Taken by the Aliens Read online

  His second plan was to offer the man in question a much greater sum of money than BKG. He felt certain the secondary plan would work, so he was relaxed, if curious, as he listened to Marmeth’s very strange mistranslations of Mina’s speeches.

  It was his turn to speak. He moved quickly through his arguments against development and noted with both admiration and frustration that the Human seemed to be confused—she had clearly expected a bigger fight about those issues and was now regarding him suspiciously.

  Clever. She was more clever than most.

  “…these considerations, however, I realize, my most esteemed and revered representatives, do not constitute a sufficient reason for the private entity leasing his land to refrain from doing so, as my concerns, and the concerns of those who live in Old Celox, are not his. I therefore propose to purchase the land outright from Naphthalene Huragka. My initial bid, transmitting now to Sag Huragka, is double the amount offered by BKG.”

  Mozok thought he detected a smile on Marmeth’s lips, but the man translated Mozok’s words faithfully. Mozok watched Mina Groza’s reaction.

  She was formidable, he thought, and the thought gave him another flutter of pleasure, which he tried to dismiss.

  Marmeth tipped his head toward Mina and smiled as she spoke.

  “BKG will meet any offer made by Sag Osolin, or any other investor,” Marmeth stated, faithfully translating what Mina had said to them.

  But then he added, “Ms. Groza encourages Sag Huragka to consider that BKG will paying this amount for a lease with a legally binding termination date, while Sag Osolin will be purchasing the land outright.”

  Mozok smiled and spoke up. “I am willing to lease the land as well.” The lease length, as determined by law, was for a set amount of time, 100 Astrogodan solar years. It would be experienced as half that time on Earth, but in 100 Astrogodan years, much could—and likely would—change. He doubted that BKG would want to continually do financial battle with him again at the end of the lease.

  “What… what? What did he say?” Mina said to Marmeth, who held up a hand to indicate that she should wait. Mozok appreciated that she was becoming suspicious of Marmeth, and at least knew enough to see that something was going on below the surface.

  Marmeth leaned in to speak to Mina quietly in her ear.

  Mozok tended to have bursts of creative energy, the rapid development of big ideas in his mind. It was a talent that had made him wealthy. He had such a moment as he watched Marmeth speaking to Mina.

  He could not know Marmeth’s intentions, so he had no way of knowing what the man was trying to do with his incomplete translations and additions to Mina’s words. Battling against Marmeth was like stumbling around in the dark.

  However, it occurred to him that he could propose something that was in accordance with local customs and regulations, and which was so big, so wild, and would require such documentation that Marmeth would be unable to scramble it, whatever his intentions.

  And it was certain to cause BKG’s bid to fail, either because Mina Groza would refuse the terms and conditions, or because she would fail in trying to comply with them.

  Either way, by Mozok’s estimation, it would get him out of this escalating bidding war, and there was nothing Marmeth or parliament could really do about it.

  He looked back at Voso and gave him a semi-apologetic look, for this decision concerned Voso as well.

  No matter. Voso was fiercely loyal and would never disagree with him.

  Anyway, he had expressed interest in the Human, and the interest had seemed more carnal than intellectual. He would probably find the idea appealing.

  Not that the Human would likely be crazy enough to undertake it.

  Mozok turned back to parliament.

  “My esteemed and revered representatives,” he began, addressing parliament. “It appears that we have reached a monetary impasse, for BKG is willing to expend a great deal of capital to obtain rights to this land, as am I. As you are aware, our treaties require that any land disputes that cannot be resolved through an exchange of reasonable capital—a limit which has, it would seem, been reached by both parties—then the dispute shall be resolved by an honorable proposal.”

  He was pleased that his words had Marmeth knocked, temporarily, off his game.

  “I therefore propose,” Mozok continued, knowing that this madman ploy would come as a shock to all, for he had never employed anything like it. He waited as the room rippled with anticipation.

  “…Trothplight.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Mina indulged in a final vain checkup of her hair and stole a moment to moisturize her skin and add some color to it before recording her message to Paolo.

  She hated that she could not shake habits like those; she had no interest in Paolo, or for that matter, any stinking man, but old habits died hard.

  “Good news,” she said cheerfully, after turning on the recorder. “As you suspected, the trillionaire Draquun, that Osolin guy, put up quite a few obstacles. At one point I was sure he was going to outbid us. I’m… sending the details over to you, just waiting on an official translation from our liaison—who, I don’t mind telling you, is pretty—”

  Mina interrupted herself. Telling Paolo that Marmeth was a bad liaison would entail telling him why, and she really didn’t need that story getting back to anyone at BKG.

