

I Married an Alien

By Emma Daniels And Ethan Somerville

Copyright 2011 Emma Daniels And Ethan Somerville

Smashwords Edition
Prologue

The end of the twenty-second century saw one planet suffocating from the noxious fumes its inhabitants had been pumping into the atmosphere for hundreds of years. It also saw another planet, a sister planet on the other side of the galaxy, succumbing to a different, but no less terrible fate.

The occupants of this particular world were slowly becoming sterile. There were no longer enough people to grow and harvest the oil-producing plants that kept the atmosphere thick enough to protect the ground from the scorching rays of its enormous red sun.

A chance meeting between these two surprisingly similar races resulted in two-way missions to discover if these worlds could benefit one another. Each discovered they had something to gain from the other, but as was often the case with such negotiations, they also had something to lose.

The overpopulated world, dying from the poisons in its atmosphere, discovered the oil-producing plants, which could only grow on the other planet, were exactly what they were looking for. They were a clean, efficient and above all, a highly renewable energy source.

Unfortunately this planet would lose women of child-bearing age. Through a romance that developed between two members of the races, a child was born to the couple, the first child the other world had seen in over a decade.

After months of intergalactic negotiations between the planets, a treaty was finally drawn up: in exchange for the oil, all young women had to take a tour of duty before their thirtieth birthday, just like their men had to take up arms whenever war broke out. The various governments thought this a small price to pay, since their planet was already over-populated and the other in dire need of habitation.

You might be wondering how a woman from the twenty-first century knows all this. Well, I took a trip into the future.

The Treaty of 2312, between Earth and Terron, had been enshrined in law for exactly one hundred years when I arrived in the future.
Chapter One

When my mother died, I realized just how little I had done with my life. I was almost fifty years old, and had spent the past four years nursing her because of her refusal to enter a nursing home. I'd given up my job to look after her; no great hardship, since for twenty years I'd been little more than a data entry operator for a faceless bureaucratic organization.

So when she died, I found myself rudderless. Suddenly I had lost my purpose. All I could think about was that I was almost fifty with so little to show for it. Some would say it was grief that made me feel so lost and alone, but I honestly didn't miss my mother. She had become so cantankerous in her dementia that I had really begun to dislike her. Not only did she forget who I was, but she treated me like a servant. I was actually relieved when she forgot how to talk.

After her funeral I spent months rattling around alone in the old sandstone house at Wentworth Falls, once again free to read all the novels my mother couldn't stand seeing me with; the science fiction and fantasy books my father and I had so loved. He'd died of a massive heart attack when I was thirty-five. I think I mourned his loss more than the death of my mother. Dad and I had been very close.

Because of this aimlessness I decided to volunteer for an experiment I saw advertized in a science magazine I purchased one day at my local newsstand. Why I picked it up, I will never know, since science had never been one of my strong points at school. But when I began flicking through it, the pages fell open at the advert that changed my life.

What do I have to lose? I thought as I packed myself up, and drove the hundred-odd kilometers down to the University of New South Wales where the briefing was to take place. I booked myself into a cheap hotel in Kensington, something else I had never done before, and went to bed listening to unfamiliar traffic noise that kept me awake for hours, because I felt so anxious and ill at ease in my strange new surroundings. After hardly leaving that old mountain home for years, I wasn't used to strange places or people. I almost got up and went home. But then I reminded myself that nothing was left for there, nothing save a silent, empty house.

Besides, they had already accepted me, at least for the initial briefing. The least I could do was give it a go. So with trepidation sitting heavily in my stomach, (or was it the greasy bacon and egg breakfast I'd eaten?) I drove to the university, where I finally found a parking spot on High Street. Not used to long walks, I was soon feeling quite hot and bothered from the March sun burning down on me.

Finding my way through the maze of buildings to the right science block proved even more trying. After stopping and asking directions from several young students to Professor Leon Jackson's office, I finally found myself riding a lift down to the lower basement in the bowels of some massive building I doubted I'd ever be able to find again without a GPS. Then I had to wander through a truly frightening labyrinth of subterranean corridors before arriving at the mysterious Department of Experimental Temporal Physics.

I ended up in a dimly lit chamber filled with about a dozen people of various ages; one or two attractive young students like the ones I had seen outside, a couple of Westie types with two day stubble, shorts and rubber thongs, a businessman, and a white-haired fellow who looked too feeble to hold himself upright. I was the only middle aged woman.

I won't bore you with the finer details of that day. But suffice to say, the good professor only arrived after we had filled in a ten page form about ourselves and answered a detailed psychological questionnaire that took over half an hour to complete. During that time, one of the students got up and stalked out, announcing that she wasn't giving away her sexual preferences to anyone.

Since I had never had sex, or even a boyfriend, I wasn't even sure how to answer that particular question. What possible relevance could it have to the experiment anyway? I had long ago given up wondering about such things. I'd gone to an all-girls school, and then dived straight into the typing pool, missing out on the whole dating scene. From my colleagues I heard snippets of information, and even read the odd romance novel, but the concept of swooning into the arms of some macho male chauvinist just made me cross.

Besides, my mother had made it pretty clear that I would never attract a man. Even though Dad told me not to listen to her, insisting he loved me no matter what I looked like, deep down I knew she was right; I was plain and dowdy, and no amount of make-up would ever change that fact.

Professor Jackson was a tall, exceedingly thin man with a pointy grey beard that made his long face look even longer. His white lab coat was no longer white, with sweat stains under the armpits, and other odd-colored stains I didn't want to determine the origin of. But when he smiled, his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. I could tell he was totally enamored with his pet project.

As we gathered around a big square table, he explained what he and his team had achieved so far. He told us that previous participants in this study had caught glimpses of nuclear wars, flashes of decimated cities, technology so advanced no one could figure out how it functioned, and barren landscapes totally devoid of vegetation. Those visions only lasted a few seconds, he told us, sounding rather perturbed, but they had been enough to cause some of the participants a great deal of distress.

"If you think you can't handle it, now is the time to leave," continued the professor. "Even though we offer an excellent debriefing and counseling program, I want you to go with your gut instincts on this."

As he talked I became doubtful that the earlier volunteers really had seen the future, but more likely their own fears of the kind of devastation Humanity was capable of wrecking upon the planet.

A few minutes later he gathered up the forms we had competed, and bid us all farewell, telling us that in a few days' time his assistants would be in touch as to our suitability.

As I left I wondered if I really did want to be contacted. I'd thought there would be more to it than that, such as rigorous physicals, examinations, a spin in one of those astronaut centrifuges. Obviously, if I thought any kind of time travel was actually possible, I had watched one too many episodes of Dr Who!
Chapter Two

Jordan Demantena started walking back towards the homestead, continuing to check the sprinkler system on the way. The new crop of Hytana was coming along nicely; new buds shooting up from the rich red earth everywhere he looked.

Hytana were the oil bearing plants that had started the Terron Treaty, as it was known here, or the Treaty of 2312 as it was called on Earth. Jordan and his partner, Logan Latana, had been harvesting two crops of Hytana every cycle for twenty cycles, a job now performed by most Terron males.

It hadn't always been so. There had been other occupations in the old days, but Earth's ever increasing demand for the oil, and the relatively small population of Terrons, meant just about every able-bodied male was required to work on a Hytana plantation.

As for the women, there hadn't been a full-blooded Terron female born in a generation, hence the Treaty. But it seemed to Jordan that he wasn't going to benefit from it any more than Logan had. Gloomily he approached the grey-haired man sitting on the porch of their homestead. A long, low sprawling building, it had been built to withstand the long hot summers thanks to the bright red sun the planet orbited. Coupled with the red earth, it gave everything on the planet a reddish tinge. Not until the Hytana sprouted did massive carpets of color start spreading across the rolling hills of Terron.

The elderly man on the veranda held a glass half-full of a clear, crystalline liquid in one work-hardened hand. He nodded towards another tumbler on the table between the two lattice-work rocking chairs.

"Thanks." Jordan picked up the full glass and downed the scented water in one long, refreshing gulp. He wiped his hand across his mouth before setting the glass down. "Looks like every plant is shooting again. Another bumper crop this season," he remarked tonelessly.

Terron only had two seasons, a scorching hot summer, and a freezing cold winter, a fluctuating climate all Earthlings abhorred with a vengeance. They only came to Terron because of the Treaty, and then only for a few short days to fulfill their tour of duty.

"You can't go on like this, Jordan." Logan motioned him down into the other rocker. Jordan gratefully sank into it. He was weary to the bone, a sure sign he was close to suffering the same fate as Logan.

Even though Logan was only one Terron cycle older than Jordan, he looked like he had aged twenty in the last half-cycle, and now resembled a sixty-year old Earthling. Between the ages of twenty and fifty cycles, Terron men lost their libido while they searched for the woman that would return their virility. Men who found their life-mates could live to well over one hundred and fifty.

Jordan had given up years ago making the long journey to the Citadel to see if his life-partner would be on the next spaceship from Earth. Logan had continued right up until the Aging took hold, ever hopeful that he would find that one special woman who could bring back his libido and a longer life-span. Now he was unlikely to see his seventieth birthday. Nature was cruel that way.

"I don't think I have to," Jordan replied. "I've already made the call. Should I succumb to the Aging between now and then, the Administration will have men ready for the harvest."

Logan gave him a long hard look, his deep blue eyes narrowing. "Well, in that case I also made a call," he admitted. "I'm taking you to the Citadel in the morning. The sprinkler timers are set and the crops virtually grow themselves from now on. Neither of us are needed for the next few weeks... You have one more chance, my friend, and I won't see you suffer as I do."

Jordan frowned at his friend. "Why the hell did you go and do that for, you old fool? You know I gave up on all that nonsense years ago!" He raked agitated fingers through his long unruly hair. "I'm not going," he asserted.

Logan leant over and grabbed Jordan by his shoulders. "Oh yes you are, because it's my birthday present to you."

'I don't want a birthday present," Jordan grumbled, refusing to look at his friend. He had seen it too many times; men turned weak with desire as the potent hormones surged through their bodies. They left to marry their new partners without bothering to acknowledge the friends and family left behind. This was one of the main reasons Jordan had settled out here so far from civilization, a place where he could do his job and tend for his ailing friend at the same time without any distractions.

Jordan took a deep breath. "Very well, just say it does work. I could never turn my back on you."

"Then I'll be happy for you. You know even after a hundred years of the Treaty our numbers are still too low to sustain us without assistance from Earth."

"Perhaps it's because those petite little Earth women aren't really meant for us... I can't even remember all the stuff I learnt at the Academy. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt one of them."

"I know you, Jordan. You don't even like getting into fights with men. You could never hurt a woman."

Jordan shook his head in frustration. "Not intentionally, but with those rampant hormones running through my system I just might... I remember what it was like when we were teenagers... Just as well we still had some of our own women. Back then it was only for pleasure, never to create the next generation."

"From what I've heard these new Earth women are quite experienced in the matters of–"

"With men of their own race," Jordan cut in, "not of ours." He heaved a weary sigh. "We may be similar genetically, but we are still different. I appreciate what you're trying to do, Logan, but it probably won't work anyhow. It never has before... Perhaps, like you I'm destined to–"

"Don't even think that!" Logan took Jordan's hands this time. "We're going, and that's that. I've even packed your wedding suit, as well as the notes we received at the Academy, so you can read up on them along the way."

Jordan pulled a disgusted face. "That embarrassing outfit?" he snorted. "How did you even know where to look for it?"

Logan grinned, the lines in his face deepening even further. Six months ago he hadn't possessed a single mark on his ruggedly handsome visage. "The deepest, darkest recesses of your closet, of course," he sniggered.

Logan scrambled unsteadily to his feet, the action ramming home just how feeble the once robust man had become. Logan had once been packed hard with muscle, but now his clothes hang on his thin frame. Like Jordan, he preferred the traditional Terron garb; cool flowing white shirts and billowy trousers that helped protect them against the hot sun. Outside in the heat, they also wore broad-brimmed hats.

"Now I think it's time you had a shave." Logan motioned towards Jordan's bushy blonde beard. "I've forgotten what you look like beneath that forest. A nice trim wouldn't go astray either. Your hair looks as brittle and ragged as on old mop."

Jordan groaned. "Why bother?" And then something occurred to him. "Look, if it's a holiday you want, why not just say so? We could go to the coast, enjoy the soft sand and soothing ocean instead of battling the city crowds."

Logan wagged a bony finger in his face. "Ah, ah, ah. The Aged One has spoken. I'm in charge of this mission."

"More like tour de farce, to coin an Earth term," Jordan muttered, knowing they had adopted far too many Human phrases and customs over the years. Even their first names were Earthean, simply because most Human woman couldn't pronounce their native ones. Their planet's name, Terron, had actually come from the original Taha'rana, which the lazy Humans had shorted to something more familiar to them.

Logan slapped Jordan on the back. "Go inside and have a shower. You reek of Hytana. Then I'll attack that forest."

"I can shave my own beard, thank you very much," Jordan grumbled, but preceded his friend into the house. He really did stink of plant oil. He didn't mind the smell, but Humans reckoned it reeked appallingly.
Chapter Three

"Ready?" asked Professor Jackson.

"As I'll ever be," I replied as I took my place in the spindly office chair inside the glass cubicle. It rocked precariously under my weight, and I gripped the sides with both hands. I could think of nothing more embarrassing than destroying the furniture and forfeiting my only chance at glimpsing the future.

The professor stepped in after me and the space shrank alarmingly, particularly when the stale reek of his sweat followed him inside. He was obviously too busy inventing to take a shower, I thought, as I tried to breathe through my mouth.

"You'll need to wear this protective eyewear," the unwashed scientist told me as he handed me a pair of rubber-rimmed spectacles. I put them on and as he tightened them they hugged my face like a pair of swimming goggles. A curly electrical cable ran from one side of these highly unfashionable glasses down across the floor and out through a reinforced hole in the glass, to the computer console outside. They were already uncomfortable, but at least I could rip them off if I had to. I blinked and tried to focus through them, realizing they had been tinted pink.

"Well, this gives a whole new meaning to the phrase looking at the world through rose colored glasses," I couldn't help imparting.

"They all say that when they first put them on," Jackson declared. "I just thought that color would be calming, since some of the things people have seen have been pretty horrific."

"Don't worry," I replied. "There isn't much that can faze me. I've seen just about every doomsday movie that's ever been made." Why those End of the World movies so fascinated me I'll never know, but I'd watched my favorites many times over during those long, lonely months I'd sat at home waiting for my mother to die. I know that sounds awful, but in the end that was exactly how it had felt, as she lay there day in and day out with no change in her condition. Until one night she must have decided enough was enough, and she simply stopped breathing. Finding her dead the next morning had still made me feel sick to my stomach, even though I'd been expecting it. I guess no one knows how they will react until it actually happens to them.

"One of the reasons we chose you, Ruth Clarke," the professor replied with a snort, nearly gassing me with the aromatic aroma of last night's garlic feast. I gagged, almost adding another stain to his grubby lab coat. "But watching it and living through it are two entirely different things," he reminded me.

