Tellan: Brides of the Mylos Page 4

  “You finish your tea. I know where the bathroom is. I was just seeing what was in the bag,” he said, turning to take the supplies where they belonged. Laurel settled back into the sofa cushions and enjoyed her tea as the room settled back into a sense of normalcy about her.

  “Okay, but I get to put my own clothes away,” she called after him.

  “Agreed,” he called back.

  A man who helps around the house. I could get used to that, she thought. I certainly could. She finished her tea and stood up, happy to see her legs were sturdy beneath her. Satisfied that she wasn’t about to further embarrass herself, she crossed the width of the room to the kitchenette area. She frowned. “Where the hell is the sink?” she mused aloud.

  “No water for dishwashing,” came Tellan’s reply behind her, making her jump. “My apologies. It was not my intent to startle you.”

  “That’s okay. So, how do you clean the dishes?”

  Tellan took the mug from her hand and placed it in a receptacle in the front of a wall cabinet. He tapped the cabinet’s front and a series of symbols appeared on its surface, below the aperture. He tapped one of the symbols and stepped back. Laurel watched in amazement as a door slid over the opening. A nearly indiscernible hum sounded for mere moments, then the door slid open, back into the door pocket that held it. The cup was gone.

  “Did the cup get disintegrated?” she asked.

  “It and the organic particles still clinging to its surface were rendered back into their molecular components.” She stared at him. Sensing her confusion, he elaborated. “The replicator uses the molecules to make more food and utensils.”

  “I know people who would kill for one of those in their kitchen.”

  “Larger replicators can construct larger items. It is not just limited to food.”

  “You know, if you guys go to offer humans those, you best make sure no one can use it to make weapons or a virus or something, because trust me, there’s wankers out there that would genuinely kill to their hands on one of these and use it for just that.”

  “Noted.”

  “Good.” The words were punctuated by a large yawn. “Oh! Excuse me, I didn’t even realise I was going to do that.”

  “I brought out bedding for you. Let she show you how to work the shower controls. I will arrange the blankets and pillows while you bathe and change.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, turning to follow his already retreating form.

  Chapter Ten

  Laurel woke up to unfamiliar bird cries and the sight of a strange sun’s breaking dawn over an unknown sea. “What in the hell?” she muttered to herself. Not that it was an unpleasant way to awaken, in fact, it was much better than the sudden blaring of music from the digital radio alarm clock her mother had gifted her two Christmases ago. She yawned, then clambered out of bed to investigate the new view. As she stretched her arms over head, memory came flooding back. “Right, girl. You’re on a spaceship, you’re orbiting Earth, and the walls turn into view screens that either show the view we’d currently get if there were windows or a chosen image from their data banks.” She examined the view Tellan had chosen to display. It hadn’t been visible the afternoon and evening before, the walls in the sleeping alcove having been devoid of any kind of decoration. “Nice,” she mused aloud, deciding he must have this set up to greet him in the mornings.

  “Do you like it?” Tellan asked, standing in the open archway.

  “I do. Is it your home planet?”

  “It’s the world my father’s parents resided on when I was young. The view is from their apartment window.”

  Laurel canted her head almost imperceptibly, narrowing her eyes as she concentrated her gaze harder, taking in the finer details. Now that he had brought the vantage point to her attention, she spotted a sliver of curtain rustling along one edge as a gentle breeze danced in through an open window. She could just spy parts of the walls if she moved her head and body. “Oh my goodness! The view moves when you do, so it’s like actually like being there!”

  He smiled. “Yes, if you move closer, you can even get a sense of what one would have seen on the day this was taken, if they happened to stand right at the window and peer straight down.” Laurel stepped right up to the wall, feeling a bit foolish but determined to test it out. She was too close and a sigh of frustration escaped her. “Step back a half step, them lean in a bit, as if craning towards the window,” he suggested. She did so and her eyes widened in excitement.

  “Oh wow! I can see the edge of the cliff this is built on! There’s even someone walking a…that’s not a dog…I don’t know what that is. They have it on a lead, anyways.”

