Chapter Four
Kristoff
I don’t know what time I woke—sometime after dawn, I think. There was a warm, golden light pouring in through the nearby window which was quite different from the pinkish light of Femme One. The Majoran solar system has a red giant star at its center so even at noon, our day looks much like an Earth sunset.
I would have gone to look out the window but when I tried, I found that someone had tied my wrists and ankles to the strange, metal-framed sleeping platform I was on. Not only that, but they had taken my armor and sword. I was wearing a thin, short shift-type garment which ended well above my knees, probably because it had been sewn for one of the inhabitants of Earth.
I had been on the small green and blue planet for a number of days and the first thing I had noticed was how small they all were here. They might well be Pure Ones, with rare DNA, but it didn’t seem to have done them any good—at least none that I could tell. Even the new Incarnation of the Goddess-Empress, whom I had been watching over, was smaller than her predecessors. Though tall for an Earth female, she would still only come half-way up to my shoulder if we stood side by side.
The Goddess-Empress! Charlotte Walker!
Suddenly, my activities of the night before came back in a flood. I had been watching over Charlotte, waiting to reveal myself until I could first identify the threat I was certain was stalking her. Why was I certain? Because of the Court politics on Femme One. There was always someone seeking to gain power and the Ascension of a new Empress to the throne was a perfect time to gain it.
The moment the news spread that the old Goddess-Empress, Sundalla the 999th, had Ascended to the Heavens, the race had begun to find and crown her new Incarnation. Of course, there could be only one true Goddess-Empress, but that wouldn’t stop ruthless power mongers like Prince Morbain—a male I particularly loathed—from trying to put their own imposters on the throne. Morbain and others like him would seek to put a weak, easily controlled female in the place of ultimate power—that way they could rule through her and twist the galaxy to their own will.
Sure enough, someone—probably Morbain—had sent an assassin-droid after Charlotte. I had been waiting, hidden by Nicean stealth technology that essentially rendered me invisible, and watching the entrance to her place of work where she was apparently a Healer. From my vantage point, I had seen the droid appear, stepping from mid-air to make a grab for a young male wearing the same long white coat many of the attendants at this House of Healing wore. So, apparently I wasn’t the only one with stealth tech—it was an unwelcome surprise but good to know.
I had grabbed for the droid—which was faceless and silver at the time—and kept it from taking its intended victim. Who just happened to be the same male that had insulted the new Empress in my presence later that night. The one I had felt compelled to punish for his insolence. At the time, however, I only knew I had to stop the assassin from finding its target.
I knew what the droid was trying to do—the moment it snatched some helpless, unsuspecting idiot, it could suck out their life-force and assume their identity. And by choosing someone who was already emotionally close to Charlotte Walker—someone she considered harmless and not a threat—it could kill her quickly and easily, the moment it got her alone.
I had dragged the struggling droid around to the abandoned side of the building, trying to disable it. But the sleek, silver killing machine had another surprise for me—nano-tech.
My armor is incredibly strong—made of the best alloys the galaxy can produce. But it’s not meant to repel a weapon so small it can seep through any chink or crevice. As I struggled with the droid, I felt them working on me—thousands, perhaps millions, burrowing into my skin to make the long, jagged wound which Charlotte had sewn up last night.
Though I fought with all my might, the nanites had taken me down, ripping into my flesh, seeping inwards to attack my vital organs. In fact, I had no doubt that without the transfusion of sacred blood the new Empress had given me, I would have died of their damage.
The blood—why had she given me her blood? My mind swirled with the memory of her essence entering my body. It was forbidden for any save the Consort candidates to have the Empress’s own blood, and even they only imbibed a tiny bit of it during the Culling Ceremony. To have it pumped directly into my veins—it was worse than wrong—it was sacrilege.
I had tried to stop it but Charlotte had ordered me to allow the transfusion to go on. Why? Was it simply to save my life—the life of a male she had never even met before? If so, maybe she truly was worthy of my devotion, as my old mistress, Sundalla the 999th had insisted she would be.
No. I hardened my heart against such a thought. Though our relationship had never been physical, I had loved and served my old mistress with my whole being. I had promised to protect her successor but I knew I could never give myself as wholly to another mistress as I had to Sundalla the 999th. Most probably, Charlotte Walker had given me her blood because she had no idea of the consequences of her actions.
As she had no idea that an assassin-droid was stalking her, intent on taking her life before she could ascend to the throne.
It shall not happen! I swore to myself. Charlotte Walker was the true incarnation of the Goddess-Empress—I knew it because I had the Vision—the ability to see the gorgeously-hued rainbow aura that radiated from her like a cloak of pure energy. But the Vision was rare—in fact, I might well be the only male with the gift left in the Majoran system. Which meant that Charlotte would have to pass several tests to prove herself as the true Incarnation, since I doubted the Council would take my word alone on such an important matter.
But she had to survive the inevitable assassination attempts first—and how could she survive them without me to protect her?
I knew what victim the assassin droid had taken—the older male with stooped shoulders and graying hair. He didn’t look threatening in any way but I had seen the gleam of silver deep in his eyes when he looked at Charlotte…I had to get to her before the droid did.