"Have you actually used this contraption yourself?" I felt compelled to ask.

"Of course, but for some reason I always see exactly the same thing." He sounded disappointed.

"Which is?" I prompted.

He waggled a long bony digit in front of my face. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Now I just need to attach a couple of small probes to your temples so that we can read your brainwaves and record what you see."

That might make ripping the whole thing off a tad more difficult, but not impossible.

Once he had glued two pads to my head, he finally backed himself and his aromatic body odors out of the cubicle. I took a deep breath, glad I could at last breathe through my nose again. All that shallow breathing had been making me feel rather light-headed.

"I'm going to take you further than anyone else has ever gone before," the prof called through the speakers above my head. I watched him position himself in front of the keyboard. It looked a bit like a TARDIS console, with all those levers, switches and cables hanging above it. I hoped that dangerous-looking lash-up would hold together. Jackson gave me a yellow-toothed grin of anticipation and I shuddered. With a bit of luck, I'd soon be looking at my own interpretation of the future.

With ample time to ponder over the two days it had taken for his team to get back to me after the briefing, I decided this aging geek had to be a charlatan, or at the very best, someone so obsessed with his project he'd make up everything to get the results he longed for. After all, if he truly was a crackpot, he wouldn't be working for the University of New South Wales. He'd be skulking in a basement somewhere with his giant super-computer and Tesla coils. I wondered how he'd managed to get the university to fund this experiment in the first place.

I didn't know much about how these things worked, but perhaps he was a good lecturer, and had simply been given free rein of this dingy basement to tinker in his spare time.

"How about three-hundred years?" He winked, looking smugly pleased with himself. "I've been doing some tinkering and upped the power, so there shouldn't be a problem pushing you that far."

"Sure, go right ahead." I started to drum my fingers against the underside of the chair's armrest. I encountered hardened chewing gum. Ugh, weren't uni students supposed to be more mature than school kids?

The goggles started to buzz as the mad scientist upped the power or whatever he was doing to align his machine with the future. His image began to blur and the pink glass darkened. Something was definitely happening to my vision, because colors began to swirl rather sickeningly in front of my eyes.

"See anything yet?" he asked through the loudspeakers.

"Nothing that makes any sense," I replied truthfully.

"That's just you traveling though time to reach your destination."

Yeah, right. More like you fiddling with the VR channel. But I didn't say anything else, as the colors continued to flash. I was starting to feel rather queasy.

"Almost there... Ah... twenty-three twelve," he announced proudly.

Almost on cue the swirling miasma cleared and I caught sight of bright sunlight filtering through a huge domed ceiling. I blinked rapidly, feeling like my head was about to explode. The pressure against my face was so intense, I was about to rip the goggles off when I felt my whole body flung backward.

Then I was falling, as though the floor had suddenly opened up beneath me.

The back of my head struck the ground hard, jerking my eyes open, once again revealing that domed, sun dappled roof. Suddenly a number of unfamiliar faces filled my vision, blocking out the sunlight. They all started talking at once, almost deafening me.

"Move aside. Move aside," boomed an authoritative voice, and the faces slipped back out of my line of sight. A fleshy, middle aged man appeared above me. "Are you all right Miss?" he asked, his brow creasing in concern.

No one had called me 'miss' in a long time. It had been 'ma'am' or 'madam' for as long as I could remember, and once even 'grandma'.

"Ah," I croaked. "I – I think so." That voice didn't sound like mine. I cleared my throat several times.

"You fainted by the looks of it," the genial man said. "Do you think you can get up yet?" He leaned forward and extended a hand. I saw he was wearing some sort of uniform, navy blue in color, with strange zigzag runes on the shoulders and an official-looking stylized symbol stamped onto the pockets, that looked like a mechanical bird, or spaceship in flight.

I nodded, for some reason not trusting myself to speak. I placed my hand in his, and he easily pulled my up from the floor. He was obviously stronger than he looked, because I was no lightweight, having put on more kilos than I cared to count in the years spent nursing my mother.

For a moment I swayed, my head once again spinning like it had a few moments earlier, as I tried to get used to being vertical again. The man steadied me with both his hands against my shoulders.

I blinked, trying to get my bearings, now that the world had righted itself. I found myself surrounded by a group of very attractive young women, all wearing beautiful flowing satiny gowns of various colors and styles that accentuated their slim but curvy bodies.

They all had lovely shiny hair, styled into various dos, and exquisite faces, not a single blemish marring their smooth skin. They represented a mixture of races. There was an Asiatic girl with shiny black hair all the way to her backside, a gorgeous African chick built like a sprinter, a sultry Latino or South American, and several fair skinned lasses from Celtic or Aryan backgrounds. I counted seven in total.

What on earth must they be thinking about me, a fat middle-aged frump in their midst? I wondered, as my gaze drifted further afield.

Across a wide expanse of tiles, I saw what looked like a loading dock leading to... what could only be described as a space ship.

Hey prof, I hope you're recording this, because you would absolutely adore this machine, I thought. It was as tall as a skyscraper, with giant thrusters that would put any twenty-first century rocket to shame. It gleamed golden under the midday sun, as it awaited a variety of goods that were being loaded into the enormous maw of its cargo bay. I blinked, realizing that the crew doing to loading weren't people, but robots. They had Humanoid torsos and large tank-treads to help them move around. They looked they could carry at least a ton each, and several between two.

I turned in the other direction, and saw the outline of a massive city, not dissimilar to a twenty-first century, but breaktakingly clean, no grey pallor of pollution clinging to the skyline. The sky-scrapers gleamed in the sun, more glass than concrete, or whatever doubled as building material in this century.

It was obvious I was at an air-port, or should I say space-port, and judging by the luggage crowded around the group I was with, we were either boarding or departing from that incredible space craft.

"Are you all right now, Anita?" asked the attractive red-haired woman standing closest to me.

She had to be addressing me because she was looking right at me, but my name was Ruth not Anita. I even looked like a Ruth, stocky, sturdy, a keg on legs, for want of a better description, but for some reason this pretty young thing thought I was someone called Anita.

It was then that I realized I wasn't meant to be experiencing the future, merely watching it. Heavens, had my brain only now caught up with me? Well, it certainly felt like I was smack bang in the middle of Professor Jackson's sci-fi movie right now. I could feel the cool draft from standing in such a wide open expanse. I could even smell the other girls' perfumes; a variety of floral scents accosting my sensitive nostrils all at once. And the middle-aged man still had one of his hands on my shoulder, since I could feel the pressure of it through my thin sleeve.

I glanced down at his fingers, and he quickly removed them. That was when I noticed that my arm was covered in blue satin, an arm that was slender, not one ounce of extra flesh on it whatsoever. I stretched it out in amazement. Where was the flabby wing I had started to develop? It looked... skinny! I continued to examine my body in complete and utter amazement, discovering that I was clad in blue satin from my shoulders to my shiny slippered feet. I hadn't been able to cram my plump hooves into a pair of pointy shoes like this in years. Around my waist I wore a gold-linked belt, a waist so slender that I had to actually bend past my ample bust to see it!

Oh, if only this really is my body and not just Professor Jackson's VR! I thought with sudden longing.

Automatically my hands went to my hair. I found numerous long tresses draping past my shoulders. I took hold of one, bringing it forward to reveal a beautiful lock of shiny blonde hair the color of sunflowers. I couldn't believe my eyes; I'd never bothered to dye my mousy brown hair in the past. When you were as plain as me, not even a good haircut made much of a difference.

If my body was now as slim as it looked, my hair a gorgeous long mane of blonde waves, then I had to assume I had a face on a par with those of the pretty young women crowded around me.

I couldn't help myself. I smiled. Thank you Professor Jackson. I think I'm really going to like this trip, for however long it might last. How it became so realistic I had no idea, but I suspected his tinkering with the machine must have sent everything into overdrive, sending my whole mind catapulting into future. I wondered what had happened to the poor woman I'd taken over. I hoped she was somewhere nice, not trapped in my old body, or even worse – dead!

"Okay, I think I might have hit my head a bit hard just then," I said, still not accustomed to the sweet melodic sound of my new voice. "I'm still feeling... a little out of it. What were we doing?"

The girls started talking all at once, but the official-looking man held up a hand, calling for silence. "If you can't remember that then maybe we should get you checked out for concussion. Does your head hurt?"

I turned it from side to side, watching more long golden waves of hair bob about my shoulders. I liked how full and bouncy they felt against my skin. "Er no, I've never felt better actually." Which was the honest truth. In my old body I had started developing some aches and pains in my joints, no doubt from all the extra weight I'd started carrying around, but right now I felt like I could turn cartwheels, something I hadn't been able to do since primary school.

"We were about to board the space transport to Terron, Anita. How could you possibly forget that?" asked my red-haired companion in amazement, her hazel eyes narrowing, and her pretty pink mouth puckering.

"Right Terron," I said. Another planet I presumed. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"You're cleared to board now, ladies," announced an older woman as she hurried towards us. She too was wearing a satiny gown that reached her ankles, but her hair was swept back into a conservative bun, and she didn't wear jewelry like the rest of the young women around me, just one gold cameo pin at the open vee of her dress. "Here are your passports back. Everything is in order."

She began handing them out. I found a small rectangle in my hands that lit up like an i-phone when I pressed my thumbs against it. My alter-ego's particulars appeared on the screen; a photo of an absolutely stunning young woman with huge blue eyes and a perfect cupid bow mouth. My jaw dropped in amazement, and again I wished that I really was her.

But there was a problem. The woman in the picture looked worried, the photographer having captured a very serious expression indeed. Beneath this was her name, Anita DeBurgh. Nice, I thought. Anita was twenty three, and a student of the University of Summerton, wherever that was. What Anita was studying wasn't mentioned, but it seemed that she and her companions were off on an excursion of some sort.

"Grab your bags, and let's go," called the older woman. A mad scramble ensured as the girls reached for their cases. When only one remained, I assumed it was Anita's, and went to grab the handle. It immediately stretched so that the large case could now trail behind me on some kind of air cushion, since I couldn't see any wheels. The darn thing was a nauseatingly bright pink, which meant that Anita was probably a rather vain creature. Most of the other girls had more subdued luggage, if you could call floral patterns and bright tartan reds subdued.

I trailed after the group as they approached the massive spaceship. A moving walkway had been set up to take us up to the passenger deck, and we all stepped on it to ascend up the side of the vessel.

We arrived at a lounge area that could have belonged to a five star hotel. It was obvious that we were taking our trip through space in first class luxury. Porters appeared out of the woodwork (or was it triple-reinforced titanium?) to relieve us of our luggage.

Then we were ushered to our seats, huge soft armchairs that could be titled right back into beds. Other passengers were already seated; probably about a hundred other men, women and children. My eyes were drawn to a couple of exceptionally tall, well-built men with beautiful bronze-colored skin. They all wore their hair long and falling over their shoulders in soft waves. None of them had the same color. As one of them glanced in our direction, I couldn't help staring, since I'd never seen a man quite so handsome in my life. He looked like he drank steroid milkshakes for breakfast; he had shoulders any footballer would be proud of. As for his face, it looked as though a sculptor had styled it, all sharp planes and angles and smoldering, deep set eyes. The only soft thing about him, it seemed, was his shiny black hair, falling in rippling waves down his broad back.

"Anita," urged one of my traveling companions. I realized I had fallen behind. I quickened my pace and took the seat indicated by the red-haired woman. "You mustn't stare at them. They really don't like it," she hissed at me.

"Well, he was looking at us," I pointed out.

"Heaven forbid if one of us ends up mated before we even leave Earth," muttered one of the other girls. It was the Asian woman. "I wonder what they're doing on Earth anyway, since they seem to hate coming here so much."

"Settle down girls," our matronly traveling companion said. "Have you all got your itineraries handy?"

"Yes, Miss Jackson," chorused a series of voices. I wondered if she was some long distant descendant of the prof. That would mean Jackson had married at some stage. The thought made me cringe. When would he have time to find a wife if he didn't even seem to have time to wash?

"Oh, I've got yours here," Miss Redhead handed me something that resembled an I-pad. "You dropped it when you fainted."

I accepted it with thanks and placed it in my lap.

"While we're in flight I want you all to read through it one more time," Miss Jackson announced. "I want you to view this as a holiday, since most of you will return to resume your studies at the end of the tour. I know none of you want to go. No one ever does, but there are some beautiful sights on Terron. I am going to set an essay on Terron culture once we return."

Groans ensued all round.

"Not that part of the culture, more to do with the planet's history. Once you return you will never need to concern yourselves with that rather unpleasant aspect of life ever again."

This time there were sniggers. "Only by those who have never had a boyfriend," Miss Redhead whispered to the Asian girl behind her hand.

"There is a huge different between an Earth boyfriend and being forced to mate with a Terron male," one of the other blonde woman muttered disdainfully. "I know I'd be really upset if I lose one of you." She gazed rather meaningfully at the girls seated around her.

I was starting to get a really bad feeling about this, and hoped I'd get the i-pad thingy to work so I could find out what on earth they were all talking about. If my assumption was correct we were all heading off to visit some distant planet on which lived a race of alien males these girls didn't like, but for some reason had to face in case one was chosen to 'mate' with them. I thought I was in the future. Didn't mating only apply to animals or perhaps cavemen?

"Mrs Arden's group got lucky,' Miss Jackson reminded us.

"But two girls were taken from Dawn Avery's, and three more disappeared from the La Trobe Institute," the Asian girl piped up again.

Just then a computer announced for everyone to fasten their seatbelts in preparation for takeoff. I looked around behind me, and found a small metal latch attached to the back of the seat. I leant over and watched Miss Redhead pull the one on her seat so that it stretched and went around her lap to attach itself to another part of the seat.

Neat, I thought and did the same. Once everyone was sitting comfortably, I heard a loud rumble beneath our feet as the thrusters started up. The rumbling grew louder and louder until we couldn't hear each other talk. I remembered movies about astronauts, and how during takeoff the G-forces had almost knocked them unconscious. I hoped this ship had some inertial dampeners or something, otherwise I'd probably end up a pancake.

Suddenly our seats bent backwards on some sort of hydraulic system so that we faced the ceiling. The pressure of take-off was phenomenal. I was pressed back so hard in my seat I thought I'd end up passing right through it. But whatever the armchair had been made from absorbed the pressure, shifting around me to cushion me. I managed to hold onto consciousness.

The roaring, rumbling and juddering didn't last long, and I finally dared open my eyes to look around. Through the side windows I saw the sky darkening as we left Earth's atmosphere.

Hey Dad, I'm doing it. I'm flying into outer space. Emotion rose in my throat as I thought of my father. How I wished he was here with me. He would have been over the moon, literally.

After a few more minutes the sky turned completely black, and I saw stars begin to speckle the darkness surrounding us.

"Time to initiate the infinity squared sequence. Please brace yourselves," the computerized voice over the loud-speaker warned.

Infinity squared? I wondered. What on Earth's that? How can you square infinity? That would just be infinity again! It was probably a simple, easy-to-remember sequence for something really complicated.

No amount of bracing prepared me for the next lurch the spaceship took. If it hadn't been for the seatbelt I would have ended up plastered to the ceiling for sure.