  “My father took this image as he watched his own father walk along the cliff. The animal you see is my grandfather’s klorvis. They are quite popular across Mylos.”

  She glanced over at him. “So, the home world of your species is called Mylos and you call your group of allied worlds Mylos as well,” she observed.

  “My species,” he murmured. “I suppose you could refer to us as that, though we differ greatly from the intelligent beings that originated upon the surface of Mylos so many aeons before.”

  “Because of genetic trade?” Laurel guessed.

  “Yes. As soon the Ancestors left the Mylos home world and encountered the very first compatible species, geneticists were quick to seize on the possibilities genetic trade could bring. The birth rate was most dire, fewer young surviving gestation and infancy. Those who did survive tended to be male, which in turn meant fewer females to bear more young. The resulting younglings from the interspecies matings proved to be stronger, though nearly always male. And only those who were perfectly matched as mates in all ways produced any surviving young.”

  “So your people kept, uh, finding mates among the new peoples you met, to increase chances of your own survival.”

  “While ensuring our culture and knowledge were not lost, yes. It’s a very basic explanation, but not entirely incorrect. We benefit in other ways, as well. The mothers of our offspring enrich our own culture with theirs, adding richness, and often the sharing of knowledge brings leaps to our technologies. Not to mention the invaluable sharing of resources, and so on.”

  “So, it’s the Federation, but with an official dating service arm,” she said, giving a small laugh. “I know, I know. We really need to sit you down with me and watch Star Trek, at the very least. Right, I fancy a shower and then some breakfast.”

  Tellan gave a small bow and backed out of the room. “I believe a popular breakfast among the people of your nation is something called the all day breakfast.”

  “Yes, but I couldn’t possibly eat anything that large this morning. Just a cheese and onion omelette with a slice of toast would do.”

  “And tea?”

  “And tea,” she affirmed. “With two sugars and a splash of milk.”

  “I shall inform the mess hall while you get ready for the day.” She gifted him with a beaming smile before turning to gather the clothes she would change into, then hurried into the bathroom. It was only as she finished stripping off that it occurred to her that his words indicated she had some sort of schedule before her for the day, other than getting to know her new husband and getting used to life on a spaceship, among aliens. Remembering the Prime Minister’s words regarding some kind of official political position, she grimaced.

  “Oh, poop. That wasn’t just a ceremonial pat on the head, was it?” she groused. She stepped into the shower, eyeing the controls, trying to remember the sequence he’d demonstrated. She sighed in relief as she felt the delicate sensation of tendrils stroking her skin as the sonic waves gently caressed the dirt from her skin. She closed her eyes as a gentle mist of enveloped her, smelling vaguely of citrus and mint, before quickly disappearing. A gentle warm breeze began to dance across her skin. “Man, I bet the kids would be fascinated by all this,” she thought, thinking of her niece and nephews. “Shit, I wonder what they said to my family. “
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  She stepped out of the shower, her skin already dry and her hair barely damp. She reached for one of the towels she found folded in an alcove. It was midway between the size of a hand towel and a standard sized bath towel back on Earth. More than adequate for wrapping around her hair to dry it, she decided, arranging it like a turban so that it could finish wicking the last of the moisture out of her hair. She quickly dressed and after sliding on her sandals, regarded herself in the mirror, one hand smoothing down the skirt of her wrap dress. “That’ll do,” she told herself before removing the towel and reaching towards the tray holding her hair products.

  She’d just finished grooming her hair and fastening her chosen head wrap when she heard a light tap on the door. “The cook says your omelette is ready,” she heard. I’ll just have to do my makeup after, she realised. “Coming, she replied, opening the door. Tellan stood before her, gazing at her in frank appreciation, his scale colour deepening and the texture blooming ever more prominently. She found herself preening a little. “Let’s go, handsome,” she said teasingly. He proffered his arm.

