Alien Bonds (Wakanreo Book 1) Read online

  Alien Bonds

  by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Cracked Mirror Press

  Rockville, MD

  A Cracked Mirror Press Book

  Rockville, MD USA

  Cover design by Najla Qamber, https://www.najlaqamberdesigns.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9979898-2-3 (paperback)

  ISBN: 978-0-9979898-3-0 (Kindle format)

  ISBN: 978-0-9979898-4-7 (ePub format)

  © 2018 Karen Wester Newton

  All rights reserved

  Books by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Wakanreo Series

  Alien Bonds

  Alien Vows

  Alien Skies

  Haven Series

  The Sixth Discipline

  No Safe Haven

  The Nameless World Series

  The North Edge of Nowhere

  Oaths and Promises

  ThreeCon Series (read in any order)

  The Nostalgia Gambit

  Saronna’s Gift

  Shades of Empire

  Tribes

  Worlds Apart

  Alternate History

  King of Trees

  Young Adult Science Fiction

  Turnabout

  Drifters

  Fantasy

  Where Magic Rules

  Bag of Tricks

  Hidden Magic

  As this story was inspired by my parents’ divorce,

  it seems only fair to dedicate this book to their marriage.

  Note to readers:

  There is a glossary of Wakanrean terms on page 377.

  For readers using a Kindle or Kindle app the X-Ray features has been enabled. You can long press a Wakanrean word, a character’s name, or a place name for a description.

  Chapter One

  Dina ran one hand down the smooth red fabric of her fanciest party dress. The loose folds of the long skirt hid the tiny bulge of her pocket com. She put on her jacket, and the gray gloves she had worn to work that day. She would need to buy gloves in more colors now that she had to wear them whenever she left the apartment.

  Her desk com beeped and spoke. “Call from the Third Confederation Liaison Office.” Instead of answering on her pocket com, Dina sat down at the desk. Hopefully, there was nothing wrong with her residency status.

  A black-haired man in a blue and brown ThreeCon uniform smiled engagingly at her as soon as she acknowledged the call. “Hello, Citizen Bellaire. Remember me?”

  Dina had met so few humans on Wakanreo that placing him was easy. “Of course. Your name is Jared Harlingen, and you were the ThreeCon representative at my orientation. Is there anything wrong with my residency permit?”

  “No, no.” His blue eyes lit with amusement. “Believe me, this call is entirely personal.”

  Dina was suddenly shy. “I see.”

  He grinned again. “Actually, I’m hoping you’re free this evening. I just got two tickets to the wrestling matches.”

  It was the last invitation Dina would have expected. “Wrestling matches?”

  He nodded. “Believe it or not, Wakanrean wrestling is great entertainment. And it’s a wonderful way to learn about Wakanrean culture.”

  It sounded a lot more appealing than a blind date arranged by an old school friend. Dina was tempted to accept, but her Fantaran upbringing had been very strict. “I’m sorry, but a friend of mine invited me to a party at the Terran Embassy tonight, and I said I’d go.”

  His face betrayed no overt sign of disapproval, and yet Dina suspected he wasn’t pleased. “The Anniversary bash? Bah! It’ll be deadly dull—a whole herd of Terrans congratulating themselves on their achievements, with just a few Wakanrean celebrities invited so the Terrans can show they’re not too proud to rub shoulders with the locals—figuratively speaking, of course. Nothing so exciting as actual shoulder-rubbing will occur. You won’t enjoy yourself at all.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Believe me, watching Wakanreans try to throw each other to the floor will be infinitely more interesting.”

  Dina suspected he was right, but she shook her head. “It sounds like fun, but I promised my friend I’d go to the party.”

  He grimaced with exaggerated fatalism. “Ah, well! My loss is Ambassador Inoue’s gain. Perhaps another time, then?”

  “I’d like that. And thanks for the invitation.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “How’s it going in general? Is Wakanrean standoffishness wearing you down?”

  So it wasn’t just her perception. “It’s just that everything is so different here,” she equivocated.