Then suddenly everything went completely still. It felt very much like the ship had just stopped in mid-air.

"You may unfasten your seatbelts and move about the cabin. Refreshments will be served shortly," the computer declared.

I heard the click-clack of seatbelts being released, but couldn't figure out how to undo mine. Once again Miss Redhead came to the rescue. "I can see you've never gone off-world before," she told me as she pressed her index finger against some sort of pressure-sensor on the metal catch.

"Thanks," I murmured. I got up from my seat, expecting to float away in zero gravity. But my feet remained firmly on the ground. Artificial gravity, I realized. I bounced up and down a few times, testing it out. It appeared to be just like Earth's. I felt somewhat disappointed. I would really have liked to float around like an astronaut.

True to the computer's announcement, the porters, now waiters, began to move amongst the passengers with trays laden with food and drinks. I thought we were going to receive food in tubes or sticks, or at best dried ration cakes, but I could see normal beverages and canapés. Only these were actually five star cocktails of numerous colors, smoked salmon, caviar, brushettas, prawns and other delicious treats.

When I helped myself to one of each, Miss Redhead slapped my hand away. "Do you want to put on weight?" she admonished.

I stared at her in amazement. "I would have thought by now they would have invented something to keep it off!" I growled, and crammed the tart I had managed to score into my mouth before she could snatch it off me.

"We all wish that!" She settled back into her seat, and I returned to mine. "Better start on these notes before Miss Jack-boots comes over here."

I had to giggle at her analogy. Obviously people of the future still remembered some of the old phrases, and how to crack a joke. We all still spoke with the Australian accent I'd grown accustomed to, so I assumed the shining city we'd just left had been Sydney, since that was where I'd gone for the experiment. Had the spaceport been built on the site of Sir Kingsford Smith Airport? I wondered how the locals handled the noise from spaceships rather than airplanes. But perhaps they now had perfectly sound-proofed homes.

Turning my attention to my own tablet, I stared at its blank screen, feeling around the sides for an 'on' switch. I soon learnt that it was tuned to the owner's mind waves, because my questing mind soon caused a whole manner of images and snippets of text to come on display in front of me.

Since I had been thinking about Earth's history over the past three hundred years, the device presented me with a brief rundown.

Before I knew it I was so engrossed I forgot that I was on a spaceship headed to another planet.

The nuclear wars some of the other participants had glimpsed through the Prof's rose colored goggles never happened. Something even worse had. Slowly but surely we had been killing the planet with our greenhouse gasses. The carbon trading introduced in the early years of the twenty-first century had failed miserably to stem global warming as business fat-cats continued to pollute and waste natural resources.

Year by year the Earth heated up, and island nations disappeared beneath the rising oceans, never to be seen again. People died in massive floors, cyclones, devastating snowstorms, and droughts that lasted decades.

But this didn't stop the wealthier nations from continuing with their expensive space exploration projects. Telling the poorer nations still in existence that it was to search for a solution didn't go down too well, and for many years wars continued to rage between the Middle East and the West, particularly the US.

However their questing finally paid off. Scientists from my own nation, Australia, discovered the wormhole in 2200.

I had to stop and wait for my head to stop spinning. Wormhole! Now I knew I was in the future! Wormholes had been speculated about for years, but this was the first one to be discovered, only a few million kilometers from Earth. It was stable enough for exploratory robot probes to be sent through, and one was intercepted by the Terrons. They sent us instructions on how to meet them, and the first Humans travelled through the wormhole to the other side of the Galaxy.

Even though the Terron race was dying from major fertility issues, they had the technology to help Earth. They had also invented the infinity squared system, which enabled us to navigate through what we soon discovered was a whole network of wormholes. Without it, we would have quickly become lost in the tangled web of conduits that ran through the universe.

The Terrons also possessed fuel that wouldn't pollute the atmosphere, found in three-metre tall plants that had once been considered weeds on their planet. Once the Earthlings discovered that oil could be refined from the stems and leaves of these large sunflower like plants, it could be used safely as fuel on Earth, so they encouraged the Terrons to begin farming them, since they refused to grow on Earth, our soil and atmosphere not compatible, no matter how much our scientists tried to recreate its unique properties.

But so far the only beings benefiting from this chance intergalactic meeting were the Earthlings, until the day a half-caste child was born of the two races, the first child planet Terron claimed to have seen in a decade. Unfortunately the mother died in childbirth, something that had not been heard of on Earth for hundreds of years. They soon discovered her death had occurred because the fetus had grown too quickly, and then born too suddenly and violently.

However the child emerged healthy and hale, and the the Terrons realized that their race need not die out after all. They requested a deal with Earth that they explore the matter further. Surely there must be a way for babies to be born without the mother having to die.

But by then the news was already out. No woman was prepared to take the risk.

The Terrons threatened to halt all oil shipments to Earth. Earth's entire infrastructures would collapse within weeks, since Earth no longer had an acceptable back up power source.

Earth had been backed into a corner.

And so the Treaty of 2212 was drawn up. All women of child-bearing age had to take a tour of duty to Terron. It sent fear into the hearts of them all, since it meant that the only way they could ever bear a half-caste child was to undergo a C-Section that had to be done at precisely the right time. Too soon and the baby was too young to survive, too late and the mother would die.

It was a precarious situation, since many lives were lost, and so few Earth women were actually compatible with Terron men. It heightened tensions between the two planets that would probably take years to overcome.

"Please fasten your seatbelts," the computer broke into my perusal. "We are about to exit infinity squared and enter the orbit of Terron's atmosphere."

Since I would not be able to hold onto the tablet while we shuddered our way out of infinity, I stuck it behind my back and braced myself for our arrival.

As I was forced back into my seat, it dawned on me that Anita and her classmates were part of the next consignment of brood mares, and the incredible hunks at the other end of the passenger deck were Terrron men.
Chapter Four

As he followed Logan into the restaurant, Jordan chafed from the restrictive Earth clothing his friend had packed in his suitcase. Logan, of course, strode ahead of him in his comfortable flowing Terron robes, while Jordan's pants pinched him in places he dared not mention in polite company, As for the shirt, it stretched so taut across his chest, he feared a wrong move would tear the buttons from their moorings and send them flying in all directions like deadly bullets.

It wasn't until he tried to sit down at the table they had been shown by their Aged waiter that Jordan realized just how tight and uncomfortable the pants were going to be. They gripped his thighs like a vice and bit into his most vulnerable anatomy.

He almost wished he'd worn the wedding pants. At least they were made from Terron fibre, and stretched as far as one wanted them to stretch. But it was forbidden to don that outfit until it was needed - or as Jordan suspected, would never be needed.

They had only been in the city for two days, and Jordan had actually begun to relax and enjoy himself. They had met up with some old acquaintances, several of whom would be joining them for dinner. One would bring his Earth mate, making Jordan realize that they hadn't dropped off the face of the planet after all. It would be interesting to see how they interacted, because the few Earth women he'd glimpsed since his arrival hadn't looked the slightest bit impressed about being here. And not one had stirred his senses or roused his body, indicating that she wasn't meant for him.

Our tour of duty only lasted three days, the bare minimum required from our Earth authorities. In that time I got to see some incredible sights and experience the most amazing technology, making me wish I had more time to examine everything. It all felt so rushed, like the 'See Europe in Ten Days' type holidays they had back in my time.

We took a sight-seeing tour on a hover bus. I soon learned that roads were no longer required. The bus was air-conditioned because the outdoor temperature was forty degrees Celsius in the shade. The huge orange sun made everything look like I was still squinting through the Prof's sunnies. Even though I had a funky pair of my own to wear, everything still looked brighter than it did on Earth. Every person I saw had a flushed appearance, making them look excited rather than drained from the heat.

The countryside was incredibly beautiful; lush and green, with undulating hills interspaced with Hytana farms checker-boarding the red soil with yellow.

Then we took off to the coast, the hover bus speeding us there at more than five hundred kilometers per hour. It was like being on a plane that hugged the contours of the land.

The coast could only be described as a tropical paradise, with gorgeous palm trees heavily hung with mango-like fruits. It was obvious that this was where holiday makers of both races came for their well-earned breaks.

As we alternated between swimming in the cool surf and relaxing in the shade of the palm trees, we were encouraged to stay apart from the native population. The few Terron women I saw didn't look like they were particularly enjoying themselves. Recalling what I'd read on my tablet, I could understand why. These poor females had become virtually extinct.

The few children I spotted resembled Earth youngsters, except they were actually older than they looked. I commented on a cute little blonde girl who seemed to have difficulty walking and was informed that she was just a toddler, only recently discovering what legs were for, not the four-year-old I'd initially guessed. It seemed they all inherited the Terron height.

During the trips on the bus I studied my tablet to gather more information. I wanted to learn as much as I could about this beautiful alien planet.

I soon realized why the Terrons were taller than Humans. The gravity here was actually less than Earth's, but only by a fraction, so tiny I hadn't even noticed. I couldn't even test it, as I was inhabiting a completely different body of a new and unknown fitness level.

Even though my companions refused to look at the Terrons, I couldn't help but sneak covert glances at the males. Having had so little to do with men during my sheltered life, their masculine beauty mesmerized me.

At the beach, they strode about in very little, their tanned skin accustomed to the glare of that huge bright sun. Their bodies were all lean, rippling with muscle, and their chiseled faces the epitome of an idealized Hollywood dream. And they were so tall, towering over their female companions, should they actually have one. But it seemed very few did. Those lucky enough to have an entire family looked more content than I'd ever seen anyone capable of being. It seemed they at least valued the forced matings my traveling companions were so vehemently against.

At one stage Miss Jackson distributed perfume bottles amongst us, saying it confused Terron men if we all smelt the same. From what I remember about scents, I would have thought everyone's skin type would react differently to it, but they had obviously invented one so uniform, we did exude the same aroma, something akin to hibiscus flowers.

On our last evening on Terron we were scheduled to dine at our hotel's restaurant. I had been sharing a room with Miss Redhead, whom I found out was actually called Emily-Sue. Seriously old-fashioned Americanized names appeared to have made a comeback.

I really seemed to have confounded her with my inability to remember how to style my hair and put on my make-up, but she took great pleasure in helping me get ready for our evening meal.

Once again I was wearing the gorgeous blue gown and the satin slippers, my hair curled about my head, with several soft waves left to drape seductively over my shoulders. When I was sure no one was looking, I'd stopped to study this beauty in the mirror, enjoying the pleasure it gave me, because I simply didn't know when all this would end.

It seemed strange this adventure had gone on as long as it had. I wondered if I was still slouched in that chair in the glass booth, while Professor Jackson fought to bring me back. Or perhaps I had slipped into some sort of coma, and was right now languishing in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines with tubes stuck into my body.

The thought should have worried me, but since there was nothing else I wanted to do with my life right now, I reveled in the whole experience. This was like a second life for me – the future stretched ahead, mine for the taking. My companions often frowned at me, no doubt wondering why I was the only one smiling and enjoying my exotic food and drink. All they could talk about was what they were going to do when they got back to Earth.

I supposed I would end up back in my drafty old mountain house when all this over, but I tried not to think about it. For the first time in my life I was having fun. Even getting all dolled up was fun, particularly when the results beamed back at me in such a stunning way.

Emily-Sue was about to usher us both out of our suite, when she grabbed the little perfume bottle from a side table. "Better have another spray of this. I don't think we had a dose of it since breakfast this morning." She pressed the plunger in my direction. I waved my hand in front of my face as the side of my neck was doused in hibiscus scent.

Still fanning myself, I followed her out the door, where we were met by several of the other girls. Miss Jackson was bearing down on us, knocking on various doors as she went. "Come along. Come along," she called out like am old fashioned school ma'am.

Once we were all assembled, Miss Jackson led the way to the elevator, which sped us up to our destination; the rooftop restaurant, where it was claimed we'd be able to see for hundreds of kilometers.

Jordan enjoyed his entrée and the conversation with his old friends. He hadn't realizing just how isolated he and Logan had become during the past few years. He had kept himself up to date with news reports on the vidcom, but as the evening progressed, he realized they simply didn't compare with living Terron contact. It was good to catch up with the latest gossip. Seeing how happy his dining companions were should have filled him with jealousy, but he only felt relief that they at least had made sure their race wouldn't die out... well, not within the next hundred years or so.

So far no scientist had been able to ascertain why almost an entire generation of Terron women had suddenly became sterile. As far as they knew, nothing in their environment and genetic make-up had changed, unlike Earth, which had been digging its own grave, and now relied on Terron's oil producing plants to sustain itself.

Human and Terron DNA was so similar the two races could have evolved alongside. No-one could figure out why, but some of the more radical scientists speculated that billions of years in the past a meteor from Terron, containing ancient Terron bacteria, had passed through the wormhole network and crash-landed on Earth, making all life possible.

The noise in the restaurant increased suddenly as another group entered the large, highly domed room. Everyone at their table turned to see a crowd of tittering Earth women gather around a large round table near the arched windows overlooking the city skyline.

A strange tingling sensation began to burn in the pit of Jordan's belly as he watched the group through lowered lashes. Even as he tried to snatch his gaze away the tingling grew stronger till it spread to his groin. Suddenly, his pants felt tighter than ever. A heady floral aroma accosted his nostrils, making his nose itch.

As he took another bite of his pastry, he watched the group of women find their places, laughing amongst themselves. The sensation began nagging at him to such an extent Jordan could no longer taste the food. The scent had become too strong, some kind of flower, probably from Earth. "Why must they wear those damn perfumes?" he complained out loud.

"What perfume?" Logan asked, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. "All I can smell is my sate prawns. And it smells delicious."

The sensations now boiling through Jordan were so strong that he had to put his cutlery down. Then he felt a throbbing in his groin he hadn't experienced in many years. He actually groaned out loud from the sheer power of it. He barely dared look down, but forced himself to do it, confirming his suspicions. "Well, I'll be damned!" he gasped. "She's here!"

"Who's here, my friend?" Logan arched his white brows.

Jordan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and glanced at the Earth women again, now sitting comfortably at their table. Jordan realized that one was destined to become his mate. He returned his attention to his friends. "I hate to spoil dinner like this, but I have a bit of a problem."

Logan actually glanced down at Jordan's lap. "By Envah! It's happening!" He slapped Jordan on a shoulder so hard the younger man almost face-planted in his entrée. He grinned at those assembled at the table around them. "Better late than never, my friend. Looks like our Jordan has a date with destiny."

"Why did I let you talk me into these pants? They're killing me," Jordan complained, as desire continued to pulse its heat into his groin. His penis increase in size, becoming larger than he had ever felt it. He shifted again to try and ease the discomfort. It didn't help. The thing seemed to be draining blood from his vital organs.

The other men at the table laughed loudly, and then began congratulating him. "We're happy for you, and no, you're not spoiling our dinner. Go and meet your mate, your life-partner. We'll catch up some other time."

Logan scrambled to his arthritic feet, and extended a gnarled hand to Jordan.

"I can't walk through a crowded restaurant like this," Jordan motioned down to his huge throbbing groin.

