#alienfromsirius

"But Mother," Balem said, as he snuggled close, "When you get old can't we just give you a dose? Never will you need to give up your throne The title is still yours when I am all grown."

"My dear boy," Seraphi said, closing her eyes, "When you've lived as many millenia as I, You'll understand that all things come to an end And that's not always bad, if it's what you intend.

"I can think of no better successor there is Than my own first-born son; the 'verse will be his, To live as entitled, a glorious duty Experiencing every unique planet's beauty."

She ruffled his hair, and gave him a hug Fixed up his blankets and got him all snug. "Goodnight, my love," she said with a smile, Then left to allow him to sleep for a while.

But Balem wasn't tired, he wasn't too beat To sneak out of bed and search for a treat. The servants had left him alone in his room, But he knew where they kept desserts he could consume.

He slid on his slippers and peeked in the hall. Harvest Day sweets were his favorite of all, So he slipped to the kitchen, as quiet as can be To avoid running into the splice Chicanery.

Chicanery's mission was all too conspicuous: To not let the little boy act too ridiculous. Balem must act as becomes an Abrasax, Dignified and austere, never able to relax.

Though he wanted to meet all of his mother's wishes, Behaving was hard when surrounded by riches. Temptation was great for a fidgety boy Who would never be satisfied by just one toy.

Tonight Mother entertained rich trading partners Who'd benefit from the next day's planet of martyrs. She'd decided early to put him to sleep, To be sure he'd be hidden and not make a peep.

Balem knew this, but had such desire For Harvest Day sweets that he climbed ever higher Up to the top level of their big flagship Where the kitchen was hidden, better to equip

The waitstaff who brought laden trays to the table Where Seraphi Abrasax was easily able To charm the most obstinate Commonwealth Ministers Into getting stamps on all of the forms they administered.

The kitchen staff knew that he shouldn't be there But did not have the status to capture the heir And make him go back into the nursery No, that honor was reserved for Chicanery.

So the splices ignored him, continued their business As Balem snatched up cream puffs, not asking forgiveness. He tucked them into the folds of his clothes, Pockets and shirtsleeves, and some in his hose.

He started to hurry back out to the hall But was stopped by a glimpse of his mum standing tall At the head of the table, her dress shiny and green Looking every bit a great, beautiful queen.

As she stood there so lovely, his heart swelled with pride Distracting him so that she caught him, wide-eyed. Her lips twitched a little, her eyes narrowed a bit, And Balem took off running, lickety split.

He ran down the stairs without looking back, Startled by heels going clackety clack Following him down to the nursery deck Chicanery reached out and caught him by the neck.

"Now what are you up to," Chicanery said, "Causing a ruckus, and out of your bed?" Balem drew himself up to his full princely glory and said, "Mr. Night, come and tell me a story."

He strode back to his room like he'd done nothing wrong Mr. Night had no choice but to follow along. Balem climbed into bed and pulled up the covers; Chicanery twitched as he awkwardly hovered.

"My lord, I suspect you've been sneaking some sweets For I smell cream puffs or some other treats." "Mr. Night," the boy said in his haughtiest tone, "Your job is to do what I ask -- that alone.

"Now tell me a story, just as I asked. Tell me the one about my father's masque, And how he met my mother, dressed as a phoenix While his costume was that of a DNA helix."

"Very well, sir," Chicanery said with a sigh, And told him how his parents became allies. Abrasax and Sindar, the two great families Joined together thanks to a warm summer breeze.

When his tale was done he extinguished the light, And bade Balem an obsequious goodnight. And when the rat splice had left him alone there The cream puffs came out, just a bit worse for wear.

They still tasted delicious as Balem bit down, Sweet cream flavored with fruits from an exotic realm. He finished off every last sugary bite Then licking his lips settled in for the night.

The stars twinkled outside his room's biggest window, On his ceiling the digital nebula gently glowed. Tomorrow would bring lots of wonderful things, Parties and presents and splices with wings.

And so as he settled into his bed Balem closed his eyes and rested his head. His breathing slowed down as he nodded off, Then out in the hallway he heard a light cough.

Was Mother out there, watching his door? Mr. Night had gone off to his bed long before. The door opened up with the quietest swish, And in came Seraphi, just as he'd wished.

He pretended to sleep as if he was innocent, Though he knew as she'd stood at the table, magnificent She'd seen him sneaking her company's treats, Disobeying her wish for him to be asleep.

