Her Brutal Alien (Alien Overlords)

I am also out of fermented brew, which means there is a short amount of time before I find myself at the mercy of a brutal headache which could destroy me entirely.

The palace is still open to me. I am greeted with respectful nods. They feel good. It has been almost a month since someone nodded at me respectfully.

“Tusk, we have several matters of state to attend to.” Ryder the attendant approaches me with an arm full of hastily gathered paperwork. “I am so glad you are here. The trade situation is… eep!”

That is the sound he makes as I nudge him out of my way and head to the dungeon. I am not here to do business, or drag Megaris out of a trade slump, or stop Krush from creating an intergalactic diplomatic incident, or manage the courtiers and their vicious gossip.

Tyvian meets me at the entrance to the dungeons. He must have seen me coming. I hope he is not so foolish as to try to stop me for a second time. I do not think I will be able to show as much restraint as I did on the first occasion.

“Tyvian! I have come for my mate.”

He clears his throat and moves his hair from one shoulder to the other, and then back again. He looks nervous, and not in the way he usually looks nervous when I see him.

“Ah. Yes. There’s one small problem. Margaret is missing.”

“Missing?”

“Well, perhaps not so much missing, as not here right now.”

“How long has she not been here right now?”

“A day? Two days?”

I snarl.

“Four days,” he admits. “She’s in Megaris. Somewhere. She wanted to go and see the city, and we saw no harm in it. She went with the royals. Krush and Jax escorted her, but they came back early because it was Christopher’s nap time. She stayed behind to enjoy the sights. As far as we can tell, she is still enjoying them.”

“Or she is dead in a scum hole.”

“We don't think she is dead in a scum hole. She has made contact semi-regularly via the communicator they left with her.”

“So, my pregnant mate is wandering around the worst of Megaris and occasionally making contact, and you have done nothing to find her, or to tell me.”

“Krush ordered me not to make contact with you after the first time. He said she had chosen not to be with you, and that she was better off without you.”

“KRUSH!”

I take another stop on my journey through the palace. My temper is beginning to fray in a very serious way. Making amends to Rath was not nearly as terrible as I thought it would be, but discovering that Margaret has been set loose in the city has soured what might have been a wholesome experience of personal growth.

The royal quarters are a hallowed place that must be respected. I hammer on the doors as if they are the entrance to a scum brothel. I’ve forgotten my staff. I used to carry that everywhere. I think it is propped in the corner of the kitchen.

The golden king of Megaris appears with a diaper in his hand.

“What is it, Tusk?”

“You left my mate in the middle of Megaris.”

“Margaret enjoys the city.”

“Really. My pregnant mate enjoys wandering the streets of an unfamiliar alien realm stocked to the gills with vicious scum. And not a single one of you has gone to find her. Because you don’t care what happens to her. Because you are more invested in spiting me than…”

“Do you want me to tell you where we left her?” Krush interrupts me.

Margaret

I left the korabi alien part of the city and travelled into the city proper. Four days ago, I knew nothing but the sleek palace. Now I realize that there are more things in this city than I could ever imagine. I have enough of their currency to stay in a local hotel, and I’ve been told what areas to avoid. I miss Tusk terribly, but Megaris provides almost endless distractions. I particularly enjoy sitting out on the pavement under an electric umbrella and sipping various juices.

I’ve been led to believe that some of the humans here, the scum, have recently been granted a higher status by the king. There are others, very well-dressed humans with glasses stuck on their heads. They seem less happy, and they do not respond to me at all.

“What the fuzk are you wearing?” One of the inhabitants of the city approaches me with an aggressive, enthusiastic question. I have managed to obtain clothing more like the dresses and skirts I wore on Earth. It does make me stick out. “It’s cool.”

“I can make you some. I just need some fabric and a sewing machine.”

She smiles broadly. “I can probably steal both of those things. Are you staying here? This is a nice place.”