"Here, borrow my jacket." Logan swept it off the back of his chair with a flourish. "That ought to cover the evidence," he chuckled.

"Yes, but I'm still going to be walking like I've just spent all day riding a Maltouk!" Jordan growled. Maltouks were four-legged Terron beasts bred for their acrobatic show-jumping abilities. He gritted his teeth. He was no longer in a smiling mood. He suddenly felt at the mercy of his body, a mere passenger along for the ride. And his body wanted its mate, pulsing and aching for her, tormenting his nostrils with her heady feminine scent. Jordan shrugged on the black jacket and did up the buttons, but as he stood, he felt the throbbing heaviness of his erection pressing insistently against his too tight clothes.

His legs didn't seem to want to obey the command of his mind as he left the grinning group around the table. He had to face an even more daunting group on the other side of the room. If he hadn't been so swamped with physical sensations, he would have been nervous, because it had been years since he'd had anything to do with the female gender, other than fleeting pleasantries in shops or through business transactions.

But his body drove him now, propelling him towards the young women whose dinner he was going to spoil, because one of them would not be going home as planned.

There was so much delicious food to choose from, I simply couldn't make up my mind what I wanted to order. Neither, it seemed, could my traveling companions, but this was because they wouldn't stop going on about how glad they were that this was their final night on Terron. All they talked about was their respective boyfriends, and various outings they were looking forward to when they returned to Earth.

Couldn't any of them appreciate the rugged beauty of the planet they had come to visit? The subtle differences in culture, even the fact that the food tasted different, despite the Terron's best efforts to make everything as Earthean as possible?

Which begged the question, why would they want to? Why pander so extensively to Earth's culture, when that world relied so heavily on their oil for its survival? I supposed it had something to do with that Interplanitary Treaty. It now seemed none of us would end up subjected to it, but I still didn't fully understand it.

There had been an entire chapter about what to expect on my tablet, but when I went to read it, Emily–Sue had waved her hand over it, erasing the materiel from view. She'd told me that no one ever read it for fear of encouraging the dreaded union.

When we had entered the restaurant, I had seen a few Earth women dining with their Terron partners, and none of them looked unhappy to be there. What was it about these tall, handsome, well built men that instilled such prejudice and reluctance? Was it the fear of childbirth? Or the fact that it was like an arranged marriage, with free choice taken out of the equation? Every time I tried to ask one of the girls about it, they quickly changed the subject, or looked at me oddly, as though I was the alien.

I think they had already come to the conclusion that the bump to my head at the spaceport had seriously affected me somehow. None of them seemed to want to include me in their more private conversations, not that this bothered me. Always having been an outsider, I dismissed their rudeness and continued with my own observations.

I kept thinking about the Terron men. I had no idea why they should intrigue me so, since I'd never been particularly interested in males before, other than that long gone youthful flush back in my teens and early twenties.

I guessed this new interest was because I now wore this lovely young body. After years of lumbering under my extra kilos, it felt strange to be able to virtually glide across the floor in soft satin slippers. How long did I have to enjoy this beautiful form? Long enough to return to Earth and find out I had a handsome boyfriend waiting for me? The thought sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, another feeling I was totally unfamiliar with.

The tittering ceased around me, and the faces of the girls on the other side of the table suddenly turned serious. I glanced up from my menu to find out what had changed the atmosphere.

A shadow fell over me, and I glanced up to see several men standing behind us. One was from Earth. The only reason I knew this was because he was considerably shorter than the other two. As I had never seen an elder Terron male before, I was surprised to see an older man with long silver hair standing beside the most spectacular Terron specimen I had seen to date.

Even though the young Terron was wearing a black jacket that hid his muscular form from view, he exuded strength and power. He stood with his hands fisted deep in his pockets. Since my eyes were level with his legs I couldn't help but notice how his jeans hugged his strong thighs like a second skin.

I really had to crane my neck to be able to peer up into his face. The first thing that struck me were his eyes; deep set and intense, a cold silvery blue in color. I suppressed a shiver as I confronted his hard sculpted face. A long blade-like nose, high cheek bones and a square jaw completed the image of someone not to be messed with. The grim cast of his features made him look even meaner. He really looked irritated about something, probably the noise we were making.

Long blonde hair fell in shimmering waves over his broad shoulders, the only soft thing about him. Even his fair eyebrows came to points above those glittering eyes.

His nostrils flared as he leaned forward between Emily-Sue and I. He sniffed the air as though he found our perfume offensive.

"I'm afraid we are going to have to cut your dinner short, ladies," the Earthean man announced as one of the waiters arrived to take our orders. The Human male waved him away.

A loud rumble of discontent ensued amongst my traveling companions. My own stomach growled noisily in response, and I was certain at least those on either side of me had heard it. Even wearing this slender body I still enjoyed my food.

The blonde giant certainly heard it, because his grim mouth quirked ever so slightly, as though he was trying not to smile. He moved to sniff the air on my other side, almost like a dog. And then I remembered Emily-Sue's comment about the perfume. 'It confuses them.'

"Mr Demantena believes one of you to be his mate, so I have to ask you all to adjourn to the terrace lounge while we sort this out," the official said. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'll have some food brought to you. It's very comfortable there and you'll still be able to see the city lights."

"I don't give a fig about the lights. I just want to go home," moaned Laura-Beth, the blonde girl sitting directly across from me. Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm going to lose one of my friends tonight, aren't I?"

I couldn't believe how quickly the girls' pleasant mood had been replaced by this uncomfortable mix of sadness and fear. I squirmed in my seat as Mr Deman... whatever it was... leant in so close that I felt the heat from his body.

He sniffed the air again, and then stood with an angry growl. "They all smell the same... They have disguised their true scent with something else... Make them remove it," he ordered in a deep, gruff voice.

The young official looked pained, and turned to Mrs Jackson. "Is this true? Are the girls wearing perfume? You know it's an offence to hinder the treaty in any way."

Mrs Jackson paled. "I... I..." she stammered.

"Make them wash it off, and meet us in the terrace lounge. If Mr Demantena has no problem choosing his mate then, I won't report it."

"And if I do then I will have the whole lot of you charged," Mr Demantena added in his deep growl of a voice, before turning abruptly to stalk away.

Mrs Jackson wasn't the only one who looked pale. Just about every one of the young women bore a worried expression, no doubt fearing that they would be the next Mrs Demantena. His cold demeanor had certainly sent a chill down my spine.

The young official started gesturing for us to get up, and reluctantly everyone at the table scrambled to their feet.

"This is all so unfair," Emily-Sue complained. "The way they can just march right up to someone and coldly announce that their life as they know it will now be over..." She trailed off tearfully.

"I think he already knows which one of us it is," the Asian girl muttered through the corner of her mouth as we filed from the restaurant. "That comment about the perfume was just a barb at our pathetic attempts to avoid having to mate with him."

"I'd rather die than be forced to- to... Oh God!" the dark girl cried.

"Come on girls," Mrs Jackson urged. "Please hold yourselves together. Don't give in to your fears."

"It's not you he's after," Emily-Sue snapped back at her as she stomped angrily down the corridor. "So we can damn well wail and gnash out teeth all we like."

"How long is this all going to take?" Jordan groaned, as he paced the lush shag pile carpet of his suite. "I don't think I can take too much more of this."

"Look, why don't you go into the bathroom and take the edge off. That might help," Logan suggested as Jordan stomped past him.

"What?" Jordan narrowed his eyes at him. Had he known it would be this overwhelming, this powerful, he would have wished for Logan's fate. His whole body now throbbed with desire, and his erection was so hard and tight it actually hurt.

Logan spread his hands. "You know. Take care of it yourself." He touched his thumb and forefinger together, and slid the index finger of his other hand in and out of the loop several times. He gave a lascivious wink.

Realizing what his friend was on about, Jordan frowned. "Do you think it will help?"

"Only one way to find out." He motioned towards the closed door of the bathroom.

Jordan did as Logan had suggested, ensuring the door was locked behind him. With trembling fingers he undid his belt, and fumbled with the button. He was shaking so much from the power of the sensations rocking though him, that he wondered how he was going to be able to stop himself from simply falling on his mate and taking her against her will.

"Dear Envah I hope this works," he groaned, now struggling with the zip. His bulge was so big that he couldn't seem to get the damn thing to slide past it. Why did Human clothes have to be so damn complicated?

Finally it complied, and Jordan heaved a relieved sigh, but when he looked down again, he gaped. It had been years since he'd seen himself like this. He was engorged to breaking point, the skin dark and tight around the throbbing organ. He coated his hands with moisturizing lotion and then took himself in hand. The thick, hard organ felt hot against his palm when he coiled his fingers around it, several degrees higher than the rest of his body temperature.

As soon as he took hold of himself, his whole body jerked, his knees almost buckling beneath him. He collapsed against the door as he found his own rhythm, the pressure continuing to build till he thought he would explode into a zillion tiny fragments.

His breath was coming in short hard pants as his fist pumped harder. The image of his mate flashed before his eyes, and he knew in an instant which of the Earth women was destined to be his.

Release surged through him like seismic shock waves, and he cried out load, his whole body jerking back against the door. He watched in shock as a glittering silver arc fountained into the air from the end of his organ.

"Good God!" he gasped. "It's never done that before." It had always come out in a faint trickle. Neither had anyone told him about it. He supposed it meant he was now fertile and capable of creating a child to keep their race from dying out. The thought pleased him, and he stepped away from the door.

But trying to pull the zipper back up again proved futile. Even though he'd taken the edge of his desire for his mate, he could still feel it inside him, and his erection remained to remind him this was far from over.

"Are you all right in there?" Logan thumped on the door. "Do you need a hand?" There was an evil chuckle.

Jordan had never known the older man to have such a nasty sense of humor. "If you must know, I can't get this damn zipper back up!" Jordan growled back.

"Perhaps it's time to haul out those wedding pants, since it seems one of them pretty young things is going to steal my best friend from me, at least for the next two weeks or so." There was another laugh.

Jordan yanked open the door to face his life-time companion, but Logan had already disappeared to some other part of the suite, no doubt searching for those accursed trousers. As soon as he was properly attired he'd track down that little rodent of an official and demand he take him to the women. Trying to remove the urge to mate with his partner had proven futile. The need was coursing through him again, more powerful than before. He burned and ached to the very core of his being.
Chapter Five

After we'd splashed cold water on ourselves, some even reapplying their make-up, we were ushered to a comfortable round table in a large sitting room, where we were served our dinner. It was nothing like what we would have enjoyed at the glittering rooftop restaurant, but it still tasted better than anything I'd cooked over the past few years. My culinary skills were basic at best, and I'd lost the heart to create anything interesting because my mother complained no matter what I made. So I'd kept it simple and bland, but on the side I had indulged in ice cream, chips and chocolate bars, my secret rewards to myself, which of course had piled on the kilos.

A couple of the girls decided the only way they could handle what might eventuate, was to imbibe as much of the fruity wine as they could. Since it tasted so nice, even I decided to indulge, but in a slightly more civilized manner. I still wanted to learn more about what was going on here, and I didn't want to be too toasted.

Miss Jackson frowned across the table at them, but decided to keep her opinion to herself for a change. The atmosphere in the room was akin to that of a wake, dark and dismal. No one seemed to want to talk, which suited me fine. After three days of their incessant chatter, I appreciated the peace and quiet. It gave me time to think, as I wondered what the outcome of this strange journey of mine would be.

What awaited me on my return to Earth? Would I continue on in the shoes of the lovely young Andita DeBurgh, or would I end up back in my own cumbersome body? The more I thought about it, the less I felt like going back. I wanted to be free of the old Ruth, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

I had seen and done more interesting things over the past few days than in my entire lifetime. It made me realize I really did have an adventurous streak, something that had obviously been stamped out of me by my personal circumstances, my domineering mother and my own low self-esteem and unattractiveness.

When I thought of my father, I couldn't help imagining him applauding my current situation, even though it seemed that women of the future had taken a retrograde step in letting this crazy Treaty become law. Wasn't there anything else Earth could have offered the Terrons besides its own women? Other than that they were free to pursue their studies back on Earth, but it seemed this particular group were as vacuous as any debutantes from the nineteen fifties. Were all young women on Earth this insipid and disinterested in the larger picture? I might have missed out on a great deal of life experience, but at least I still kept abreast of current affairs.

A flurry of activity at the door told us that the man we'd tried to thwart out of his mate had returned. And this time there would be no denying him. His strong handsome features were tight with determination, and his intense sky-blue eyes glittered silver with an inner light. He really was the most magnificent man I had ever seen. How could any girl not want to swoon in those strong arms?

Swoon? I remembered thinking how I'd never do that! And here I was, practically drooling! I blamed my new body, obviously still pumped with feminine hormones I had lost years ago.

He crossed the plush carpeted floor in several long strides. He still wore the black jacket but had changed his trousers, because this pair shimmered under the overhead lights, and were so tight they almost looked as though they were a part of him. Some kind of futuristic lycra I assumed as I finally managed to tear my eyes from his long lean legs and he walked around the table and out of my line of sight. But I could sense him, and knew he had stopped directly behind my seat.

I almost jumped right out of my chair when he placed his hand on my shoulder. As I turned to glance at it I noticed how enormous it was, with long tapered fingers tipped with neat buffed nails. He could twist my head off my shoulders in an instant with paws like that I thought, almost wishing a return to my more robust middle-aged body.

It was then I realized just why he had laid his hand against my shoulder, particularly when Emily-Sue grabbed hold of my arm and started to sob.

I was the chosen one, the one destined to be his mate. But I can't be, I rebelled internally. I'm not from this time and place. I don't even belong here.

Of course Mr Dinner Plate hands didn't know this. Before I knew it, he had easily drawn me from my chair, by sliding his massive paws under the crocks of my arms.

Emily-Sue continued to cling to my arm. "No, not Anita," she cried. "Not her."

"I'm sorry," he rumbled from above me, as he pulled me against his body. I came up against a solid wall of muscle. His apology astounded me, and I glanced up into his face. Yes, he did mean it, I realized, as a flicker of regret flared in his silvery eyes. Then he easily pried Emily-Sue's fingers from my other arm.

"Unless your planet can come up some other way, this is the way of things," he said in a deep accent-free voice. It seemed all Terrons spoke English like that. Languages and accents weren't something I'd studied in any particular detail in my life, but the way the Terrons spoke made them sound so devoid of emotion, like they possessed no feelings whatsoever. It was a relief to find Mr Demantena did have them, however guarded they might be.

His words mirrored my thoughts of only moments ago. Obviously he had reservations about the whole treaty thing too, making me wonder if I now had some leverage to negotiate my way out of this bizarre situation. I knew if I didn't do it soon, he'd probably knock me over the head and drag me back to his cave by my hair.

Instead of the future I felt like I'd taken a trip into a bygone era of arranged marriages and slavery. Until today I hadn't even met the man. We didn't know anything about one another, yet we were expected to 'mate' because of some crazy sixth sense his race seemed to possess.