  Jared smiled at her attempt at diplomacy. “They’re not naturally unpleasant people. We Terrans created a bad situation.”

  Dina was puzzled enough to be blunt. “What does that mean?”

  He lifted his hands in a persuasive gesture, “Wakanreo asked ThreeCon to keep us out. The Terran government balked, and finally they hammered out the ‘no-touching/wear-gloves-at-all-times’ rule. It may have prevented the original problem, but it’s caused its own set of headaches.”

  Dina wrinkled her nose. “I can see that. I feel like I have a contagious disease.”

  “You do, in a way. So far as we know, all of us Terrans have the potential to destroy a Wakanrean’s life.”

  “But,” she protested, “I don’t understand why the no-touching rule is so inclusive. You said in the orientation that some humans—Terrans, I mean—have set off the Wakanrean mating process—”

  “Shahgunrah,” he interrupted.

  “Yes, shahgunrah. You said some Terrans caused it to start in Wakanreans, and because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime event, it meant they could never mate with anyone else.”

  “Precisely.” He smiled his approval.

  “Yes, but what about the ones who’ve already mated? Aren’t they safe?”

  His benign smile slipped a little. “You have me there. It’s true. Any Wakanrean who is already shahgunrahai—mated—is immune to glashunrah—false shahgunrah.”

  “So why does everyone at work treat me like I have the plague? They can’t all be single.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t have time for a history lecture on what’s happened on Wakanreo in the last seventy years.”

  “Oops, me, too. I mean I have to go. Thanks for calling.”

  “Sure thing.” His easy smile returned. “I’ll call you in a few days. Meanwhile, give my regards to the Ambassador.”

  “Do you know the Terran Ambassador?”

  He reached for something on the bottom of his screen. “I’m ThreeCon’s liaison officer for the entire Wisutan region. Ambassador Inoue knows me well enough to hate my guts. See you soon, I hope.”

  DINA exited the autocab, carefully extracting the skirt of her gown, and looked around for the entrance to the embassy.

  What had appeared to be a tower at one corner hid an alcove with an arched entrance-way. Relieved, Dina stepped up to the door monitor and took out her pocket com. She pressed her thumb onto the device and then held it up to the scanner; the door opened.

  She stepped inside. The space was shadowy, almost somber. Soft music filled the gloom, but she saw no sign of Arliana.

  Dina left her jacket at the coat check and turned toward the curving central staircase that wound up to a huge wall-to-wall mezzanine. Under the mezzanine, Dina could see illuminated instruments moving in the darkness, the musicians mere shadows behind them.

  She had started toward the steps, but before she could do more than grasp the banister, a voice called her name.

  “Dina Bellaire! There you are!”

  Dina looked up. Arliana Cheng stood at the top of the stairs. Her iridescent blue gown—as long as Dina’s
and more elaborate—revealed her considerable cleavage. Arliana had muted the effect by draping her bare shoulders with a long trailing scarf of the same blue fabric.

  “Dina!” Arliana cried again, running down the stairs in a swift, gliding descent. Her scarf billowed out behind her like the wings of some exotic insect. Between that and the silver glitter liberally dusted over her short black hair, she definitely drew the eye.

  Dina smiled to herself. Had Arliana been waiting to make that maneuver? “Hello, Arliana.”

  “I was afraid you were going to be late.” Arliana slipped one hand through Dina’s arm.

  “It took me a while to decide what to wear,” Dina said. She glanced around. “This place is huge.”

  “It was built as a mansion by a wealthy Wakanrean.” Arliana bent her head close to whisper. “Our companions are at the top of the stairs. Mine is the black-haired one. I saved the redhead for you.”

  Dina glanced up and saw two Terran men in tight-fitting formal trousers and belted jackets standing at the top of the stairs. Both were smiling, although the black-haired man looked truly amused while the other man seemed merely polite. Her date was the shorter of the two, Dina noted with a mental sigh.