If it hadn’t gotten to her already.
No—can’t think like that. Have to get out of here and find her!
I tugged experimentally at the soft but strong restraints that bound me to the metal bed. I could tell that they would hold a lesser male easily—probably even a large Earth male. But I am Majoran—the Captain of the Imperial Guards. No restraints could hold me from honoring and protecting my new Empress. Though my heart had been given to my old mistress, still my loyalty belonged to her new Incarnation.
I tugged again but the restraints were at the wrong angle for ripping. Soon I concluded that it would be easier to tear away the part of the bed I was bound to. Of course, I didn’t know how much noise it would make or when someone might come into my room. I would have to be quick—I couldn’t risk getting injected with another dose of sleeping medication.
Gripping the railing with my right hand, I gave a quick, hard jerk. There was a sound like tearing metal and the entire long bar came off in my hand. Then I was able to reach across my body and untie my other wrist. The process was somewhat awkward because I was still tied to the metal railing, even if it was free of the sleeping platform, but I managed.
I had gotten myself free of both wrist restraints and one ankle restraint as well, when I heard voices outside my door.
“…haven’t got a bed for him yet, so we put him in here and just left him on the gurney,” one—an older sounding female said. “He’s supposed to go to the psych ward and be evaluated.”
“Why?” asked the other—a lighter, younger female voice.
“Apparently he came in dressed in a Roman gladiator outfit with a huge sword and everything.”
My ears perked up at that, even as I worked fast to get the last restraint untied. My armor had my stealth tech and weapons, as well as the remote that would call a shuttle from my ship, which was orbiting invisibly around the Earth’s moon. I needed it if I was ever going to get the new Empress
off this ridiculous little planet and back to Femme One where she belonged. I wondered what the Earthlings had done with it.
“He was all cut up from some kind of a knife-fight and he was asking for Dr. Walker,” the older voice said.
“Who’s that? The blonde intern? She’s really pretty,” the younger one said.
“Yeah, but she’s as cold as they come. I heard Dr. Hunter asked her out and she turned him down flat. Can you imagine?”
“She turned down Dr. Hunter?” the younger voice squealed in obvious disbelief. “Is she crazy?”
“Probably just frigid—you know, married to the work.”
The other voice snorted. “Hell, I’d leave this place in a heartbeat if someone like Dr. Hunter offered to sweep me off my feet. Wouldn’t hesitate a second.”
The door opened, as I had been hoping it wouldn’t, and both females came in, still talking. Their conversation stopped abruptly, however, when they saw me standing there, out of my restraints and towering over them with a scowl on my face. Of course I was scowling—how not? They had stripped me of my weapons and armor and tied me to a sleeping platform when I should have been protecting my new mistress.
“I…uh…” one of the females stuttered, staring up at me.
“Where is my armor?” I demanded, getting right to the point. “What have you done with it? I need it.”
“I…I…” the younger female stammered. Apparently she was too shocked to speak. Unfortunately, the older female had no problem speaking—or shouting as it turned out.
“Help!” she yelled, backing away. “Security—Security!”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I had to find my armor and get out of here! Then I felt something strange—almost a tug, somewhere in my midsection. I looked down at myself but couldn’t see anything. The tug came again—were there still some nanites inside me, doing damage?
Hastily, I ripped the flimsy garment I was wearing off—which wasn’t hard since it tied in the back with little strings—and stared down at myself. My flat, muscular abdomen looked the same as always but I could still feel it—that tiny but unmistakable tug just behind my navel. What could it be?
“Oh my God,” whispered the younger female, her eyes glued to the area between my legs.
Belatedly, I realized that ripping away the thin garment had left me naked. Not only that, but for some reason my shaft was standing at attention, hard as a rock. I felt the tug again and my cock hardened even more. What in the Frozen Hells was going on?
The older female had already turned and fled but the younger one was still backing away, a look of horror on her face as she stared at my erection. From the expression on her face, I guessed she thought I was going to attempt to molest her.
“I have no intention of harming you sexually or any other way,” I said, taking a step towards her. “I have sworn my chastity to the Empress. I just need my armor.”
“No…” she moaned, dissolving into tears. “Please, don’t…please.”
I heard voices and shouting in the hallway outside the room and realized that the older female had run to get help. I had no time to get my armor now—I had to leave the House of Healing before I was captured and sedated again.
Pushing past the weeping female, who had now fallen to her knees and was crouching on the floor, I ran down the long hallway, in the opposite direction of the shouting voices.
Feet were pounding down the hallway behind me but thankfully, there weren’t many people in my way. I saw a few startled glances as I flashed past but no one tried to stop me—I think they were too surprised to see a large male running past them in the nude. My erection bobbed in front of me indecorously with every step but I couldn’t help it—the damn thing wouldn’t go down!
Running down the halls of the House of Healing nude, with my shaft waving like a flag wasn’t my finest hour, I’ll admit that. But at the moment, I was just intent on escaping to find Charlotte.