Abducted and taken to the Jupiter refinery, a woman from Earth negotiates with Lord Balem Abrasax to escape imminent death. Balem agrees to let her live —so long as she continues to amuse him—and to return her to Earth after a thousand and one nights…

She broke off from the others at her first chance, running around a corner, and hiding in an alcove of the enormous hall. The thudding footsteps and whir of machinery echoed all around as she tried to catch her breath, muscles tensed, crouching low to blend into the shadows.

Any moment the dinosaur men would come after her.

The air felt thicker, heavier than on Earth, burnt-orange light shining down through tall windows. Whatever this place was, it was huge as a gothic cathedral, everything carved of smooth strange stone.

Minutes passed and her heart gradually slowed its frantic pounding. It was possible she’d actually escaped them.

But where could she go?

It must all be a dream, she thought. She still couldn’t believe she had been abducted by aliens and taken to another planet.

It had started out a normal day, walking in the park, enjoying the summer flowers. For the first few seconds, she hadn’t noticed that she was floating, her feet gradually lifting up off the ground. A beam of blue light took her straight up into an invisible spaceship high above the clouds.

There had been other humans on board the ship, twenty or thirty of them huddling together, afraid. Two hulking, winged dinosaur men inspected them, one by one, before shooting each human in the neck with a substance that calmed them enough to stop questions and tears—and made them follow orders.

One of the aliens had come to her, sharp teeth and cold scaly hands, so close she wanted to scream. But in the moment he’d brought the instrument to her neck he was distracted and she shifted to avoid the shot. He didn’t seem to notice.

She’d followed their commands, first sitting silently, and then calmly walking once they had reached their destination.

She had tried to keep her eyes as vacant as the others—until she’d spied a chance to escape.

The problem was, now that she’d escaped them, she didn’t know what to do next, didn’t know where to go.

Hours later, desperate, she followed the scent of food to a luxurious bedroom hung with heavy velvet curtains, the windows looking out to a bright swirling storm. Her feet sank into the thick carpet as she crept to the far end of the room.

A table floated in mid-air before her, suspended on blue beams like the one that had lifted her from Earth, covered with platters of food.

She saw bizarre fish in glistening sauces, pyramids of odd fruit, delicate cakes built into tall towers, twists of golden bread, and vegetables carved into perfect pieces of art.

Maybe it was a trap, but she was too hungry to care anymore. She filled her hands with fruit and bread and hid behind one of the curtains to eat.

Moments later, someone entered the room.

“The Earth’s harvest should prove quite profitable, My Lord,” said a nasal voice.

“Yes. It is as I expected.” The other voice was raspy and low and she peeked from behind the curtain to see its owner.

He looked human, though he walked with a strange sinuous grace. Dark, swept-back hair and pale freckled skin, his torso was naked beneath a glittering black cape. He came closer and she saw that his feet were bare, his pants tight and low on his waist. The elaborate golden collar encircling his neck caught the light as he moved, and she wondered if the metal would be cold or warm to the touch.

There was something odd about the other man standing hunched a step behind—the ridges of his forehead and the reddened tip of his nose made him look inhuman.

“Your meal is here, My Lord, will you require anything else?”

“That will do. Leave me Mr. Night.”

“Certainly, Lord Balem.”

Lord Balem poured himself a glass of silver liquid and swallowed it down in one long drink. Ignoring the food, he turned from the table and sighed as he unclasped his cape and tossed it to the floor.

He leaned back against a pile of pillows on the bed, his arms and chest standing out pale against the black silk. His eyes were heavy lidded, half-closed.

If he went to sleep she’d have a chance to escape from behind the curtain.

He closed his eyes entirely, his legs falling out to the sides. Running a hand over the ridges of his abdominal muscles, he reached down and stroked his fingers over his crotch, before giving a squeeze to the hard flesh beneath.

She let out a small gasp of breath.

And he opened his eyes to look right at her.

“Come out from there so that I can see you,” he called in a whispery voice.

She stepped from behind the curtain and walked toward him. Maybe she could outrun him, but really she had no place to go. And at least he looked human.

“You would have died quickly and painlessly if you’d stayed with the others.” He shrugged, his expression cold, still lounging back on the bed. He’d moved his hand to his waist, his fingers still resting next to the prominent bulge in his pants. “It is nothing personal, merely business, but I am afraid I have no use for you now that we have finished with the extractions. It would be inefficient to restart the machines to drain one single specimen.”

He had planned to drain her of something?