Emily-Sue came after us as Mr Demantena propelled me away from the table, his hand still resting firmly against the back of my neck. I realized the glass of wine I'd drunk had made me a bit too tipsy. I felt a little light-headed and my legs were rubbery, but it could also be because of the immense man walking beside me, as he guided me where he wanted me to go.

I suppose I could have broken free and run back to the sobbing women, but something told me I'd end up bodily removed from the room, just like a cave girl. I much preferred to go under my own steam. Besides, I'd had enough of their company. Despite my apprehension about what would happen next, I was rather intrigued by this tall alien man, and thought despite my reservations he'd be much more interesting company. I mean how many people did I know who had actually left Earth's orbit?

"Can't we at least say goodbye? Emily-Sue cried.

A tearful farewell was the last thing I wanted, so I hastened my exit, also managing to get away from the overwhelming presence of my new-found companion and the pressure of that huge warm hand against my back. Once we were out in the corridor, officials directed us in opposite directions anyway, at least for now.

I was escorted back to my suite to collect my belongings. I crammed them into my case as fast as I could, hating the way every move I made was being watched by that odious little official and his off-sider. Then I found myself in the elevator once more, heading to yet another floor. Trying to keep track of where I was going proved futile. They all looked the same. Soon I was completely disoriented and lost.

In the end I was ushered into a curtained chamber with a view over the ocean. The planet's three moons were bright tonight, something I hadn't noticed from the other side of the building looking down on the city skyline. It was a breathtaking scene, but I wasn't given time to admire it. An Earthean woman appeared from another room and beckoned me to join her.

I entered what appeared to be a change room, and in front of me hang the most beautiful satin dress I had ever seen. So brides still wore white, I reasoned, as the woman introduced herself. That set me to wondering if as Anita, I was still a virgin. I had absolutely no idea!

"My name is Dana, and I've been living on Terron for twenty years," she said, sounding quite proud of the fact. I turned to regard her. If she'd been mated to one of the Terrons, she must have done so in her twenties, which would make her close to my real age, but this woman looked so ageless it was impossible to determine her age. She had sleek black hair, intelligent brown eyes, and smooth clear skin any teenager would be proud of.

"You don't look like you've been here that long." I just had to say it.

She smiled, but didn't answer my question. "I think you will look absolutely stunning in this dress." She fingered the satiny materiel of the gown.

"If it fits," I remarked.

"They always fit," she asserted. "It's made from the materiel the Terrons make most of their clothes out of. Unfortunately they won't let us take a sample back to Earth to analyze. It would save a fortune in the clothing industry because it stretches so far and seems to last forever."

If fashion now was anything like my time, then cloth like this would close down the entire clothing industry, but I didn't comment. I let her help me out of my blue dress and into the new one, for which I wasn't permitted to wear my bra or even my panties. It wasn't until I had the garment on that I realized why support wasn't necessary. The dress clung to me so well that it held me in and hugged me in all the right places, although I wasn't impressed with the more than ample amount of cleavage now on display.

But I couldn't help enjoying the sensual feel of the materiel against my skin. It was soft and light, almost like wearing nothing at all. The long flowing skirt fluttered about my legs like the caress of a thousand butterflies. And, unlike lycra, it breathed.

"And now in keeping with Earth tradition, a fingertip veil." Dana pulled a white tulle veil festooned with pearls from the dresser behind her. She fluffed it out and affixed it to the top of my head with a pearl and crystal encrusted comb.

I'm getting married Mother, I couldn't help thinking, to the most stunning man imaginable. I really must be dreaming. This can't possibly be happening. But everything I'd been experiencing these past three days had made me feel more alive than anything I'd done in my entire life.

This meant I was also going to find out all about sex. At that thought I swallowed. I didn't think I was ready for that, particularly not with a man I didn't even know, a man who was so damn huge. Perhaps I could talk him into spending some time getting to know one another first, I thought hopefully.

"There." Dana placed her hands on my shoulders to turn me so I could look in the mirror. Staring at the stunning woman on the other side of the glass, I very much doubted Mr Demantena would want to spend time getting to know me. He'd probably devour me on the spot. I had never seen a more beautiful bride. What if I morphed back into my true self the moment he said 'I do?' I wondered for an insane moment. He'd probably run screaming from the room.

"Are you ready?" Dana asked.

"As I'll ever be," I murmured softly, still awed by the wide-eyed young beauty gazing back at me from the mirror.

"Speaking from experience, the first time isn't so bad, particularly if you've had a boyfriend before."

Since I knew virtually nothing about Anita's life before I took over, all I could do was hope that she had. After seeing how large his hands were, I didn't doubt Mr Demantena's other organs were equally in proportion. I suppressed a shiver. I really didn't fancy losing my virginity to an oversized alien on another planet. But it seemed that this was precisely what was going to happen to me. Once again I hoped that Anita had already had sex.

"Have no fear Anita. They have been well schooled in the art of love-making," Dana once again tried to reassure me. Unfortunately it didn't work, as another shiver chilled down my spine.

She pulled the front of my veil over my face, so that I was now looking at the world through frosted gauze. On uncertain legs, I followed her out of the change room, down another long corridor, and into a very official looking chamber.

Two pompous-looking men were sitting behind a long bench to one side. One looked like he was from Earth but the other was obviously Terron. They all seemed to favor long hair, but this man had his tied back into a neat braid. They both wore elegant black robes adorned with embroidery down the front.

Another official-looking man stood beside the man I was to marry, along with the older one I'd first seen him with. I wondered if he was his father. The last thing I wanted in my life right now were parents-in-law. He too wore one of those long black embroidered robes. But what Mr Demantena was wearing, or more to the point, not wearing, completely stole my breath away.

He still had on those shiny skin-tight black pants, but had removed his jacket. I sincerely wished he'd left it on, because I felt my face flush as I took in the sight of the biggest damn erection I'd ever seen, not that I'd been subject to many... well not this up close and personal. If my cheeks could have flared any redder I would have turned into a tomato.

Tearing my eyes away from that enormous bulge didn't help my flaming cheeks, because the shimmery white shirt he wore had been left open almost to the navel, revealing the most impressive abs in the galaxy. Which galaxy, I wasn't sure, since I had no idea just how far from Earth I was, but they beat anything a body-builder from my own time period could have produced without pumping iron and drinking steroid milk-shakes.

Dana nudged me from behind, and I realize I'd faltered in my steps. I glanced at her, and my confusion must have shown on my face. Once again she beamed her reassuring smile. She appeared to have come out of this still in one piece, so I took a few more uncertain steps.

My husband-to-be, or mate, or whatever the heck he was supposed to be, held out his hand to me, but I didn't put mine in it, because when he moved, I saw that his shirt had splits in the sleeves, revealing tanned muscular arms. I know most women would have been reduced to a puddle of drool on the floor by now, but I wasn't a normal woman, and neither was this a normal situation.

I had to marry this incredible hunk, and then have sex with him! How could I when the sight of that massive bulge in his pants scared the living daylights out of me? There was no way I'd survive a night of passion with a man built like him. And why the hell was he sprouting such a massive hard-on anyway? Surely he should have more self-control than that!

This was clearly what my traveling companions had been warning me about. And naïve little fool that I was had walked straight into the lion's den. Not that I'd had much choice otherwise.

"All right, what do I have to do to get out of this?" I heard myself asking in a frightened little mouse voice.

"It's all right, Anita," Dana tried to reassure me again.

I rounded on her. "No, it's not all right. Look at him, for goodness sake. He's going to break this tiny little body in two!" I swept a hand over my borrowed persona. Even as Ruth Clarke, I doubted my ability to accommodate what he had filling his trousers.

"No, he won't. Haven't you read your notes?" she asked.

"No, can I go and read them now?" I demanded. Anything for a reprieve while I tried to work out a way to extricate myself from this insane situation.

"This can't wait," Mr Demanteena growled, grabbing hold of my hand in his enormous one. It was then I noticed he was trembling. As I glanced up at him in alarm, I saw a faint sheen of sweat on his brow. After nursing my mother for years, I saw the sickness in his eyes right away. Whereas they'd had a healthy silvery glow a short time ago, they were now as dull as those of a dying man. Even his skin seemed to have paled beneath his tan. Why did such a well-built, supposedly healthy man, suddenly look like he was standing on death's door?

"I don't even know your first name," I cried, trying to extract my hand from his, but he held it fast. He might look ill, but he was still much stronger than I.

"It's Jordan," he ground out, as though it was an effort to even talk. His hand continued to tremble as he pulled me closer to him. I became conscious of how hot he felt, much hotter than before.

"Jordan?" I squeaked, having expected something unusual and exotic as his surname.

"Yes, blame your planet for that one," he rumbled.

He hadn't asked me my name, and I wondered if he even cared to know. Probably not. He'd just want to jump my bones and impale me on that great big rod of his. I cringed inwardly at own overactive thoughts.

"No, it's a perfectly nice name," I admitted. "I just expected something more, Terron, I suppose. And what's wrong with you, anyway? You're sweating and shaking like you've got a severe dose of the flu."

"Terrons don't get the flu," he muttered, and nodded to the Terron official standing in front of us, who took this as his cue to begin the marriage rites. They sounded exactly like they had hundreds of years ago on Earth, except his accent-less voice made him seem banal and completely disinterested in his job. Perhaps he was. He'd probably read out these rites hundreds of times before, and couldn't really give a fig what became of all the Earth women who disappeared into Terron's hinterland.

As I stood there beside the towering inferno, my ears buzzing and my own body rebelling, I longed for a pair of red shoes I could click together and mutter; 'There's no place like home. There's no place like home.'

Surely the Prof would have worked out how to get me back by now. He couldn't mean to leave me here permanently, could he?

But when Jordan Demanteena said he would take Anita DeBurgh as his lawfully wedded wife, I finally came up with my out clause.

So when the official turned and asked me the same question, I said; "Well, you see that's the problem. I'm not Anita. I'm actually Ruth Clarke from the year two-thousand and twelve. And I took part in this experiment that kind of got out of hand-"

"She says yes," my over-sexed companion interrupted my ramblings.

"No, I don't," I protested, glaring at him. "And if we're sticking to tradition here, if one party says no then it means-"

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the official announced.

"No," I finished. They weren't even listening to me! Didn't I have any rights at all?

Suddenly the towering inferno seemed to tumble, taking me with him. If it hadn't been for both his elderly companion and the official grabbing hold of his arms, he would have landed right on top of me. Luckily I managed to scramble away as he let go of my hand.

"Can't take it... anymore..." Jordan moaned, seeming to sag between them. "Too late... it's all too late." A look of despair clouded his ashen face. He looked utterly devastated.

"My God!" I gasped. "Is he going to die?"

"Not yet, but he's going to Age," the older man said grimly. "Just like me."

"Well duh," I said. "Don't we all?" Except for me, it seemed, who appeared to be defying that particular law of nature due to Professor Johnston's malfunctioning time travel experiment.

"I'll call the medic," Dana said. "Surely something can be done before it's too late. Take him through to the honeymoon suite," she ordered.

Somehow they managed to drag the comatose blonde giant out of the room. Before I was given the opportunity to even consider making a run for it, two steroid-munching guards dressed all in black, carrying sophisticated looking firearms I didn't want to mess with, appeared as though by magic to escort me in the same direction.

The honeymoon suite turned out to be a magnificent set of rooms overlooking the Citadel in another part of this enormous hotel complex. A gorgeous sitting room from which veered a massive bathroom, and beside it another room dominated by the biggest damn bed I'd ever seen. I guess it had to be huge to accommodate the likes of Jordan Demanteena, who still seemed to dominate it despite it's size. He lay sprawled on it, looking like he was asleep, rather than suffering from some terminal Terron aging disease. And that damn bulge in his trousers still hadn't gone down despite his comatose state. I chanced a glance back at my two guards' nether regions. Neither of them were packing anything even remotely like it.

I was beginning to wonder if I should feel sorry for the man. The elderly gent now sitting at his side on the bed had looked positively heart-broken when he'd collapsed. The thought of getting married and then having my husband promptly die on me didn't sit al all well, and I glanced away from the tragic scene of the gravely ill man and his grieving companion, wondering if my guards would allow me to even leave the room.

They flanked me as I returned to the sitting room, and watched me closely as I sank down onto one of the soft velvet-covered lounge chairs. I leant forward to place my elbows on my knees, and rubbed the sides of my temples with my fingers, not realizing until then how tense I was. Where was the damn fruity wine? I could have used a whole carafe of it right now!

My journey into the future had suddenly turned from an adventure into disaster, with me a virtual prisoner, forced to marry a dying man. Could this night possibly get any worse?
Chapter Six

The medic arrived promptly enough. They must have had one stationed within the building, which didn't surprise me, since it appeared to house so many people from both planets. What did surprise me was that the medic was a Terron woman, one of the very few I'd seen since my arrival on the planet.

She swept past me without even a glance. Since I was sitting hunched in my over-sized armchair, she probably didn't even notice me. She was almost as tall as her Terron male counterparts, with features equally as sharp and angular. Behind her she trailed a bag, no doubt containing her medical supplies. She was wearing a pair of long loose-fitting pale blue pants and an equally as comfortable looking white shirt. Her long honey-colored hair was tied back in a loose braid, and she wore no adornments or jewelry that I could see. It seemed only the women from Earth dolled themselves up, the same way they always had. I had to admit I preferred her casual garb to this tight and revealing gown, I continuously had to hike the bodice up on for fear of bits of me falling out of it. Nice boobs I might have borrowed, but I didn't particularly want everyone getting an eyeful of them.

Since I'd seen enough sickness with my slowly deteriorating mother, I glanced away when the medic entered the bedroom, preferring instead to concentrate on removing the irritating veil from my hair, no mean feat, since Dana had used almost an entire packet of pins and bottle of hairspray to keep it in place. Since I didn't consider myself married I draped it over the armrest of my chair, absently fingering the soft gauze, wondering just what was going to happen to me next.

I glanced back up at my guards, who both stood about a foot apart, their brawny arms crossed over their massive chests, legs planted wide, shiny silver alien weapons looking ominous in their side holsters within easy reach.

Dana appeared in the main doorway. It wasn't until she stepped up to one of the guards and slipped her arms around his waist, that I realized just why she'd come back. So this was her man, I mused, watching as he returned her embrace by draping his brawny arm about her slender shoulders. She looked more like a child standing beside him than his partner.

I could hear the medic and Jordan's elderly friend talking in soft voices in the adjoining room, but couldn't make out any words. I returned my attention to my lap, not wanting to witness Dana and her mate's affection. I'd always been embarrassed whenever I came across couples kissing or embracing in public places.

"I've given him something that will revive him for a while," the medic announced suddenly, her voice sounding almost as deep as a man's. My head jerked up, and I saw her standing in the doorway between the two rooms, obscuring the bed from view.

Her gaze dropped to me. "I suggest you get on with it as quickly as possible. With any luck you might be able to arrest the Aging process if you mate within the hour. If not, not only will his life be severely shortened, he might also need an amputation." She waved her hand in the vicinity of her body where a certain male appendage would be. "I've never seen such a severe reaction."

I shuddered visibly. This was not good. Not good at all!

