I look away from the ground and I begin my inevitable descent to the ground, my arms windmilling fruitlessly. Tyr clicks his tongue, irritated, and launches towards me — and then his face twists in shock as his legs shoot him the entire seven foot distance and he catches me in his arms before he seems to realize what is going on.

“Wow, those legs!” I say breathlessly. I pick myself up out of his arms and laugh at the look on his face. “Why didn’t you just let me fall?” I shove him playfully. “It’s just soft plant stuff on the floor. No need to break a sweat for me.”

He doesn’t take his protective hands off of me, his dark, colorful face contorting into something far more serious, if possible. My own face falls.

“What?” I ask him. He says nothing. Harrison is pulling himself up, legs flailing, onto the platform to stick his head inside the rusty control box. “What?” I ask again, louder this time. I give him another light shove that barely moves his body at all. “What is your problem, Tyr?”

He glares, flashing teeth, and I drop my arms to my sides. “We should talk,” he says, something tinging his words that I don’t recognize — and I don’t know if I deserve.

“Well, alright,” I say, picking my way over the tracks and roots. “I was hoping you would talk. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. That is part of the problem.”

I look at him. At the perfect proportions of his body. The way he radiates competence — nothing like any of the men I knew back on Earth. Tyr is a whole different type of man. I feel sick with worry suddenly. He’s going to talk to me about my genetic mate.

He’s going to let me down.

I knew this would happen, but … I hadn’t really thought about it. I haven’t wanted to.

“This is about my mate,” I say quietly. “You want to make sure I haven’t fallen for you, because I’m being sent to someone else.”

He looks at me with alarm. “Alyssa, no. This is much more important than a worthless genetic matching program. I’m not even sure I believe in things like lifemates, DNA matches … anything like that. I have never seen any evidence. Ignoring that for a moment, I can sense certain things, and I sense…”

“You can tell that I’m too into you,” I finish for him, hopping onto the platform and kicking my legs with a frown. “That’s OK. Really. You don’t have to do this.”

Inside I feel like I’m being torn apart and it’s threatening to leak out through my eyes, but I’m good at hiding things like that. I’ll be alright.

I won’t ever feel this way about anyone else. I know that, deep down, to be a fact, but I’ll be alright. Won’t I?

“Let me talk,” he says, stopping at the platform and resting his palms on either side of my thighs, on the cool surface, and staring intensely into my eyes.

“Sorry,” I say quietly. It’s hard to maintain eye contact without letting them water, but I do anyway.

“You are pregnant.”

“I—” I begin, but then my mouth snaps shut and I lean backwards. “The hell did you just say to me?”

“I told you, I can sense certain things. Humans can’t, I know, but Mahdfel have more powerful senses for some things.”

“He’s right,” the AI speaks into my ear. She’s coming in handy. “The Mahdfel find it quite sweet that the woman tells the man when she is pregnant on Earth. Often for them it is the other way around.”

“Am I pregnant?” I whisper. Tyr nods, not knowing I’m talking to Aphrodite.

“I can’t tell you that, but from what I am programmed to know, it’s unlikely he would lie about this.”

“What?” I say. “I … I guess it makes sense. We did have unprotected sex, twice.” I rest my face in my hands and groan. “I’ve never done something so stupid before. I just got caught up in the moment. Two moments. Oh, god. What do we do?” I look up at him, face tight with worry, and watch as his own face relaxes. He softens into something sweet again. I missed this Tyr.

“It’s good news,” he says. “I think.”

“How? I’m probably going to die if the pregnancy lasts to labor. And the dude I’m meant to end up with … he’ll be so mad. It could be an intergalactic … thing. You know?”

I go to bury my face in my hands again but he takes my wrists gently and pulls them down to my lap, and then takes my face in his own hands and kisses me on the lips.

It instantly relaxes me.

I have Tyr. I don’t need to worry.

“I…” he begins, his hands solid and warm against my thighs. He grips me, stares right into me, and then…

There is a thundering boom and the dirt and roots to our right fly into the air and spray us with debris, making me cough and wipe at my mouth.

“What the—” I demand, but Tyr is already leaping into action.

“Ship!” Harrison cries, standing as tall as he can and pointing beyond the trees.

“I hear nothing!” Tyr argues, but then I see it. A sharp, angular creation, that looks nothing like what I’ve seen of the Eclipse, crests above the nearby canopies and seems to point its impersonal nose right at us. The windows at the front look like the beady black eyes of a predator.

And it charges up its laser again.

“The Prototype?” Tyr sputters. “Impossible. Who is piloting it?”

He doesn’t have any more time to think as another blast is levelled at us, exploding into the dirt where we just were. Just in time, Tyr snatches me and ducks under the platform.

“Alko!” he roars, but I don’t know what that means or whether he actually thinks the operator of the spacecraft can hear him.

“Tyr, what’s going on?” I shout. His arms are circled protectively around me but the ship can only miss so many times before it locks onto its target and there’s nowhere left to run.

“Harrison, are you alive?” he bellows. There is a squeak of affirmation from above us on the platform and my alien general nods. “Calculate the angle. Train to ship via fallen tree. Got it?”

“Good idea,” I hear, and then a determined scuffling. “Got it.”

“Amazing creatures, the Merrel,” Tyr mumbles. “Fastest mathematicians. Apart from the Quazlar, of course. And any non-organic species, too.”

“What is happening?” I cry a second time. “Tyr, is someone trying to kill us? Who is that?”

He turns and looks me right in the eyes. “Do not panic,” he says. “Stress is terrible for a baby. But that is my boss. The head of the most powerful military force in the known universe.”

“What?!” I scream. “You work for some kind of murderous—”

“I did not realize he wanted us dead!” he interrupts. “Honestly, I thought him to be incapable of taking a stand on anything. I must admit, I’m impressed, in a way. Stay here.” He leaves me under that platform, partially concealed by foliage and roots, and ducks out, and scrambles up above me to rendezvous with the Merrel.

“Tyr!” I yell out.

“Stay still,” he roars. “What is the angle?”

“Ship must be … there,” Harrison says. “Impact at sixty miles per hour. Ship must be there for impact low as thirty.”

“Thirty,” Tyr says gruffly. “Start the train. I will lower the ship. Alyssa!”

I scramble backwards as the dirt in front of the platform explodes again. “Yes! What do I do?”

“Stay there!” he roars. “Do not move.”

“Right,” I say, backing up. “Don’t move. Stay put. Fine.” I pout. Because I’m pregnant. I need to stay alive long enough to reach my Mahdnium injection … or I’ll die anyway.

It’s great to have choices.

“Be careful!” I cry. “Tyr?”

There is no answer.