Alien and the Wedding Planner
The doors opened into a massive chamber several stories high, with shelves floor to ceiling on each level filled with what looked like thick decks of playing cards.
“These are the Crimean Imperial Libraries. Thousands of years of knowledge.” Ice led her through several chambers. “Anything you wish to know about our planet and people can be found here, as well as the entirety of knowledge on any topic, field of study, or skill. You may access anything you wish except the banks on the uppermost level. Those are reserved for people with the highest clearance—mostly military and ruling information.”
The questions in Alana’s mind all rushed out. “We’re underground, aren’t we? That light outside isn’t a sun. The gravity’s different. I can tell, but it doesn’t affect me. How…”
She asked several questions without a breath. When she finally had them all out, Ice nodded.
“Crimea is mostly ice tundra. We haven’t figured out a way to flourish on the surface efficiently and because of it, we’re subterranean dwellers. The waterways flow this far down, and our engineering and scientific knowledge has helped us create greenhouses, waste systems, and generators that keep the atmosphere breathable, clean and healthy. Come.”
He led her from the libraries to another lift, still answering questions. “Your modifications make it possible for you walk, speak, and move normally here.”
A head rush made Alana briefly dizzy. She guessed they were moving sideways at an incredible rate of speed. When the lift stopped, the doors opened to reveal a maze of gardens below them, all carefully domed with what looked like thick glass or crystal. The heat and humidity in the massive chamber was incredible, and the plants went on as far as she could see.
She’d had mostly vegetables at the banquet, and she’d noticed that what looked like a kind of carrot didn’t taste like one. The potato wasn’t quite right either. And the shrimp on her plate tasted similar but not exact. No one had been eating what she thought were land mammals—nothing similar to beef or chicken.
“You live off seafood and agriculture?”
“Seafood? Oh, ocean harvests. Yes. Very astute, Alana. You’ll adapt to life here quickly, I have no doubt.” Ice paused a moment, then said, “I should get you to your room. I need to get back to work, and you need to rest.”
He led her away, but she laughed. “Rest? Haven’t I been asleep for three months?”
“Suspended animation isn’t the same as sleep.”
When they reached her room, after more lifts and long, glassy hallways, she took his wrist before he could leave her in the open door. “Ice, I still don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Aren’t you at all curious about me?
“I am curious about the methods you’ll use to help us.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean, who I am, what I believe, what I feel, what I care about. I feel that with the three months we’ve been apart—though it feels like yesterday since I slept through it—you’re kind of distant. I feel we were closer when we were in the ship.”
Ice tilted his head a little, and it reminded her of a dog hearing a whistle. “I…what do you care about?”
At least he was listening to her now. That was a start.
“Not long ago the first thing I would have said was that I care about getting home. But that’s something for the future, isn’t it? I care about my business, which I’m no longer there to run. I care about my employees, my friends.” She almost scoffed at herself. It wasn’t like she had any these days beyond the occasional lunch date where her couple of friends talked about nothing important and neither did she.
“I care about the life I’ve been forced to leave behind. And now that I’m here, I guess I care about trying to help you.”
She put a hand on Ice’s arm, the muscles firm and tense beneath the shiny fabric of his shirt. “Now tell me the things you care about. And I already know your mission to save Crimea is one of them. Tell me something else.”
Ice stared, his mouth opening slightly, but he said nothing. After a long silence stretched between them, Ice said, “That is all I care about at the moment.”
Maybe her disappointment showed on her face, because Ice nodded curtly. “Sleep well, Alana. I’ll see you in the morning.” And he was gone before she could say anything else.
What the hell?
What the hell, man?
Dude wanted to kiss me and now he acts like he barely knows me? What the fuck? What the flying fuck? Alana was so annoyed she wanted to kick something. Anything. Mainly his ass.
She might be good at helping couples get married but she didn’t still understand men. On top of that—alien males. You’d think this one came with an operating manual. Maybe some read-me file.
Gah. This is so frustrating.
She wanted to get some personal details from him. Find out about his family, friends and the types of things he enjoyed. If he’d ever been attracted to anyone, or had the urge to have sex with them. Just knowing one of them a little more intimately could help. And for some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about how broad his shoulders and chest were, how strong his arms appeared, and how it was likely that no one had ever touched him or given him physical pleasure of any kind.
A body like Ice’s never knowing the pleasures of the flesh, that was downright criminal.
But if they were all as emotionally stunted as Ice and the other Crimean she’d met, Alana worried that the whole planet was about to be disappointed in their new “savior,” who couldn’t do a thing to help them.