She retreated into the bedroom to pack up her medical supplies, coming back out with the elderly man. They both walked past me without another word. Just as I started to wonder if they were going to leave the guards behind, they too fell into step behind them. Dana gave me one more reassuring smile, before the door slid shut in their wake.

Naturally I had to follow them to test it, and of course I couldn't find any way of opening it. There was no handle, no gap or break in the hard surface that seemed like some sort of metal, plastic and wood all rolled into one. With a sigh I stepped back and stood there in the sitting room. I knew I should go to Jordan, but I at that particular point in time I felt quite ill myself. All the rich food and wine was starting to repeat on me.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders, turned around, and entered the bedroom. Jordan still lay unmoving on the bed, his eyes closed as though merely asleep. I wondered how long it would take whatever the medic had given him to kick in.

Slowly I stepped closer, continuing to study him. He really was the most beautiful man, with strong powerful legs, a lean waist leading to an impressive six-pack and massive abs. Even when out for the count, he was impressive.

All that long wavy blonde hair fanning out about his head seemed so incongruous with the hard lines of his strong, masculine face. In repose his mouth had softened, and the long, fair lashes resting against his high cheekbones contrasted with the tough guy look he wore when awake.

I wondered what kind of a person he really was. Since I was now married to him, I supposed I would find out soon enough. However the way I had been shanghaied into this did not sit well with me. In the past three hundred years Humanity had taken a huge retrograde step in the way it treated its womenfolk. After all those years of fighting for equal rights, us females were right back in the middle-ages, to be traded or sold as merchandise for plant oil, of all things.

A soft moan from the bed yanked me out of my irritated thoughts, and I wondered it Jordan was finally coming out of his stupor. I continued to gaze down at him, but he didn't stir. In fact he seemed to look worse than ever, his skin flushing red from whatever fever ailed him.

Did this mean I had to take matters into my own hands? Reluctantly I slid my gaze back down his powerful body, to that ominous bulge in his pants. It was still there, and I could have sworn I saw it twitch.

I'd seen a few pictures of men's anatomy over the years, but not once had I ever touched one. I wondered how I could possibly bring myself to do so now. The heat returned to my face as I reached out so my fingertips grazed against the satin of his pants. It felt as soft to touch as it looked, but didn't elicit a reaction from the man who wore them. As I gently laid my hand against his leg, I was conscious of how firm and hard it felt compared to the materiel which covered him. Every part of him seemed packed solid with muscle. Just what did he do for exercise to get so strong? Or were all Terron men simply gifted with their impressive physiques by nature?

Once again I found myself wondering how my own species could have stooped so low as to force its womenfolk to pair up with such powerful men. Wasn't it bad enough that women were physically weaker than Earth men, that they now had to 'mate' with these virtual giants from another world?

I had never considered myself much of a feminist, but I felt like one now, rebelling in my mind at the injustice of my current situation.

But then a new feeling snuck up on me as I looked down at my small sender hand resting against the man's strong thigh. It took me completely by surprise, since I don't think I could recall ever experiencing the like. It started as a slow burning heat in my stomach and spread downwards, making my legs grow weak, It shocked me as much as warmed me, because I recognized what it was... desire...

And why shouldn't I feel it?

Here I was stroking the thigh of an incredibly sexy man who had no idea I was doing it. I could do anything I liked to him until he stirred, if he ever did. Perhaps the concoction the medico had given him wouldn't work, and he'd grow old before my very eyes.

He was too beautiful, I couldn't help thinking. I can't let that happen to him. And I knew in that instant I would do what I'd been brought here to do.

With shaking hands, I slid my fingers under the waistband of his trousers and eased them down. He wore no underwear underneath, just like I'd been forbidden to wear anything under my tight white sheath of a gown. The materiel stretched easily, but I still had to pull to get it over that massive erection of his.

The sight of it as it sprang free actually made me gasp out loud. More heat flared in my cheeks and other parts of my body. The skin looked so tight and red, I almost felt sorry for him, wondering if it actually hurt to be so hard and erect. I remembered how tense and uncomfortable he'd been before, that he had even had trouble speaking, and thought that I was probably right.

A down of soft blonde curls surrounded that massive member, several shades darker than the lush waves surrounding his head. He had none on his chest, and his arms also appeared to be relatively hairless. I supposed that was another difference between Earth and Terron men. My mother had harbored an almost unnatural aversion to body hair, and hated it when my father didn't shave every morning and night.

Tentatively I slid my hand up into that nest of hair, finding it warm and soft. Then before I lost my nerve completely I slid my fingers around his shaft, not surprised to find I could barely reach around it. It jerked against my palm, and my eyes shot up to his face, but he was still out for the count, the reaction clearly an involuntary one.

I became conscious of how utterly soft the skin sheathing that hard, unyielding rod was. It felt like velvet. I slid my hand upwards, now quite fascinated by the way he unconsciously responded to my touch, twitching hotly against my fingers.

Before I completely lost my nerve, I hitched up my skirt and climbed onto the bed beside him. When I had the garment hiked up around my middle, I straddled him, and positioned myself over his phallus.

As I felt it brush against the sensitive skin of my nether regions, I experienced another surge of heat coiling around my belly and hips. God, I felt so wanton, so unlike myself, and wondered if perhaps hormones were responsible for my actions, or the fact that I now inhabited such a beautiful young body. There was no way the Ruth Clarke of old would have dared try something like this on a half-naked comatose man, no matter how damn good he looked.

Since I'd had some experience with tampons and pap tests, I had no trouble easing him to where he had to go, but a sliver of fear managed to infiltrate as I felt the hard tip of him nudge against my opening. I was certain it was going to hurt like hell.

Suddenly I felt myself drop forward, as Jordan surged up in front of me, growling loudly. "Not like that. It will never work like that," he cursed, his silver-blue eyes flashing with a strange mixture of ire and something else I couldn't place.

I ended up in his lap as his arms came around me. He stared at me and shook his head. I could still feel his erection pressing hotly against the apex of my thighs, and once again it sent a surge of pleasure through me.

Now that his face was so close to mine I caught his scent, a mixture of something sweet yet powerful, something that wafted seductively over me, and I inhaled, filling my nostrils with it, feeling myself relax into his arms, my head coming to rest against his shoulder.

As Jordan glanced down at the small woman in his arms, he realized the Aging hadn't taken hold of him yet. His body still looked the same, and for a moment he dared to hope he still had enough time to curb its effects.

But what amazed him the most was Anita's selfless attempt to save him. It filled him with such warmth and tenderness all he could do was hold her small soft body against his.

Jordan knew as well as the next man how Earth females felt about his race because of The Treaty, despite the fact that most who ended up mated found peace with their partners in the end. Perhaps it wouldn't require quite so much from him to pleasure her enough to accommodate him for their first time together.

But suddenly he wanted to please her. Jordan longed to make her moan and writhe in delight. He could tell their connection was already working its magic on her, since she'd relaxed in his arms, and he inhaled the scent of her, that beautiful floral aroma that had drawn him to her in the first place, marking her as his mate. He had heard it described, but never knew it would be so potent.

Jordan continued to cradle her against him with one hand, and trailed the fingertips of his other hand up her spine and over her shoulder, to her chin, where he lifted her face to his. She gazed dreamily back at him, her eyes misted, showing how relaxed she was.

Yes, this wouldn't be so difficult after all, Jordan thought as he gently touched his lips to hers.

When I felt Jordan's lips against mine, I almost jerked back, but his hand against the back of my head prevented me from moving even an inch. Suddenly I realized I didn't want to.

Never having been kissed before, I had no idea it could taste so good, so sweet and heady, although I suspected it more to do with the fact of who was dong the kissing; a drop-dead gorgeous man who knew just how to do it.

His silky smooth lips continued to move seductively against mine, enticing me, urging me to taste more of him. Gently he nudged my lips apart with his soft tongue, which tasted even better, and I just had to draw it into my own mouth like the tastiest of morsels.

He moaned again, pulling me closer so my breasts brushed against his bared chest. I felt my nipples strain against the materiel of my gown by the contact. He felt as hard as rock, but was infused with such warmth that I wanted to bask in his heat.

As he held me tight, he continued to savor me, his tongue tracing the inside of my mouth, melding with mine as we drank in one another's nectar.

My hands seemed to move up out of my lap of their own accord, sliding up the front of the gaps in his silky shirt and gliding across his hot skin as they sought him out. My touch seemed to please him and another soft moan purred up his throat. He sounded more like a contented cat than a man.

Finally my questing fingers reached his wide shoulders, and I slid them into his hair, not surprised to find it felt as soft and silky as my own new blonde tresses. I simply had to comb my fingers through it as his lips left mine to glide softly across my cheek. He kissed his way down my neck, and the feel of his hot mouth against the sensitive skin made me squirm as waves of delight cascaded through me.

Then I felt his hand against my left breast, and a completely new sensation shot through me as his fingers stroked my nipple through the thin materiel. It was my turn to moan.

"Let me taste them," Jordan growled thickly against my ear, his hot breath tickling my cheek.

"What?" I had no idea what he'd asked. I'd never known so much physical sensation existed. Or was it Anita's body causing my responses? Whatever, it all felt so wonderfully intoxicating that I let him continue to muzzle my throat with his beautiful warm mouth.

"I want to taste you, all of you," he murmured, as he slid the strap of my gown from my shoulder. When I realized he'd bared my breast, my ingrained modesty made me want to cover myself, but Jordan had already bent his blonde head to my breast.

When he took my nipple into his mouth, a potent jab of fire shot through my chest. I drew back an involuntary gasp of pleasure, soon followed by another and another, as he traced his hot tongue around and around the tight bud.

"Stop, stop," I begged, grabbing his hair into fists. "It's too much. Too much."

"I haven't even begun," he murmured against my skin. He nudged the materiel away to bare my other breast.

Never in my life had I thought I'd end up in a situation like this; a gorgeous man suckling on my breasts as though it was his last meal. He continued to purr in that catlike way of his, and white hot bolts of fire kept flaring through me. I felt weak and disoriented, like I was drunk or stoned, two other things I'd never really experienced.

Suddenly I found myself on my back with him leaning over me. His long hair dropped forward as he balanced himself on his bent elbows, his massive shoulders blocking out the light.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes glittering silver as he gazed down at me.

His impassioned words brought tears to my own eyes. I knew the real me was anything but. I tried to reach up to dash the wetness away, but the way my arms were imprisoned between us, made it impossible to reach round him. I let them drop helplessly at my sides

"Tears?" Jordan queried, a frown forming on his brow. Before I had a chance to respond, he dropped a tender kiss against my damp eyelids, first one and then the other. "There's no need to cry, my lovely. I'll be gentle with you, always."

And I believed him. The soft, soothing rumble of his deep voice, and the gentleness he'd shown so far had already convinced me that he meant me no harm. I'd even begun to suspect I might actually enjoy this mating of ours, so why did I have to spoil it all by bursting into tears?

Because I wasn't the beautiful woman he thought I was. I was a fake, a fraud, masquerading as this gorgeous man's bride.

"Don't you believe me?" he asked, a note of doubt entering his gravelly voice.

"It's not that," I said, closing my eyes. I could no longer hold his gaze, seeing the glitter of desire for the perfect woman that wasn't me.

Suddenly I felt him shudder and my eyes blinked back open. His mouth had grown tight and the frown marring his brow deepened.

"What is it?" I asked in concern. "What's wrong?"

"The Aging, I think," he groaned, gritting his teeth. "It hurts."

Instinctively I tried to soothe him by running my hands up his back, feeling the hard play of muscles writing beneath his skin as he shifted uncomfortably. "Then we must put a stop to it right now." I moved against him, feeling the hard press of his erection against my thigh.

He groaned again. This time I was certain it was from desire, not pain. I moved my hips again, feeling quite aroused myself from the firm hard pressure of him against me. Liquid heat pooled between my legs, as my insides continued to quiver with shivers of pleasure.

"You're not ready yet," he murmured against my ear, at the same time gliding his right hand down my body, past my breasts, over the creased, tangled mess my gown had become, and down to my thighs, finally to slide into the very core of me. "Maybe I'll take that back," he groaned, as he slid a finger into me. "You're so slick and wet... but so very tight."

He was right. I could feel the pressure of his finger inside me. But it didn't hurt, and then he began to rub my juices over the outside, moistening that part of me I'd never been game to touch myself.

Of course I'd read about it, heard about it and how much pleasure it could bring, but like some Victorian Lady I had never dared touch myself except in the process of washing and taking care of the monthlies.

What Jordan did to me now far exceeded the pleasure I'd felt when he'd suckled on my breasts. It was so overpowering, so intense that I soon lost all sense or reason. I became sheer sensation, rocking against him, gasping and panting despite myself. I'd never felt so out of control before and if frightened as much as exhilarated.

"Stop, stop," I begged again. But he didn't, instead returning his mouth to my breast, sending more jolts of electricity through my body.

The pressure continued to build, lifting me higher and higher, until I was certain I'd pass out from complete loss of control.

And then it happened; my first orgasm ever. It surged through me in a burning rush, then ebbed into soft lapping waves that eased me back into such a relaxed state I couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to.

But nodding off was not an option, because Jordan increased the number of fingers inside me, making me conscious that he too needed his release.

"I wish we had more time," he murmured, as slid his fingers from me. I glanced up to see him part my thighs so that he could position himself between them. "But this is killing me."

"Then do it," I urged, my fear of it hurting only a numb reminder in the back of my mind. I was still on too much of a high from that awesome orgasm. Maybe it would also numb my insides should they not be able to accommodate him.

He was big, massive. I even had trouble wrapping my legs around him as he nudged his hard rod ever closer to my opening.

Then I felt him press against me, and slowly he eased into my passage, stretching me. Wider and wider I gaped, feeling like I would split right through the middle. But there was no pain, only the intense pressure of him filling me to capacity. Obviously Anita had done this before.

"Are you all right, my love?" Jordan asked gently, once he'd slid in all the way.

I nodded.

He obviously took that as his cue, because he drew himself back, only to thrust deeper into me.

It was finally happening. For the first time in my life I was having sex - and enjoying it. Yes, the feeling of him sliding in and out of me felt good, nothing like the orgasm, but it gave me a different kind of pleasure. I wanted to hold tighter onto him.

Instinctively I raised my hips to him, helping him to ram home. The harder he thrust, the more I wanted to feel him inside me. I couldn't believe it. I really wanted him connecting with me, joining with me, becoming one, this stranger I barely knew.

Jordan's skin became damp from perspiration. He gasped and shivered in my arms. His face grew flushed and his eyes glazed over as he pumped into me like a man possessed. He too lost control of himself, completely at the mercy of his body.

Then he convulsed, a low bestial growl tearing from his throat, and liquid fire shot into me, but pain wasn't the result. No, my whole body exploded into fireworks, shooting sparks into every organ, every pore, even the ends of my hair. It was way more intense than the orgasm, something so profound and powerful I clung to the man in my arms for dear life.

"Dear God! What the hell was that?" I gasped as Jordan collapsed against me, his big body pinning me under him.