  Arliana pulled her up the steps at a rapid pace, giving her little time to size up her companion for the evening. Dina wouldn’t have called him a redhead, except, of course, that true redheads were very rare. This man’s hair was so dark an auburn that the dim lighting made it brown with reddish highlights. His eyes were brown, and his complexion the usual golden tan common on Terran colony worlds.

  He had a pleasant face at any rate. Dina held out her hand at Arliana’s urging. “Hello. I’m Dina Bellaire.”

  “Erik Kordes.” He shook her hand.

  He wasn’t wearing gloves. In fact, of the four of them, only Dina’s hands were covered. Both the men had gloves tucked under their belts, but if Arliana had any on her person, she had concealed them well.

  “And this is Ben,” Arliana concluded the introductions. “Let’s all get something to drink, shall we?”

  “If you like.” Ben led the way through the crowd. “But all I’ve seen so far is amber wine.”

  Arliana made a face as she let go of Dina’s arm to take Ben’s. “Pooh! Practically kiddie wine. Too bad the Ambassador is so intent on pleasing the natives.”

  Dina glanced around at the assembled company. At first she saw only a sea of human forms and faces. Then she noted a considerable number of Milorans scattered through the crowd, their massive size making them resemble boulders on a shoreline. There seemed to be fewer Shuratanians, but then their small bodies made them inconspicuous.

  “There don’t seem to be any Wakanreans here,” she said, as Ben accosted a servoid whose tray held an array of tall wine glasses.

  “There are at least a dozen for sure.” Arliana accepted a glass from her date. “I know because I got the authorization for the invitations to go out. The Ambassador has asked some local celebrities—a few dance actors and wrestlers, the Prefect of Wisuta, a couple of singers, and the rest poets and writers.”

  “I heard the Prefect declined.” Erik sipped his amber wine. “Probably doesn’t want to risk contamination.”

  Arliana laughed. “No, I’m sure she’s safe enough. She has a mate, remember?”

  “So where are these celebrities, then?” Dina asked. It made her uncomfortable to hear the three of them disparage Wakanreans without any regard for their own status as guests on the planet.

  “There are two of the dance actors,” Ben said with a sideways nod of his head toward a clump of people in one corner. “The two tallest ones in that bunch are big names in the Wakanrean dance theater.”

  Dina glanced toward the group and saw that there were indeed five Wakanreans mixed in with a larger group of Terrans. Taller than the Terrans, they also seemed intent on keeping their distance from them. “Oh, you mean the woman in the blue trousers and the man in the striped cape?”

  Erik smiled in appreciation. “I’m impressed, Dina. It took me weeks to be able to tell Wakanrean men from Wakanrean women.”

  Arliana tittered. “Naturally. The women are all flat-chested.”

  Dina tisked at her friend. “Don’t be silly. You can usually tell whether humans—Terrans— are male or female from their faces.”

  “Yes,” Erik answered her comment without waiting for Arliana to speak, “but I know Terran faces very well. I’m not very good at any part of Wakanrean anatomy.”

  “It’s not that different without the fur,” Ben said. “If you were to skin a large Terran and a small Wakanrean, it would be difficult to tell them apart—except for the claws. And if you peeled back the musculature and left only the skeleton and organs, it would be even harder.”

  “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?” Dina asked, sipping her own wine.

  He took a long drink from his glass before he answered. “Of a sort. I’m an endocrinologist, but I don’t practice.”

  “Then what do you do?” Dina said.

  “Research.”

  Dina was curious. “How did you two meet, Arliana?”

  Her friend waved one hand in an airy arc. “Oh, all the Terrans in Wisuta know each other.”

  Ben looked amused. “There are between thirty and thirty-five thousand Terrans on this planet, and most of us live in Wisuta.”

  “Well, they know about each other, at any rate,” Arliana said.

  “Besides, we all work at the Embassy,” Erik added. “I’m in Accounting, Arliana is in Systems, and Ben here is in Monitoring.”

  “I thought you said you did research,” Dina said.

  Ben put his empty wine glass down on a passing servoid and grabbed a full one. “I do, in a way. I monitor and evaluate Wakanrean biomedical research.”

