Bad Alien Boss (Royal Aliens 6)

“Aliens?”

“Aliens,” she agrees. “Well, alien funds. I’ve been thinking about it. Doing research. Ever since I got too big to move.”

“Tell me.” I’m curious as to what she’s come up with. I like a good conspiracy concocted by a smart woman temporarily put out of operation by the wriggling contents of her uterus.

“We left the gold standard on August 15, 1971, and the richest and most powerful people in the world started capitalizing on alien technology instead. That’s the same year microprocessors became widely available. Coincidence?”

“So you’re smart. You know dates and things.”

“I know more than I need or want to know, and now you do too.”

“So you’re going to have a strobe light baby?” I change the subject back again because her words are giving me that prickly queasy sensation in my stomach I always get when the fabric of reality is being torn from beneath me. I thought she was going to say some crazy shit. Instead, what she’s saying damn near makes sense, or it at least sounds plausible to someone who wasn’t born for almost two decades after the alleged alien takeover.

“What?” It’s her turn to be confused.

“That’s what I call these dudes. The way the lights change over their bodies, it’s like strobe lights.”

“I guess. Is that strobe lights? I thought strobe lights just flashed really fast. You’re thinking of more like an RGB keyboard.”

“I am thinking of an RGB mouse. That’s what I’m thinking of! So, you’re going to have an RGB baby. Do you think it will be all sparkly?”

“I have no idea,” she says, smoothing her hands over her round belly. “The gestation period for these aliens is three years. I am thirteen months pregnant. I have no idea how long I will be in this state. I could give birth tomorrow, or stay pregnant for another year or more.”

“Oh fuck.”

I make a mental note to not have sex with these aliens. Three years of being pregnant sounds like literal hell off Earth. I was never really that keen on the idea of being pregnant to begin with. The whole Russian doll person inside a person just seems… I don’t know, freaky.

I keep that thought to myself. I’ve found people look at you like you’re a complete psychopath if you express anything other than gibbering glee at the prospect of a baby.

“So are you, like, okay? Do you need anything? I don’t know…”

I don’t know what to do, or how to help her. I feel sorry for her. She’s so vulnerable, and so large already.

“I’m fine. It’s nice to see another human face. I saw one a while ago, but then he was eaten by giant praying mantises.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. It’s like that out here. Things happen. Then other things happen. It’s all very strange. You’ll get used to it.”

I doubt I will, but I am sure she is used to whatever ‘it’ is.

I hear the doors swing open again. They make a swooshing sound, though I feel as though they should creak. That would feel more authentic.

The king enters the room, followed by Tyrant. Neither one of them pay much of any attention to me. I am like a lamp, secondary to the needs of the brood queen. Is it cruel to call her that? Probably.

They gave us all of five minutes alone to talk. I guess they didn’t have much faith in my ability to handle myself around another woman. Don’t know why.

Tyrant swoops in between us, as if I am not even there. He obviously only has eyes for Tania.

“My love, have you slept well?”

“Sleeping is all I do. I hope I do it well,” she says.

Tyrant smiles and nuzzles her with an affectionate gesture then wraps her in his big, scaled arms. The tenderness of his expression is extreme. He loves her. You can feel it like a physical force emanating from him and filling the air. I don’t feel sorry for her anymore. I am kind of jealous.

I find myself glancing between the two alien males. Tyrant and Terrible don’t look all that different. They also don’t look the same. They share this dragon shark appearance, the big brow which should be ugly and isn’t because of the incredible expression and beauty of their eyes.

If I find Tyrant hot, do I think Terrible is too?

No. He’s a jerk. Tyrant is a king, so he has that king energy and sexiness. Plus, he really seems to love his mate. I can tell just by the way he looks at her as he strokes her hair that he adores the ground she walks on. I’ve seen that kind of love before. Not for myself, but for friends and family who weren’t super fucked up, but normal, and who managed to find nice, normal guys who worshipped the ground they walked on.

Terrible is just a sadistic authoritarian who plays by his own rules and seems ready to stop at nothing to subdue me to his will.