It took him a moment to answer as he continued to breathe heavily into the pillow. His shaft still spasmed inside me, sending more trickles of that burning heat through me.

"My seed... my life-force," he replied at last, finally managing to lever himself onto his elbows. "Sorry, was I squashing you?"

"Just a little," I replied, as he rolled from me to collapse against the pillows. I noticed then that he still had his trousers and boots on, but his massive erection had subsided, once again looking healthy and pink as it nestled in its nest of blonde curls.

I snapped my eyes shut, realizing just where I had let my gaze linger. Since when had I become such a perv? I asked myself cynically, just as I remembered what Jordan had said.

"Um, does that mean I'm pregnant now?" I asked tentatively. Heavens, with all that alien life-force pumping into me, I was probably going to end up with king-sized half-caste quads.

Jordan rolled onto his side towards me, and I turned my head to meet his gaze. "We can but hope," he murmured, his expression intense. "But it rarely happens the first time. This time was mainly to infuse you with the Terron anti-aging hormone - that is if I had any left." He smiled wryly.

"You mean I won't grow old either?" I gasped in awe. Not only had I earned extra years by jumping into Anita's body, but it seemed that I would now remain youthful until my dying day.

"You really didn't read your notes, did you?" Jordan grinned. It was the first time I'd really seen him smile, and it made him look like a completely different person. The tight grimness that had surrounded him like a dark storm cloud had been washed out to sea, replaced with a much more relaxed and friendly man. I suppose gaining the release he'd been aching for and being assured he wouldn't grow old overnight had to be a massive weight off anyone's shoulders. He looked even more handsome, if that was possible, his silver-blue eyes once again bright and alive.

"I started to, but... I meant what I said at the ceremony. I'm really not supposed to be here," I said tiredly, suddenly feeling weary to the bone.

"I think you all feel that at first, but it will fade. I'll take care of you Anita. You'll want for nothing. I'll even let you visit your family back on Earth whenever you like," he tried to reassure me as he reached for the sheet to pull it up over us. It drifted down over me like a soft satin cloud.

"I don't have any family." I yawned hugely. 'I really should get out of this silly dress." But I was too tired to move.

"Allow me." Jordan sat up beside me and reached for the garment, easily sliding it down the length of my body, where I finally kicked free of it with my feet. He stopped to gaze down at me for a moment, but I reached for the sheet, yanking it back up. I really didn't want to hear him tell me how beautiful he thought I was.

Somehow I had to find a way to make this right. I wasn't meant to be here, married to this handsome alien man, possibly pregnant by him, definitely infatuated with him, and too damn tired to worry about any of it right now. I drifted off to sleep, with the sensation of him nestled beside me filling me with warmth I had never known.
Chapter Seven

When Jordan woke he became conscious of something warm against his back, the first thing that alerted him to how much his life had changed. The second was that the heat source appeared to be breathing deeply – another person.

Then he remembered. He was mated. He would not succumb to the Aging after all. And his woman was far more than he had expected. She had shown him kindness and concern he never thought her kind would display on their initial mating. It usually took months, sometimes even years for Earth women to acclimatize to the new lives that were so suddenly thrust upon them. He supposed because so many returned after their tour of duty, most expected to be amongst their numbers, not remaining behind to try and help the Terron race from dying out.

He wondered just what Anita had been though to act more like a Terron female than the pampered young misses he'd first seen her with. Even though she seemed so inexperienced in the ways of mating, she possessed an aura of someone much older, someone who had seen great pain and suffering. Well, she had told him she had no family remaining on Earth. Perhaps she'd seen them all die, or something equally as tragic. Well, they had plenty of time to get to know one another now, he thought as he rolled over to face her.

Jordan wasn't surprised to find her still fast asleep, curled up beside him with her delicate fair-skinned hand tucked up under her small pointy chin. As he drank in her lovely features, he wondered how she could deny the obvious, that she was an angel, a golden haired beauty with a perfect flawless complexion.

As for her body, Jordan felt himself harden at the memory of her perfect breasts, slender waist, and the soft feminine thighs she'd wrapped around him. But this time it was a normal reaction, not that desperate, life-threatening need to mate and thwart the Aging. Now they could make love at their leisure, after she had recovered from their first frantic coupling, of course. She hadn't complained once last night, but he was certain she'd be sore when she woke. And he was tempted to rouse her, to gaze into her pretty blue eyes and make her smile. But Jordan merely lay there watching her sleep. That in itself was enough for now.

It had been so long, so very long since, he'd been with a woman, let alone woken with one still in his bed. The loneliness had been crippling at times, but when Logan had joined him on the farm after they both had to give up their city jobs, life had improved. Although they had been close, their relationship just wasn't the same as having a life-partner, perhaps even children, an entire family.

When Jordan thought about his childhood, growing up in his parents' big airy house near the ocean, brothers and sisters always around to play with, he wondered how he'd ever gotten to this day.

His parents were gone now, after living to a healthy hundred and fifty-odd, but what had become of his siblings after the last big employment purge, he wished he knew. He supposed he could make some inquiries now he was in the Citadel, but doubted anyone in authority would release the information.

All able-bodied men were needed on the farms to grow and harvest Earth's ever increasing thirst for the Hytana oil. When he thought of the kind of work he'd been trained for, a deep sadness filled Jordan, because farming was so tedious and unrewarding.

Suddenly he realized that Anita's eyes were open, and she was staring back at him, looking too beautiful for words.

"Good morning," he said. "How are you feeling?"

She yawned and stretched, "Fine. How about you?"

"Never been better," He had to smile. "You're not sore, are you?"

Her fair brow puckered a little. "Why, should I feel sore?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly gentle with you," he reminded her. He thought he saw her cheeks reddened.

"Oh that." She shifted in the bed. "No, not sore at all."

"Hmm, well in that case..." he trailed off, deciding not to bother finishing his sentence. Instead he leant forward and kissed her, sliding his hand into her lovely soft hair. God, he loved the taste of her, the scent of her. As she responded to his kiss, her heady aroma surged up his nostrils, and he became much more aware that they were mated. He would only have to follow his nose to know where she was. The same would also apply to her, once she overcame her Earthean prejudices, but judging by the way she reached out to touch him with those delicate small hands, he didn't think there would be much of that. This lovely female seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. The feel of her soft warm palms exploring his skin soon had him groaning with pleasure as he moved in to kiss her peachy smooth cheek. She drew back a little and quirked an eyebrow at him at the sound.

"Yes, I like it," he told her, placing his palm over her hand where it had stopped against the centre of his chest. He began to move it again, sliding her fingers over his breast bone. "Touch me all you like, wherever you like. I'm all yours, from now till death do us part." He grinned when her other eyebrow quirked in question. "You think I might not take those vows seriously? We are not like Earth men. When we mate it is for life."

Jordan glided her hand down his stomach where he let it go, hoping like hell she'd take the hint and take him in hand. She did, her touch so delicate and soft that he growled out loud.

"You sound like a tiger," she giggled.

"A what?" he gasped as she continued to caress him with soft enticing strokes.

"You know, a great big striped cat."

"Oh one of those Earth creatures," he purred, basking in the pleasure of her soft gentle hands. "I thought they had all gone extinct."

"Oh – maybe. So what kind of creatures do you have here on Terron?"

She would have to ask that now, so he decided to tease her. "Great big scary ones with long hair and huge..." he paused for emphasis, coiling her hand firmly around him, where he began moving it up and down the way he liked. "Appetites!" he finished.

"Oh," she giggled, taking the hint, and tightened her grip. He jerked against her palm. "Yes, that is truly terrifying... I mean here we are, naked and intimate, and we hardly know one another."

"Our bodies know each other, and our minds will soon follow... Would you like me to show you some of Terron's creatures?" Jordan asked as she continued to massage him, increasing the pleasure he felt deep in his organ. Now that the urgency of their initial mating had been sated, Jordan relaxed, letting her wonderful little hands work their magic on him. He was also glad to see that she had a sense of humor, and that he'd already managed to draw it out.

"I'd like to see everything. Three days in the company of those giggling airheads was hardly enough to take in anything," she admitted. She never once let up on the rhythmic delight she was sending through him. It also pleased him to hear that she was curious about his planet. Jordan was already looking forward to showing her parts of his world that Earthlings hadn't managed to put their mark on yet.

"But first I want to show you pleasure, Anita," Jordan hissed as the intensity of what she was doing grew too much for him. He didn't want to come just yet, so he rolled onto her, pinning her beneath him. He rained tender kisses down her neck, her shoulders, over her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples until she writhed beneath him, her heady floral scent spiking as her pleasure mounted.

Jordan basked in that sweet aroma, reveled in it, knowing he was pleasing her. But he wanted to do more, so much more so that her wonderful feminine scent exploded all around him. So he moved lower, over her abdomen, dipping his tongue into her delectable little belly button. She squirmed and giggled, so he did it again.

He continued to move lower, and she pressed her thighs together as he neared the downy blonde triangle of curls.

"Oh, no you don't," he murmured, positioning himself in such a way that she had no option but to part her legs for him.

"What are you doing?" she asked uncertainly, as his hand found her breast again. Gently he trailed his fingers over her nipple. Clearly her previous lovers had never gave her true pleasure.

"You'll see." He kissed the inside of her thigh, inching ever closer to her hot moist core that called out to him with its siren's scent. Unable to hold back a moment longer, he ran his lips over her downy mound and thrust his tongue deep into her moist folds, tasting the ambrosia of her juicy nub.

She shuddered beneath him, and her hand gripped hold of his hair where it draped over her thighs. Jordan chanced a glance up the length of her body, those beautiful slender curves the color of pearls that felt like satin beneath his touch. She was gaping down at him in absolute wonder.

"No man has ever truly worshipped you before, has he?" Jordan just had to say it.

A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, and therein he had his answer. Anger burned hotly through his veins as he cursed those vicious Earthean men to Hell and back again. And they thought it cruel to pair their women with Terron men, when he knew for a fact they would never ever hurt their mates on purpose. The natural bond that formed between the sexes was simply too strong. Jordan vowed to find out who had abused her, and make him pay. Oh how he would make him pay! But right now he would make Anita's body sing.

Lowering his gaze, he returned to her wonderful woman's place, and teased her nub until she moaned with pleasure, all inhibition blown to the four winds. She bucked and gripped his hair in her fists, arching her back.

She came in an explosion of high keening gasps, filling his nostrils and his mouth with her blooming womanly aroma. He lapped up her juices as they poured from her, his own organ almost as hard and hot as it had been last night. He tried not to come himself, but knew it would be too quick if he mounted her now. So instead he laid his head against her thigh, gently circling her damp opening with his fingers, gazing up at her relaxed face, her expressive blue eyes now closed, and her breathing deep and even as she basked in the afterglow.

She has been well worth waiting for, he thought, as his own over-heated body cooled slightly, those painful hours yesterday, and all the long lonely years of emptiness, because she will never leave my side again for as long as she lives.

Then when he thought he could sustain himself for more than five seconds, Jordan climbed back onto her, positioning himself between her hot damp thighs. This time there was no reluctance. She parted for him, and lifted her hips in welcome.

"Oh Heaven," he groaned. "You're Heaven."

"You believe in the same God we do?" she asked as he slid unhindered into her tight hot channel.

"You ask me that now?" he growled, placing a kiss atop her brow. "I'll believe in anything you want me to as long as you..." Jordan didn't get to finish his sentence as she clamped down on him, taking him over the edge and into oblivion. He thrust once, twice, and exploded across the stars.
Chapter Eight

A soft beeping roused me from what had obviously been a light doze. I opened my eyes to see Jordan lever himself away from me. Cool air instantly replaced his heat, and I drew the sheet back up again, curling up against his broad back as he reached out to stop the irritating noise.

A voice emerged from an intercom; "We were wondering if the newlywed's would like their breakfast brought up to them?" a deep male voice inquired with a slight snigger.

"Take a hike, Logan," Jordan retorted, just as my stomach gave a long leonine growl. Jordan heard it and turned to regard me. "On the other hand, yes, perhaps that would be a good idea. What would you like, my love?" he asked me with a grin.

I shrugged. Everything they had served so far had been absolutely delicious. I had no idea why food tasted so good on Terron, but I wasn't about to question why, not unless it caused me to pile on the kilos now I had a man to look good for.

"Whatever comes," I murmured in response, shocked at myself for the direction my thoughts had taken. I could be spirited away in an instant, so Jordan was no more my man than he was Anita's, whoever she was, wherever she was. I realized I really had to do some digging to find out more about her. Perhaps the tablet in my luggage would reveal more. When I got time to study it I'd do some more research.

Jordan returned his attention to the intercom and recited a long detailed list of what sounded like everything on the menu. When he finished, he rolled back to face me, and said; "I'm absolutely starving."

"Must have been all that wild sex which did it," I teased him. I was already aware that he liked to laugh, and I also wanted to try and banish my wayward thoughts of earlier. Here I was, having mind-blowing sex with this Greek God of a man, and I was worried about the past. But then I'd always been a worrier. I blamed my mother for that. She had given me more than enough to fret about over the years. It would take some time to get her and all her negativity out of my system.

"No, I was too keyed up last night for dinner. Your appearance in my life kind of put a damper on my appetite, but–" He didn't get to finish his sentence as his own stomach rumbled like that tiger was absolutely famished.

"Now it's back with a vengeance, and you still sound like a great big cat!"

"How about we take a shower before breakfast comes?" Jordan threw the sheet back, and slid out of bed. He extended a hand to me.

"Now?" I asked. "Together?"

He nodded. "Yes now and yes together."

Suddenly I couldn't think of anything better. He looked so damn sexy standing there in the buff with his long blonde hair tumbling untidily about his powerful shoulders. As I placed my hand in his and watched it virtually disappear, I simply had to ask; "What the heck do you Terron men do to get so damn muscular?"

He hauled me easily out of the bed so that I came to my feet directly in front of him. "We just grow up this way, probably one of the reasons why your men dislike us so much. No Earth man has ever beaten a Terron male in hand-to-hand combat. And believe me, many have tried, usually jealous exes who've lost their women to the mating."

"Just as well I don't have a jealous ex then," I remarked as he pulled me up against his smooth hairless chest. Heavens, he felt good as my breasts flattened against his hard body. Once again I realized I was talking about Ruth. I had no idea who or what Anita had been forced to leave behind. I guess I should be glad that Jordan was such a strong, powerful hunk of a man. I really didn't fancy seeing him get roughed up by someone from Anita's past. "That's one-on-one, I presume. Most Human men like to attack when they've got strength of numbers behind them, so how would you fare if you had half a dozen Humans facing you?"

Jordan smiled down at me. "Trying to determine my worth, are you, little one? Don't worry, I'll always protect you..." Then he let his head drop back, before returning his attention to me. "Five, I would say. Anymore and I'd be pushing it."

"You could take on five Earth men in one go?" I gasped in awe.

"I've taken on groups before, usually when they're too drunk to know any better. But yes, I've knocked out at least five Humans in a single fight."

I gave an awed sigh. "My hero!" I smiled, sliding my arms around his waist to lean my forehead against his broad chest.