  “This way, then, milady,” he joked back. Laurel took his arm and let him him lead the way.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m sorry, what?” Laurel asked, certain she’d misheard. The breakfast she’d just eaten sat in her stomach like a lead balloon.

  “Your government and the government of the island nation of Jamaica have both claimed you as a figure of national pride and wish you to address the world. The United Nations Commission on the Status of Women are also adamant that you do so, both to satisfy them that you are not being forcibly coerced or abused in any way as well as to celebrate you being chosen as Earth’s first official Trade Emissary to the Mylos.”

  “And they’ve went ahead and scheduled this broadcast for right after breakfast? I don’t have anything prepared to say! I don’t even have on any makeup! You can’t ask me to just go barefaced and twitter on about nothing!”

  Tellan looked at her sympathetically. “I only discovered this had been arranged with all of the major planetary broadcasters while you were in the shower. They assumed they could schedule such a thing and just have us patch in as demanded.” Laurel pursed her lips, angry on behalf of both of them. She could see Tellan was feeling strain about the situation, as well,

  “They have some cheek!”

  “I suppose I am not as surprised as I could be after the way they handled the potential bride registrations,” he said, sounding morose.

  She reached across the table and patted his hand. “I understand now that you had no part in how that went down. I’m going to use this as an opportunity to put that to rights. When the P.M. took me aside, she let me believe if I didn’t marry you, your people would declare war and just take the brides they wanted by force.” Tellan looked horrified at the suggestion. “No, no, she didn’t say that precisely in so many words, but she let me draw that conclusion with my own wild imagination,” she hastened to reassure him.

  “The Mylos are indeed warriors, but only because we must protect ourselves from those who plunder our worlds and attack our ships,” Tellan protested.

  Laurel nodded. “I believe you. I will mention that as well, that you are a good man- male, she corrected herself, representing an honourable people we could learn much from.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “If this thing is happening right after we get back to your our quarters, practically, then we should get on back. I need to to finish getting ready by putting my glam on.”

  Tellan gathered their dishes and took them to the recycler. Turning around, he spotted Laurel waiting for him by the door, the eyes of the crew currently in the mess hall watching the pair of them speculatively. He strode over to join her. “Your sense of decisiveness will serve us both well.” She only hoped he was right. The Mylos might not attack, but one wrong move or some idiot getting some damned fool wrong idea might strike. Not necessarily at the Mylos, either.

  Once back in their quarters, she made quick work of cleaning her teeth and then putting on her makeup. Once finished, she gave her head wrap a quick glance to make certain it was still properly in place. She decided a pair of gold hoop earrings and a gold bracelet were in order, returning to the sleeping area to choose from her jewelry box. After fastening the hoops ther ears and readjusting her head wrap, she picked out a chunky gold bracelet, adding a selection of cloisonné, gold, and silver bangles to wear above it. At the last minute, she fastened a necklace of chunky cloisonné and gold beads and polished agate and pieces of amber. Satisfied at last, she squared her shoulders. She was ready to take on the world. She gave a soft giggle as that was no figure of speech.

  “Ambassador Tellan, we have the broadcast connection request,” Laurel heard the ship’s A.I. say.

  “I’m ready,” she called out to Tellan. “Do you need to do anything?” she asked him as she stepped out into the main room.

  He shook his head. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he told her, his lips twisted into a faint, wry smile.

  “Same.” She sidled up next to him, standing close to him to present a united front. She felt him stiffen in reaction. A breath later, his arm snaked around her waist.

  “Open the channel, aft wall,” he ordered. Laurel watched as a section of wall they faced coalesced into an image. Warmth suffused her as happiness ran through her veins at the sight of her family staring back at her, from her mother’s living room the screen split into thirds, with the other half of the screen area divided into two, Prime Minister Simms at the top and Prime Minister Campbell at the bottom. Simms sat behind her desk, Laurel recognising the office at Number 10 from numerous photographs shared via news outlets. Campbell sat in a chair in front of a group of primary school aged children.

  “Hello, Ambassador Telex and Trade Emissary, er, Telex. It is wonderful to see you.”