  “…uh, good. He’s fine,” she said instead. “But that will take a while, I guess, it has to go through their parliamentary legal… apparatus. Anyway. We reached a maximum capital exchange, like you expected, so a non-capital, uh… I don’t know, arrangement, has been proposed. It’s something called…” Mina looked down at her tablet to read her own notes. “Uh… Trothplight, is the best I can do pronouncing it. Marmeth has explained it to me, it involves an extended stay, sort of like a courting ritual I guess, with this Osolin character… um, here… to last the duration of a natural event.” She looked up at the screen, which only showed her her own self. The messages, transmitted through quantum technology, took several hours to manifest at BKG’s Astrogoda headquarters space station, near the outer edges of the system. “I wasn’t allowed any input into this choice, so they’ve picked this storm that’s coming. I have data on it… seems they can be anywhere from one day to several… years… long. The average is a month. At any rate, I’ve been assured by Marmeth that there’s no negotiation on that front, and this all squares with my cultural and legal training, so… anyway. If I comply with these Trothplight rules, which don’t seem too difficult, it’s just an elaborate courtship ritual that will slow us down, but hey, you told me do what’s necessary. And anyway, it won’t seem like much time to you. At any rate, this was the only way to get it done. So I’m doing it.” She stared at her own face. “That’s it, documents to follow. Make sure you address my compensation questions at the end.”

  She ended the message with a flick of her finger.

  She had asked Paolo for a greater share—not by much, but enough—of the profits, provided that she completed this task. She was doubting herself a little before sending the message, and she doubted herself more now.

  But she was the one who was possibly stuck on this planet, bored to tears, while this Trothplight nonsense happened.

  The only reason she felt badly for asking for the money was because, as Marmeth had explained to her, she would basically be on vacation until the storm ended. It was a win-win, he had explained, because she would have been stranded here on Astrogoda-9 for the duration of the storm anyway, if negotiations had continued, and the terms of Trothplight stipulated that she would be required to pass it at Sag Osolin’s residence.

  Which was, naturally, spectacular. Most appealing to her was the existence of a vast indoor park with a waterfall, something she wouldn’t have at the crappy hotel she would have been forced to stay at until the storm passed. Marmeth had assured her that it was a spectacular residence, and it beat a cramped hotel room with no view except the violent storm. It was also safe, which she appreciated. These storms, she was discovering, were no joke.

  Anyway. It was all a small price to pay for the returns, even if Marmeth didn’t approve her compensation proposal. She would already make a much-needed commission on the deal, and it was enough money to get her family off the Iortekh Moon Colony. Which was all that mattered to her.

  No matter how long this Trothplight turned out to be, no matter how boring it was, no matter how insistent Mozok’s overtures, she was going to get out of here with a small fortune.

  She evaporated her screen and sighed. These Astrogodans were a really weird bunch.

  But she was tenacious, and they had underestimated her willingness to stick it out to the end. They had likely underestimated her personal need to complete this deal and obtain the commission. It really didn’t matter to her if she had to endure some strange alien cultural ritual. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  Anyway, as Marmeth had pointed out: she was probably stuck here for the duration of the storm. It was going to be uncomfortable either way; at least this way, she could get her much-needed commission.

  Any way you sliced it, Mina told herself reassuringly for the umpteenth time, there was no real choice. Not for her.

  * * *

  As the intersystem legal framework generally stipulated, the conditions of the contract were to be signed according to Astrogodan law and custom, which, translated to plain English, meant signing in blood. The parliamentary members seemed to think Mina would be especially bothered by this request, because they repeatedly showered her with formal questions about whether or not she was really willing to “sign” the contract.

  This was amusing to Mina, because they may not have realized it, but she did: there were an awful lot of civilizations that wanted blood to be involved in legal matters. She smiled politely and pricked her finger on a ceremonial artifact that, Marmeth confirmed, was sterilized. The “document” was made of what appeared to be the hide of some animal, but it was as dry and boring as any legal document on Earth when Marmeth translated it.

  She watched the wealthy Draquun, Mozok Osolin, with interest as he signed the document. She had researched him as extensively as she could prior to her departure, because it never hurt to know your enemy. Despite his stratospheric wealth, he was not an especially salient figure in Draquun records or media. The most she had been able to gather about him was that he was reclusive, honorable, tenacious, and as ruthless as the Astrogodan culture’s system of honor would allow. She never did get to the bottom of his opposition to the project but had decided on her own that he likely just didn’t like Humans.

  She could understand that, but she needed the money too much to take his side.

  He showed no emotion as he signed the document, and numerous exchanges took place between the Draquun parliament and Mozok. Marmeth had explained that the ceremony must take place in silence, except for those who were required to speak, and so he would be unable to translate every single word.

  When the Herstrakaa who had implemented her punishment stepped forward from behind Mozok to also sign the document, she wanted very much to ask why. Marmeth headed her off when she turned toward him, giving her a severe look.

  She would ask later. It unsettled her, and it seemed off, but she told herself it was likely a witness signature. He looked at her after signing, and his expression was disquieting. His eyes were large and the pupils consumed the yellow-green of his irises. Beneath his heavy brow, framed by thick eyelashes, they seemed to drill through her, reading more than just visual information. The memory of his hand on her bottom made her skin flare hot again. She was forced to look away, a flutter of cool, unrecognized emotion trilling in her chest.