“What kind of alien are you?” she asked. “Some sort of vampire?”

“No,” he scoffed. “I am pure human, of Royal linage. Though like a vampire, I am ancient beyond your comprehension.”

“If you have no use for me, why not return me to Earth?” she asked.

She watched his mouth as he smiled, his lips both soft and cruel, his eyes narrowed as he looked her over critically.

“You encountered my Sargorns aboard the ship that brought you here.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but she nodded hesitantly, remembering the dinosaur men.

“I’ve already promised you to them—a bit of live prey if you will. Most likely they are watching as we speak. They have an unfortunate tendency to play with their food.”

He moved from the bed to stand close, half a head taller, looking down his nose at her. She almost flinched as he reached to touch her cheek, but forced herself to stand still, determined he wouldn’t see her fear.

“How long did you imagine you could skulk there in hiding? Or were you planning to join me in bed and offer sexual favors? Beg me for your life perhaps? You are pretty in your way,” he said with a sneer. “I wouldn’t mind indulging you as a last request, as long as you do not fuss once I am finished.”

She was momentarily stunned into silence.

He was offering her a pity fuck before he let the Sargorns eat her?

She was honest enough to admit—to herself at least—that there was something beautiful about him. Sex would have been tempting under other circumstances, but she would hardly enjoy it knowing alien monsters would eat her right afterwards.

“I wasn’t planning to beg you for anything. ” She was shaking inside, but her voice sounded steady and strong. “If you’re a business man, then you should know you’re wasting a valuable resource by giving me to your Sargorns. I’m worth more than pet food.”

“Human life is cheap and I am a very wealthy,” he said the words tiredly, as if he were already bored by the conversation. “A women from an underdeveloped planet is worth almost nothing to me.”

He already planned to kill her; she may as well be blunt here.

“You might be wealthy and ancient, but you don’t seem particularly happy about it. Maybe you’re tired of living after so long. I think you’re bored. Why not try something different, a challenge?”

“Unless your anatomy is other than it appears, I doubt you would challenge me. ”

“I’m not talking sex. I have absolutely zero interest in doing that with you,” she lied. “I’ll entertain you in other ways. Give you something new to think about. I’ve spent years learning the histories and legends of my planet. I’ve memorized poems and I know works of literature by heart. I can tell you stories you’ve never heard before.”

“I am not a child,” he grumbled.

But there was something boyish about his face, as if he’d been somehow trapped in time—and his mouth was practically pouting at her. She ignored that thought for now though, and remembered a story, one she’d known from her own childhood.

The story of Scheherazade.

“Listen to my stories for a thousand nights and on the thousand and first night—if I haven’t entertained you—well, you can kill me then, if you still want to. If you’re as old as you say, the time will pass quickly for you.

“But if I do entertain you,“ she said, "you have to return me to Earth at the end of it. What do you have to lose?”

Most of her life had been spent with her nose in books, reading about other people’s lives and adventures, wishing she could have some of her own. She’d gotten more of an adventure here than she’d asked for—but maybe she could find a way to put all her reading to good use.

Balem stared at her for moment, his face inscrutable.

“Mr. Night!” he screamed.

She almost jumped at the sudden outburst. The other man came scurrying in instantly.

“Have her decontaminated and properly clothed, and see that she is aboard my ship when I return to Arbraxia.”

“Yes My Lord,” the man said, surprise in his voice. Or…not a man, she realized, looking at him more closely. Apparently, he was part rat.

*****

Abraxia was Balem Abrasax’s home world, his alcazar a castle built into the side of a mountain, surrounded by forests and lakes.

When the sun burned high overhead, the skies were red, and the air was too hot and bright to step outside the sanctuary of the castle. And so everyone slept their days away.

During the long nights, breezes blew cool from the forest, and everything was opened up to the starlit skies, the fresh air was scented by night-blooming roses that grew all around.

Soon her time with Balem settled into a pattern.

He left the castle on horseback every night to ride through the forest, then spent hours in meetings, immersed in his work. He would not summon her until late in the night.

Each moonrise, her chamber presence roused her from dreams that left her hot and confused and she soothed her mind by swimming in a pool on the terrace outside her chambers. The first hour after waking was hers alone, away from the onslaught of the rest of the castle.

She enjoyed the feel of her naked body pushing through water, her limbs propelling her, fast and confident and strong. The huge blue moon, its craters and peaks outlined in shadow, came slowly over the trees, until it hung in the sky overhead, almost close enough to touch.