  “Oh,” Dina said, unenlightened.

  “I refuse to talk about work,” Arliana said. “This is supposed to be a party. Let’s get something to eat.”

  She pulled Ben behind her and made her way through the crowd. Dina followed. It was a relief not to have to worry about touching anyone. Previously it had bothered her to brush up against total strangers, but after three days working at Quafray, physical contact felt comfortable and reassuring.

  They came to a buffet table lavishly covered with food, but Arliana didn’t seem happy. “Umph! More local stuff. I’m not that hungry.”

  “What’s that?” Dina pointed at a tray of what appeared to be delicate blue flowers drizzled with green frosting.

  “Ishgua,” Erik said. “Broiled undersea creatures served with a garnish of edible mold.”

  Arliana shuddered, and Dina had to smile. Moving from Fantar to Croyzan had made her friend more adventurous about sex, but not about food. For Dina it had worked the other way around. “Sounds interesting.” She took an ishgua from the tray and sniffed it.

  It had a delicate but pungent odor, almost like the smell of seagrass back on Fantar. She popped the ishgua into her mouth. “Tasty.”

  Ben took one also, but both Erik and Arliana left them alone. They moved farther down the table and found a platter of grilled meat on sticks.

  “Oh, juija, that’s okay,” Arliana said with relief.

  “Juija are small herd animals raised for food,” Ben said. “They taste almost like chicken. Try some.”

  Dina took a stick and nibbled the meat off of it. The juija was chewy and mild, a little sweet and salty at the same time.

  As they walked, Dina noticed that Arliana and Ben were drifting away. Erik, on the other hand, had moved much closer.

  “So,” he said, holding her arm to steer her away from a cluster of people, “Arliana says you’re a chemist at Quafray.”

  “A very junior chemist. And I’m only an employee, not a member. I’ve only worked there for a few days.”

  “You must be pretty damn good to get your foot in the door with Quafray. They’re one of the biggest companies on Wakanreo, and Wakanreo is a real leader in chemical technology.”

/>   “I know that,” Dina said, a little irritated, in spite of the compliment, to think he felt a need to explain this. “Why else would I move all this way just for a job?”

  And why else would she have agreed to live on such an alien world? If she had known she would have to work surrounded by beings who regarded her with suspicion, she might have said no. The Wakanrean who had interviewed her on Croyzan had seemed overly formal at first, but he had warmed up after a few minutes.

  “Most of us come for the money.” Erik sounded almost bitter. “It’s not like Wakanreo is a draw in the accounting universe, I can tell you.”

  “Arliana told me she got a big bonus for signing a two-year contract.”

  He nodded. “Me, too, of course. I expect pretty much everyone on the Embassy staff got a bonus and a raise, except the Ambassador.”

  “Why not her, too?”

  His smile was just a tad supercilious. “You don’t follow politics on Terra, do you?”

  “No. I’ve never even been there.”

  “Neither have I, but I know what’s going on. Before she came here, Ambassador Inoue was the head of a huge Terran conglomerate—Mitsubishi-McNeil-Volkstag, I think it was. I’m sure her salary now is a fraction of what it was then.”

  “Then why would she take the job?” Dina glanced around the room at the shifting crowd. A few more Wakanreans had joined a cluster of people near the center of the room.

  “For the glory.” Erik snatched a pair of wine glasses off a servoid’s tray. “More wine?”

  All at once a wave of vertigo struck Dina. “No, thanks. I don’t think I should drink any more for a bit. I can feel that first glass all of a sudden.”

  “You can’t get a decent buzz from one glass of amber wine.” Erik tossed off half a glass in a single gulp.

  This flat dismissal annoyed Dina, but she let it pass. “What glory is Ambassador Inoue gaining on Wakanreo?”

  “Ah!” Erik stopped to survey the room. “She hasn’t gained it yet, but if she can persuade Wakanrean companies to license their chem tech, she’ll go home with one hell of a trophy feather.”