Page 2 of The Pregnancy Pact
I supposed I could not fault my son for that, when I had also enjoyed a romp with a human from time to time.
The best place to find easy access to any females one desired was the pleasure planet, Drixus. Ruled by Masters who rivaled one another in providing the most beautiful females, the best gaming tables, and any and all pleasures in the universe, Drixus was a place of excess and sin. My late wife had loathed visiting there. It was not her idea of good entertainment. It was mine.
“Flight escort?”
The small female was half out my door but stopped, twisting to look back at me.
“Yes, Elder?”
Was that hopefulness in her double set of eyes?
Ignoring it, I said, “Send word to the captain. Never mind the Quarter Galaxy. Have him redirect the ship to Drixus, by order of Elder Pendorgrin. Tell him I will send an official message by textmail soon.”
I did not miss the way her features fell, nor did I care that I’d disappointed her.
“Drixus, sir?”
“You heard me correctly. Drixus. I’ve…business to attend to.”
Everyone knew the only business on Drixus was pleasure of whatever variety one might favor. Regardless, a lowly flight escort would not argue with me. Neither would the captain of this ship.
“Of course, sir. I will bring word immediately.”
With that she was gone, and I allowed myself to undress. Before climbing into bed, I typed out an official order to the ship’s captain concerning our direction change, and sent it via textmail. I then applied healing ointment to my sore jaw, which bore the mark of my daughter-in-law’s punch. For a moment, I gazed in the mirror, reliving the feeling of the human female striking me. I supposed I’d deserved it. However, the pain was temporary, as was the bruise. The healing cream I’d applied would erase any signs of it by tomorrow, as Drixus would temporarily erase my memories of this damned planet.
Climbing into bed, I closed my eyes and gave myself over to sleep. I would rest during the flight to the pleasure planet, replenishing my strength in anticipation of long nights at the gaming tables and scorching sessions with beautiful females. Of course, I needed to solve the question of an heir, but that could wait for a time. After all, I was still young—relatively—and had plenty of time before the stars called me on my final journey. Plenty of time to sire an heir. Possibly adopt one.
Let me find enjoyment before I have to go back to business.
Closing my eyes, I pushed all thoughts of my problems aside and slept.
Chapter 2
Lorelai Bristol
What sort of place is this?
It was all I could do to keep my lower lip from curling in disgust.
Maybe my life on Earth had been a little too sheltered, a little too boring. But I’d liked it that way. Really, I had. Being a stay-at-home mom while my ex-husband worked as a diplomat at the Citadel back on Earth…things had been nice and quiet and boring.
As boring as life could be when your home planet was going through upheaval after upheaval, being settled by alien Overlords, and reconstructed into a mold that fit their likes and needs. Throughout it all, we’d tried to keep our heads down, raise our two sons, and maintain a modest existence in our modest home right outside the Citadel’s walls.
Or, I thought dryly, lifting my glass of bubbling blitza, some kind of alien alcoholic drink, to my lips, that’s what I’d believed we were doing. In reality, I was the one at home keeping my head down, raising my sons, and maintaining a modest existence. My husband, Charlie, as one of the rare diplomats elected by our human community to negotiate and deal with the Overlords, was also running around behind my back, doing more schmoozing with the ladies than the aliens.
Following the Final War, human women outnumbered men by a pretty hefty margin, meaning there were lots of lonely females out there. I guess I’d been naive to think the father of my two kids and husband of twenty years would be faithful to me. Instead of gallantly meeting needs and providing male services for girls half my age.
Sighing, I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, then squeezed them shut as the blitza hit my guts, spreading through my veins like fire.
The drink looked like simple wine or champagne. A few bottles of the beverages had survived the Final War. Humans, in their ingenuity, had figured out pretty quickly how to replicate our parents’ alcoholic beverages. I’d sipped wine and champagne on the rare occasions I’d been invited to some function at the Citadel along with my husband. I could take it or leave it. I’d never consumed enough to affect me. This, however, was like liquid lava. After a couple of shots, I could feel my head thrumming. Even though it wasn’t something I was used to, it helped numb the pain.
Why did he do it? I wondered for the millionth time.
Why?
Clearly, you weren’t enough, my mind replied sadly, bitterly, as it had for the millionth time. Not young enough. Not pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Not smart enough. Not funny enough. Not wrinkle-free enough. Breasts not perky enough after breastfeeding two kids. You weren’t—
Stop!