  The verbal part of the ceremony seemed unnecessarily long, and it gave her plenty of time to become even more unsettled. Something about the transaction seemed off, though she couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly. Just as they concluded, she had a terrifying thought. Perhaps the Herstrakaa was signing as some kind of enforcer; that did seem to be his job. She might be spanked again.

  The thought made her anxious, but she couldn’t figure out if she was afraid of it or secretly thrilled. The ache between her legs returned, and she felt her underwear growing damp again.

  But no sooner had the ceremony concluded than things began to happen very fast, and her initial gut feeling turned out to be right—just vastly underestimated.

  * * *

  Mina’s face was red with anger, and so she was sure that the humiliation she was feeling would go unnoticed in the deep color that she could feel burning over her face and on the back of her neck. She was shaking with rage and tried hard to control it.

  “The what?!” she hissed at Marmeth, for the second time.

  “It is standard procedure,” he said calmly. “It is custom—”

  “Something you completely, and totally, failed to mention!” Mina shrieked. What else had Marmeth failed to mention?

  She felt like she was going to be sick or pass out.

  “Miss Groza. My deepest apologies,” Marmeth said insincerely. “You conveyed to me that you were well-versed in Astrogodan custom, and so I assumed that the finer details of the Trothplight contract were… at least known to you. Or inferred, at the very least, from the nature of the contract.”

  Rage boiled inside of Mina, and for a moment her vision became blurred. She had her mouth open to begin a takedown of Marmeth’s argument—his stupid, stupid argument—because she was certain she had told him that she had no knowledge whatsoever of Trothplight.

  But the realization was charging into her mind: it didn’t matter what she said or whether or not Marmeth had tricked her or not. It was all irrelevant. The deal was signed in blood, and she was trapped by a storm, and the law was the law.

  The parliament members had, to her surprise, returned to their seats at the end of the ceremony, and a pair of Herstrakaa had wheeled out an intricately carved table. It was really quite beautiful, made of wood—a rarity on Astrogoda—and blueish-green in color, with swirls of yellow that melted into the blue like spills of oil in water. However, the metal cuffs and chains attached to it implied a far darker purpose for the table, which was almost immediately revealed when a speaker announced something loudly.

  “The examination will begin now,” Marmeth translated, his tone as neutral as if he were inviting her over for tea. He gestured at the table. “You will remove your clothing and assumed the position for examination.”

  That had been several minutes ago, and her conversation with Marmeth was doing nothing to resolve the problem. The Draquun were getting agitated. Mina looked around again and despaired: she was trapped.

  She narrowed her eyes when she spoke to Marmeth. She wouldn’t threaten him because her threats would be, at least for the moment, utterly empty.

  But she would not forget this, and she wanted him to know it.

  “You will be punished if you do not comply immediately,” Marmeth told her helpfully.

  What a snake.

  Mina wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She tilted her chin up and turned toward the table.

  Even though there were more than forty male Draquun, and numerous Herstrakaa present, all of them watching her, she would have to endure this examination if she wanted to get through this ordeal. And she did. She had no choice. Whatever it meant.

  But she was not going to let them know that she had been tricked by Marmeth, and she was not going to give a single one of them the satisfaction of seeing her beat. Losing would be more humiliating—and problematic—than anything they could do to her.

  She carried her head high as she removed her own clothing. She even took the time to fold it neatly on the floor, even though the stares of the aliens surrounding her—and the obvious signs of their interest, like widening eyes and a purring sound—burned through her, making a cold, odd feeling crawl around in her chest again.

  She steeled herself inwardly and climbed onto the table. Two Herstrakaa, neither of them the very large male who had punished her, stepped forward and secured her wrists and ankles to the table in the metal restraints. They pulled them taut, forcing her legs apart slightly, and tugging her arms forward, which forced her into a partially bowed posture, like the prayer rituals of ancient Humans.

  She was grateful when one of the Herstrakaa placed a structure under her hips, allowing her to rest some of her weight on it. Even though this forced her bottom up higher into the air and exaggerated the submissiveness of her position, it was much less physically uncomfortable with it there.

  She stared at the wood table, not daring to turn her head, and unable to see what was going on around her. She could feel the slickness of her pussy, the flesh of which had begun to ache, and she focused her energy on thinking of something else—anything else—so that her body would cease its reaction. But it was to no avail. She couldn’t even pretend to think about anything else.

  She sensed the many Draquun behind her moving about, though they did so with their trademark stealthiness and quiet. The purring became louder.

  And then, very unexpectedly, the examination began. She felt a very cool, hard touch on her anus—no foreplay, no warning. She scarcely had time to think about what it was or contemplate that the “examination” would begin in such a way because the rough, warm skin of several Draquun hands was suddenly on her body, almost everywhere, simultaneously.

  Her first reaction was to open her mouth and begin to protest, but she cut herself off. What good would it do, except to show her weakness or ensure her loss? As two warm hands pried the cheeks of her ass apart, and the cold object, which she now recognized as metal, began to move in a circle around her eyelet, she realized that she could do nothing about her predicament. And she would have to just pretend it didn’t bother her. She couldn’t do anything about her skin growing hot with humiliation. But she could grin and bear it.