  “Tellan,” Laurel emphasised, “and I are both happy to greet all the people of Earth today, both in our official capacity and personally. I see my students are all watching,” she said, smiling and giving a wave,.

  “Hi, Aunt Laurel!” Charlotte called out.

  “Hello, Charlotte,” she replied. “I thought I spotted you sitting there.” Low laughter sounded from the rest of the family. “I also see some other, bright, young, eager faces on my screen, sitting with Prime Minister Campbell. Hello, children!”

  “Hello, Trade Emissary Tellan and Ambassador Tellan,” the children chorused. Laurel wondered how many times that morning the children had been made to rehearse that while they waited to go live.

  “All the children of Jamaica are watching. In fact, all of Jamaica are!” Campbell told her.

  “All eyes are on you, here in the UK and around the world,” Simms interjected. Laurel inwardly winced at Simm’s apparent need to keep a scorecard.

  The A.I. spoke once more. “We have an additional feed request for an open screen from the United Nations.”

  “Open beside this one, if you can, please,” Laurel replied. “Are there any other requests?”

  “There are many,” came the reply. Tellan glanced down at his kunnarskyn as it indicated a message. The A.I. had sent a number. He turned his head and whispered the figure into her ear. Laurel’s eyes widened. She whispered back, “Can we please open to at least one classroom in each country sending a requesting? I know it’s more than can fit on the wall, but maybe shrink them down and put some on the sidewalls within vision range without us having to turn around?”

  He tapped his kunnarskyn, sending that instruction. Laurel was grateful to feel his arm go back about her waist, steadying her as the walls came to life with the faces of thousands of children. Many of the children were in auditoriums, some with what appeared to be their parents also present for the event. The historical significance came into full focus and she had to fight the urge to flee. She felt Tellan use his fingers to gently stroke her waist and once more found her nerve. She wasn’t alone in this. Tellan was with her, now and forever. They had t
his.

  “People of Earth,” she began. “I am Laurel Chin, from Birmingham, England, and until yesterday, I worked as a waitress at my family’s restaurant in Chinatown. As you can no doubt hear from my accent and guess from my complexion, I’m of Jamaican descent, my mum and dad having come over from Jamaica in 1972. It was a huge surprise to come home from Sunday dinner at me mum’s and find the PM, a lot of police, and an alien all waiting for me at my flat, let me tell you! This is the alien I met, right here, Ambassador Tellan. He’s from a race known as the Mylos. You’ve probably heard a little bit about them and all, but we’re going to share a bit more about them in just a moment.”

  Tellan gave a large smile in greeting. “I’d like to extend the greetings of the Mylos government to all of the people of Earth. You have a beautiful planet and I have been enchanted by the variety and vibrancy of the many cultures your world has. I have been to several worlds, but none have have held onto my heart the way yours has. In fact, I find I have permanently lost my heart and soul to one very specific piece of it” he said, looking at Laurel with affection. She reached the hand between them to grasp the hand he held at her waist, her arm resting across her stomach.

  “I was sceptical,” she said, “but it’s true. In fact, I have a story to tell you. It’s about a far off kingdom that had only princes, a country with a lot of princesses, and a trickster queen and her naughty advisors. Once upon a time...” As Laurel wove the tale of the world leaders’ deceit, casting Simms as the queen, she felt great satisfaction watching them al squirm as everyone else listened, enraptured.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tellan was proud of his mate. She had deftly handled the machinations of the human government bodies, ensuring their trickery had come to light while also portraying the Mylos as having been as unfairly manipulated as the human women taking the so-called quiz. The world press and something they called the internet were ablaze with the revelations. When Laurel had announced that each country was to build a Mylos Bride Registry office and that each one would count as being on Mylos owned soil, world leaders had seized the opportunity to save face. Most of them had, anyway. Tellan had not been surprised to find there were holdouts, a few of which accused the Mylos and various member states of the U.N. as having plans of invasion and world domination.