The pool was her own private oasis, fed by a waterfall, always cold and fresh. No one disturbed her there.

After her swim, she’d pad wet and barefoot across the marble floors to where her chamber presence could instantly dry the water from her skin, style her hair and dress her in one of the gowns Balem had provided.

At first, she’d protested that the dresses were too elaborate—and too revealing. She was self-conscious about her body, about the abundance of rich foods she’d been eating, she wasn’t used to clothing that displayed her shape.

Balem had ordered the clothing removed immediately, with a bored comment about provincial attitudes toward nudity.

The next day, in its place, were gowns with fabric completely transparent, and bodices so low cut her breasts bounced and threatened to spill out the top if she didn’t walk slowly.  

She didn’t know why he’d done it. He barely looked at her, except at the strangest times. He’d made it clear that he was unimpressed by her. He only wanted to provoke her, upset her somehow. Tease her for being naïve and unsophisticated because she was from Earth.

So she vowed not to let him bother her. She walked proudly into his rooms, as if she didn’t feel completely naked, and stared him straight in the eye, daring him to say anything at all.

Balem was the first to look away.

She then sat calmly on the floating divan across from him, took a sip of honeyed wine and continued her story from the night before.

She’d proven that she was an excellent storyteller, keeping him enthralled with stories of ancient kings and battles fought hundreds of years before she was born- though Balem had been alive in those times, of course. She spun tales of knights and magicians, myths of enchanted animals and maidens in towers.

It turned out that Balem’s education had never included such stories; there hadn’t been time in his childhood for anything as frivolous as make-believe.

She came to his rooms each night, in the hours just before dawn and stopped her tale when the sun turned the horizon bright red. Her stories always left unfinished, so that he had to listen the next night if he wanted to hear the end.

That very first time, when she’d ended on a cliffhanger he’d sent her away angrily, almost sulking. But the next night, she’d found he was eager to listen to her stories again.

It didn’t happen often, but the quiet nights when the two of them were alone in his chambers were her favorites. Most often, though, he was surrounded by his retinue, an assortment of creepy, off-putting creatures that made her feel uneasy.

She felt herself growing closer to Balem, even though she didn’t want to like him. He was selfish and cruel. And she should look forward to the day she’d return to Earth.

One night, she overheard details of how the Abrasax family earned their wealth. She spent hours, pacing, tormented by the idea, frustrated there was nothing she could do, before storming into his rooms and throwing open the curtains, the bright light spilling down on Balem in his bed. She caught him unaware, and he rubbed at his eyes, his face still soft and vulnerable with sleep.

He promised her that the Earth would be safe for the rest of her lifetime, at least.

But she had yet to convince him what he was doing was wrong, that the lives of others were just as valuable as his own.

In spite of his wealth, his unswerving arrogance, she knew that Balem was unhappy. Lonely in spite of the fact that he was always surrounded by others. He was estranged from his siblings. Though he never spoke of Seraphi Abrasax, he must have been close to her before her death—the very sound of her name caused him pain.

He didn’t have any real friends as far as she could tell—though the rooms of the enormous alcazar were constantly filled people and creatures and androids of all sorts. Those that worked for him—most of whom he outright owned. Heads of government begging for Abrasax funds for their projects. Aristocrats, financiers and capitalists all seeking his advice. And always, there were the sycophants and hangers-on.

She didn’t understand why he hosted parties that he didn’t like, spent hours in meetings when the outcomes had been pre-determined by the algorithms of his AI, why he was always in the company of those he loathed. Except, that it was expected of him.  

More than one night he summoned her early, and she found him in the middle of an orgy, sometimes with half-animal creatures, other times with men and woman dressed in spiked leather, hooked into contraptions that made everything an incomprehensible tangle of moving limbs.

But somehow she could always recognize Balem, pick him out in the middle of it all. He paused to look at her across the room, smiled and mockingly invited her to join them. When she declined, he insisted she stay to tell him his nightly tale once he was done—challenging her to watch, so she might learn something new.

It disturbed her. The snake splices with their forked tongues, the sharp-clawed beasts that inevitably drew blood in spite their bondage. The flagellations and screams and the determined look in the participants’ eyes.

But she couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from him. Fascinated by the thrust of his hips and ass, the way his hair fell messy over his eyes and the freckles stood out on his face. It was almost like he was performing for her, which was ridiculous, of course—except for the fact that his eyes kept meeting hers.