I turned a corner and then another. I wanted to find a safe place to hide until the pursuit died down and I could find a way out of the House of Healing. There were any number of rooms up and down the long hallways but most of them appeared to contain sick pilgrims who had journeyed there to be healed. I needed to find someplace that was unoccupied.
At last I saw a sign that said, Supply Closet. Employees Only. I blessed the foresight that had prompted me to take an injection containing strands of translation virus that facilitated not only the understanding of spoken language, but of written words as well, and ducked inside.
Inside the closet there were stacks and stacks of white linen and lots of other Earth implements I didn’t recognize. I was just about to examine them when I heard a voice outside the door shouting,
“In there! I thought I saw him go in the supply closet!”
The knob started to turn and I knew I was trapped.
In any other situation, I would have fought my way out. Even unarmed I was larger and stronger than any of the Earth males I had seen and I had been trained in the arts of hand-to-hand combat since I was a boy.
But I do not like to kill innocents and several of the voices were female—I had no wish to hurt them. They were chasing me because they thought I was crazed—out of my senses. And I couldn’t say that I blamed them—in their situation, I would have thought the same. So I did the only other thing I could do…
I stepped back against the solid wall of white linens and concentrated on blending in.
Majorans are chromatachromes—meaning we are able to change the color of our hair, skin, and eyes at will. By the time the door swung open, revealing two beefy males in blue and gray uniforms, I was the exact some color from head to toe as the linens. Even my eyes were white and I didn’t move a muscle—didn’t so much as twitch as they stalked around the small storage area, blank frowns on their pudgy faces.
“Is he in there?” asked a quavering female voice—I thought it belonged to the younger female who had feared I would force her sexually. As if I would do such a thing! Even if I had not sworn my chastity to the service of my Empress, the very idea of taking a female against her will was repugnant to me.
“Don’t see him,” one of the males said at last and the other grunted in agreement.
“But I was so sure,” she insisted. “I saw him go in!”
“Sorry, Darleen—he must have gone in a different room,” the first male said dismissively. “Now look, why don’t you go back to the nurses’ station and let Bill and me hunt him? It’s not safe for you to be looking for him.”
The female gave a miffed-sounding reply but I didn’t catch it—they had already closed the door and moved on.
I held my new color for a few minutes and then, with a sigh of relief, I let myself revert to my normal dark tan. In the presence of the new Empress, of course, I would automatically take on the gold skin-tone that only the Imperial Guards are permitted to use and when I began to serve her, my skin color would match her mood—but only in private. Out in public what the Empress was thinking and feeling must be kept secret—so my skin would remain gold at those times.
But just now, I wasn’t with my new mistress and so I could relax and let myself be the color I had been born with.
Speaking of the new Empress, I had to get out of this closet to find and protect her. But how could I do that with everyone in the House of Healing looking for me?
My question was answered when my eyes fell on another stack of fabric—this one light green. It looked like the color of the strange, baggy clothing Charlotte and her colleague had been wearing the night before.
Unfolding one of the stacked garments, I saw that it was so. The shirt I found was much too small for me but after rummaging around in the pile, I finally located one that fit—albeit tightly—over my chest. The trousers were a different problem—none of them were long enough for my legs and the thin material showed my continued erection embarrassingly.
Because I was still hard. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t full of desire, n
ot the way I had been the night before when the new Empress’s blood had begun to work on me and I felt her cool touch on my fevered skin. So why…?
I felt that tug behind my navel again and suddenly made a connection. The Goddess-Empress was said to have sacred blood because it called her people to her. Of course, it was just a saying but what if there was some truth in it? What if the tug I felt was leading me in the direction of my new mistress?
The minute the thought occurred to me, I knew it to be true. The tug was leading me to Charlotte—maybe even because she was in danger! I had to get to her.
I found another stack of linens—this one of the white coats so many of the staff wore here. Most were too small but there was one labeled XXXL that finally fit. Shoes were a problem—they had taken my boots. Then I saw a small, rectangular box marked, Shoe Covers. Inside I found pale blue ovals of thin cloth that were clearly meant to stretch over the feet. They were a tight fit for me, even without shoes on, but I made do. After all, they only had to get me out of the House of Healing and on my way to find Charlotte. I felt instinctively that she had left the area and was on the move.
At last, I looked almost Earth normal—well, except for my size. Crouching a little to disguise my height, I ducked my head out the door. No one was watching so I stepped out, keeping the too-tight white coat wrapped firmly around myself to hide my continued erection. Gods, I wished it would go down! It was extremely uncomfortable to be sporting such an obvious mark of desire, not to mention the discomfort of trying to walk with the rigid shaft between my legs.
There was a sign at the end of the hallway marked Exit with an arrow beneath it. The tug behind my navel told me to follow it. In fact, it tugged so urgently I had to fight the desire to run. Was the new Empress in danger? I had to find her soon! But I knew if I went racing down the halls again, I would only attract attention to myself. Trying to look as though I belonged there, I strode confidently down the hallway at a brisk pace.
Hang on, my new mistress, I thought as I followed the urgent pull that guided me forward. I am coming for you—I swear I am!