Her face was hot and flushed, and her breath came fast. She didn’t want to be any part of that—except she did wish the fingers that bruised his pale skin, the lips that closed around his cock, could be her own.

She had to remind herself that he wasn’t really interested in her. She couldn’t let him know he’d gotten under her skin. He’d hinted more than once that he might not return her to Earth, that he would find a way to go back on their agreement.

She sometimes wondered if, in the end, he would give her to his Sargorns after all.

*****

On the thousand and first night Balem found her swimming alone in the pool and he shed his clothing to dive into the water and join her.

Warily, she watched him swim to her. He stood, water falling from his hair, tangling in his eyelashes as it dripped down his face. He came at her, his mouth cold, his lips delicious on hers, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her shoulders to pull her against him, her nipples aching and hard on his chest.

It was only when she felt the press of his penis, stiff against her hip that she realized it wasn’t another one of her dreams.

She pushed away from him, panting.

“So we’re going to do this after all?” she said, “Just before you feed me to your Sargons, I suppose.”

“No,” he said, angry. “I am going to have a drink. I came here to ask you to join me. I find the company of others tedious right now.”

He turned to climb out of the water and she followed him to where a bottle sat on a table next to the lounge. She resisted the urge to cover herself up, or to stare at his naked body. She’d seen him so many times before, memorized every muscle and line of his body—he had a staring role every night in her dreams. And if they were going to do this, she wanted to try and keep her cool at least a little.

“You forgot glasses to drink it from,” she said, expecting him to call for one of his servitants.

“Did I?” he held the bottle out to her and lifted an eyebrow.

She took it, and had a long swig of the cool silver liquid straight from the bottle. It burned sweet and thick down her throat before settling in her belly. She handed it back, expecting him to drink. Instead he looked at her and smiled in a way that made her nervous.

“Lie down on your stomach for me.” The sandpaper rasp of his voice brought goose bumps to her wet skin.

“Okay.”

She lie down on the thick cushions of the lounge, fabric still warm from the sun, turned her head to watch as he came forward to sit down. He poured the liquid into the small of her back and drank it from her, his mouth moving against her skin, put his hand over her shoulder blades and pressed her down hard so that she couldn’t move.

“You don’t have to hold me down,” she said. “I want to do this.”

“I want to hold you down.”

That gave her pause.

“I’ve seen your idea of sex,” she said slowly. “If that’s what you want… Well, you were right, I don’t have any unusual anatomy. I don’t know what you’re expecting here.”

He loosened his pressure on her shoulders, reached his hand around to cup her mons, his penis pressed against her butt and she felt that the tip of it was already slick.

“This is what I expect,” he said in a whisper.

She remembered the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of someone else as he stared into her eyes. But she hadn’t figured out how to be disgusted by him. Instead she could feel the flesh between her own legs swelling, becoming tender and full and wet for him.

He moved to settle between her legs, pushing inside of her. He fucked her hard and fast from behind, grabbing her ass and holding her down with the press of his weight. She wasn’t surprised that he was quick and selfish about it—or that she came in spite of that.

He rolled to lie beside her when he was finished and she turned to look at him.

“That was actually kind of normal,” she said. She wanted to sound cool, but her voice was a little more breathy than she would have liked.

“You think that you are strong, trying to defy me, bargaining for your survival,” he said. “But you know so little of how the universe works, about the cruel facts of this existence. I could teach you. Nothing is new to me; there is no act I have not done a thousand times. Every pleasure becomes routine.”

“Then what happens now?” she asked.

“I have enjoyed finding ways to shock you, but you are becoming more and more difficult to surprise. ”

“You could try being nice to me,” she said, reached her hand out to place it on his chest, “that would be a surprise.”

“I could marry you, have you bear my children. That would surprise a great many people.”

“Well, there you go. That is surprising,” she said. Surreptitiously, she pinched herself, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

He stared at her, silent.

“I don’t want to return to Earth,” she admitted. “I’d rather stay with you. But there’s the danger that you’ll just be bored again after a while. I think we need another challenge. A thousand and one nights more nights—but this time we’ll trade off.”

“You want me to tell you stories?”

“No, I want you to show me what you know, maybe some of those things that you’ve done a thousand times, some other planets, the cruel facts of existence as you called them. See if once I’ve learned more about your world I turn out just as evil as you.”

“That is what you want?”

“No, that’s your challenge. Mine’s to see if I can convince you to be good instead.”

“It is not likely to work out in your favor.”