Jordan laughed, the deep rumble reverberating through his large frame as I hugged him.

"Shower time," he announced a moment later. He disentangled himself form me and headed for the bathroom, pulling me along in his wake.

"I want to use that bath." I pointed at the huge spa sprouting from a raised dais in the centre of the room.

"And I don't want cold breakfast. We can use it later. We'll be here for at least a week. Plenty of time for that," he reassured me as he stepped into an enormous shower cubicle with clear glass sides. Actually I doubted it was glass, probably something more like Perspex, I mused as I followed him inside. I doubted they would have anything as brittle as glass in the future. Neither did this particular shower have taps. I had grown used to the cubicles in this hotel after ending up resembling a drowned rat the first few times.

One merely had to press a button and beautiful warm jets of steam came at you from whatever side you turned to, or lifted your head to. Shampooing was something of the past too. Another switch released a lovely apple-scented cleanser for the hair and body, and a third switch controlled foot massagers that ran across the floor.

Towels weren't necessary either, as warm blasts of air shot out of vents at various intervals. The warm, fluffy sheets I'd seen supplied were for use after bathing. After my first few mishaps, I grew to enjoy it, and spent more than my fair share in there, much to the consternation of my former roommate.

Now I shared the shower with Jordan, who pulled me against him, and glided his big hands over my slippery wet skin. Still feeling shy and uncertain by all this touching and nakedness, it took me a moment to reciprocate. Besides I was beginning to enjoy his hands on me entirely too much. Neither did I know how he liked to be touched, although I'd gotten the hang of massaging a certain part of him quickly enough. I felt that part of him against me now, once again hard and insistent as it pressed against my now virtually non-existent stomach.

If only he knew, I thought for a sad little moment. He wouldn't be so aroused it he was holding the real me in his arms.

His huge palms cupped my rear, rocking me against him as water sluiced over our faces, and we gazed back at one another.

"I think I could stay like this for hours," he murmured as he bent his head to capture my mouth with his. Once again I was lost in the passion of his kiss. I didn't think I could ever get enough of tasting that beautiful mouth, but a voice in the next room, calling out that breakfast had arrived, reluctantly drew us apart. Our stomachs rumbled simultaneously.

We spent the rest of the day like this, laughing and eating, and then climbing back into bed to mate some more. When I asked Jordan why we weren't going out, he told me it was expected that newly mated couples stayed in bed for most of their honeymoon. I didn't complain again, particularly when he insisted on feeding me the evening meal that was brought to us at twilight. We went outside and sat on the terrace where a cool evening breeze washed over us, and watched the red sunset dip over Terron's thrashing deep blue ocean.

I had never felt so pampered in my life, and the fact that it was coming from such a drop-dead gorgeous male made it even more awesome. All he had on was a pair of loose green tie-up pants that hung low on his lean hips. He looked good enough to eat as he sat beside me and popped small portions of food into my mouth. Jordan looked relaxed, almost happy, as he attended to me like a servant. For someone who had been treated like one for as long as I could remember, it made me feel a tad uncomfortable.

"This is part of our custom," he explained as he fed me a ripe, plump strawberry. Well, it looked like a strawberry, but it tasted more like a juicy lolly.

"So when is it my turn to feed you?" I asked as I licked my lips, conscious of Jordan watching me intently, despite the dim light. The sun had just set, and stars were starting to speckle the sky like a child's paint dot picture, and the first of the planet's three moons was rising in the eastern sky. The other two, when they appeared, reminded me of that Dr Who episode when Earth had been dragged from its orbit and repositioned in a sky bristling with planets and moons. It was an eerie sight to someone who had looked up at the same night sky all their lives.

"You don't. I feed you, even when we are back at the farm, I will cook for you and serve your meals, and whenever possible, feed you from my own hand... Yes I know your world does it the other way round, but you are in my world now, and that is one custom I will not have it altered no matter how much you protest."

"Was I protesting?" I asked, knowing full well he'd seen my startled expression. But I'd never heard of men doing the cooking in any culture, or any period of time. The only men I knew who cooked got paid handsomely for it.

Jordan nodded as he picked up another slice of fruit that looked like mango, but tasted even better when he slid it into my mouth. Leaning closer, he followed it with his tongue, licking the excess juices from my lips. I shivered, not from cold, but delight. It was probably the sweetest most sensitive thing I had ever experienced. Just why was this beautiful man I barely knew being so nice to me?

I shifted in my chair, and sat back, so that he was compelled to break what had been very quickly turning into a very passionate kiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked, still with his face close to mine. "Do I not please you?"

"You please me way too much..." I trailed off, rubbing my hands over my face.

"Then what's the problem? You keep drawing back. Am I moving too fast for you?"

"I think we've already done just about everything imaginable, haven't we?" I said with a shaky laugh.

Jordan shook his head. 'We haven't even begun. We start by exploring each other's bodies. Then explore one another's minds. We learn to live together–"

"Oh, dear Jordan, if only I could," I said sadly, the whole scenario was so appealing, I really wished it would go on forever. I really did, but I still had no idea when Professor Jackson would get his act together and pull me out of Anita's mind!

Jordan placed both his hands against my thighs, forcing me to meet his silvery-blue eyes. They looked so beautiful in the half light. Due to the three moons, night time on Terron rarely grew darker than a badly overcast day on Earth. The second moon had risen and was casting Jordan's handsome face into stark relief. He looked even more gorgeous in the double light. I could fall in love with this man in an instant, I realized. I would return back to my cumbersome, middle-aged body with a broken heart if I didn't put some distance between us. And to do this I had to tell him who I really was.

"Look Jordan, I tried to explain this to you once before, but can you please hear me out now?" I tried to pry his big hands free of my legs.

Sensing that I needed some space, he withdrew them, and sat back in his own chair, crossing his arms over his brawny chest. "All right, tell me what you must."

"I'm not really Anita. My real name is Ruth Clarke, and I'm forty-nine years old." Of course he had to raise his brows at that, but I soldiered on regardless. "I'm from the year 2012, and I answered an ad in a science magazine to catch a glimpse of the future. I took part in an experiment which went wrong, because I was only meant to see the future, not end up in it. The professor put tinted goggles on me, and told he'd upped the power on his machine, or some such thing." I took a breath, well aware that Jordan still wore that disbelieving look on his face. "Well, I caught a glimpse of a space port, only I didn't know what it was then, not until I ended up sprawled on my back in said space port, with all those other young women staring around me, looking worried.

"I think Anita must have tripped and hit her head. That was when I somehow ended up with my whole mind catapulted into her body, instead of just seeing what was going on through the goggles. I'm sure the professor is trying to work out how to get me back right now... because I don't belong here." I spread my hands. "I've taken over someone else's body, and I have no idea what's happened to the poor girl's mind, if she's somehow stuck in here with me, trying to get out, or if–"

"Good Lord, that must be the craziest thing I've ever heard," Jordan exclaimed. "Taking over someone's mind! Time traveling from the past! Such things simply aren't possible."

"I didn't think so either, until it actually happened. Why won't you believe me, Jordan? I would love nothing more than to stay here with you forever. You're probably the nicest person I've ever met, but I don't belong here, and any day now I might have to leave you, and I just don't want to–"

"What are you hiding, Anita? Who are you protecting?" he demanded, suddenly back in my face, his hands gripping mine tightly.

"Nothing. No-one," I protested. Why wouldn't he believe me? He was an alien from the future, damn it! His race had invented space ships and wormhole travel! Why should time-travel be so much of a further stretch? Hell, I'd heard somewhere that wormholes could be used for time-travel!

Suddenly he sprung to his feet, taking me with him. "Where's your com-tab? I want to know who your family is - who you associate with. Who would have come up with such an insane story?"

"I-in my bag... but all you'll find out is who Anita is, not who I am," I mumbled as he pulled me back into the sitting room.

"Go, get it," he ordered, once again looking grim and tough, the gentle sweet man vanishing in an eye-blink. Well, I only had myself to blame for that. I'd cooled his ardor with my stupid blabbermouth, hadn't I? Heavens, if all this hadn't actually happened to me, I would have thought it crazy too. Well, he'd know for sure once I disappeared and Anita had her body back, both of them wondering what the heck had happened.

I simply couldn't cling to the hope that this was permanent. Somewhere in the bowels of the university in 2012 my body lay minus a brain, and if Professor Jackson didn't want to try and explain that to the authorities, he'd be trying his darnedest to get me back, wouldn't he?

Even darker thoughts of ending up without a body because he'd tried to hide the evidence did register briefly, but I pushed them aside. The Prof had been too keen to get somewhere with his invention. He'd be wanting to fix what had gone wrong, and trying to make it right. Right?

I found the tablet, along with Anita's passport and returned to the sitting room with it, where Jordan was sitting on the lounge, one ankle crossed over his knee, both brawny arms draped along the back of the seat. God, he looked magnificent. So much muscle and power writhed beneath that flawless tanned skin. If he wanted to, he really could break my neck with those strong hands. He had said he'd bested five guys in a fight. Riling him any further probably wasn't a good idea. But what did I know about the young woman whose body I wore? Pity little. What would Jordan unearth once he fired up the tablet? That Anita was a serial killer? I hardly thought so.

Swallowing, I held both items out to him, Dropping one arm he patted the seat beside him, which I took and perched on the very edge of. Jordan frowned at my action, but took the tablet from my hands. He shook his head at the passport.

"Don't you need a password?" I asked as his brow furrowed in concentration and his big fingers brushed over the device, activating different windows of information.

"I used to help design things like this," he muttered under his breath. "I don't need a... what did you call it? Password? That's a rather old-fashioned expression."

"Well, that's what we call it in my time."

Jordan glanced up briefly with narrowed eyes, before returning his attention to the tablet. Of course he still didn't believe me. "Besides, this is a public network." He tapped the device with a long dexterous index finger. "If you want to communicate privately I'm certain there are a whole host of other devices at your disposal on Earth. That's why we do such rigorous luggage and body searches at the spaceports."

I shuddered, recalling the rather undignified patting down I'd received on arrival. Even my ears and the inside of my mouth had been closely examined. Luckily the official had been a fellow female Human. The officials had used detecting wands to search for hidden devices, fortunately eliminating the need for that most humiliating of procedures, the full cavity search.

I watched Jordan studying the device, a frown steadily deepening on his patrician brow. After what he'd said about designing the tablets, I realized he was more than just a pretty face. Last night, when he'd been at the mercy of his body, I'd wrongly assumed he was just some lusty Neanderthal with only one thing on his mind. He was obviously more intelligent than I had given him credit for, probably even smarter than I was. So why couldn't I get him to believe the truth of what had happened to me?

"Well, well, well, Miss DeBugh," Jordan snorted, his tone growing hard. "Your father is a Liberal minister in the Senate, and you were engaged to be married to Oliver Rembrandt, son of Ian Rembrandt, pioneer of Rembrandt Industries, the biggest damn Hytana refinery in the southern hemisphere! Judging by this, I wouldn't hazard a guess your father tried very hard to get you out of your tour of duty."

"What?" I sidled closer, but Jordan held the tablet further away from me so I still couldn't see anything on it.

"I think you just might have started a God-damned diplomatic incident, Anita DeBurgh," Jordan declared grimly. I stared at him in shock. Not only did he look angry, but a sliver of fear flashed in his eyes. Slowly, disbelievingly, he shook his head.

"Wh – what do you mean?" I asked in a small tight voice.

"In coming here, you've turned your back on what was probably the biggest oil cartel merger in Australia's history. Your father just announced an increase in oil production by sending Earthlings to open up new farms in the northern districts of Terron-Tentonia... But of course you already know all this." He raked his fingers through his long bangs in frustration. "Oh yes, I can understand why you wouldn't want to be tied down to the likes of Rembrandt," he continued, more to himself than me. "He's a nasty piece of work, and I would hazard a guess his son is just as mean..." He looked at me. "But Hell, Anita! They're going to come here guns blazing, tearing the place apart looking for you so that Rembrandt and your father can get what they want... I should hand you over to the Administration right now and accept The Aging."

"But I thought we arrested The Aging?" I asked helplessly.

Jordan scowled at me. "Only as long as you remain by my side. Leave me for any length of time and it happens. If you die, it happens. If I die, you will age, although it wouldn't make any difference to you right now since our mating only just took place. We're linked, Anita, for better or worse, remember?"

"Then you can't hand me over to Anita's father!" I shuddered as Jordan at last laid the tablet down and I caught sight of a sleazy-looking middle-aged man with slicked back hair. I didn't know if he was Rembrandt or Anita's father, but he had evil slits for eyes, and a hard slash of a mouth, with receding black hair that had been combed to one side Adolf Hitler style. He had a dark bushy mono-brow and ruddy, fleshy jowls, seeming to suggest he wasn't a small or slender man.

A younger version of this unpleasant-looking individual appeared on the screen as I studied it - obviously Rembrandt Junior. He looked just as sleazy, but more muscular; a tough thug. On him, the mean, narrow eyes and mono-brow looked even more intimidating. He was wearing a leather jacket and his black hair buzz-cut short. His face was long and lean, but I could see that he'd probably end up looking very much like his father as he grew older.

"Good God, I have no idea what I'm going to do." Jordan tore at his hair again. Suddenly he sprung to his feet. "I need to get out of here for a while."

I watched him go, my heart knotted tight with anxiety and confusion. Suddenly I longed for the safety of my dark silent house, now more convinced than ever it would be a long time, if ever, before I saw it again.
Chapter Nine

Jordan shrugged on the loose shirt he'd fished off the edge of the bed, and began pacing the corridor outside the hotel room, his nimble mind racing through scenarios and possible solutions the way it had when he'd worked in Terron's main Technology Centre. Unfortunately they all led to the same conclusion; take Anita to the Administration building, and accept his fate. Surely enduring the Ageing was better than being executed by those oil-tycoon thugs?

When he'd teased her about thwarted exes, never in his wildest imaginings would he have thought up something like this. But her crazy tale about time travelling here from the past... Jordan could only shake his head. That was as big a lie as her demure and innocent act. Heavens, the woman had behaved as though she'd never had a lover in her life, until he'd filled her up. Then the truth had come out. She knew men. She knew them well enough to spin him a tale of science fiction proportions.

Jordan growled to himself under his breath. Clearly he'd been too worked up from the mating to see the bloody obvious. That she'd played him for a fool. The Aging would only hurt him. Anita had just gone through the change so she wouldn't feel much different when she returned to Earth. There was no way the likes of her would stay on Terron.

She had something else planned, other than thwarting that nasty-looking Rembrandt out of a wife. Were he Anita, he wouldn't want to marry someone like him either, although from what Jordan had heard about Earth marriages, they could be in name only, simply to fulfill some kind of bargain or deal, and annulled just as easily.

Like hell she will, Jordan thought grimly. He had had enough of the Treaty and Earth milking Terron for all it was worth. He was sick of cultivating Hytana like a god-damned serf, fed up to his back teeth of seeing his fellow Terrons losing their jobs to the Humans so they could be out-posted on those damn farms.

Anita's father's declaration had given him an idea, and with purposeful strides he sought out Logan, whom he knew wasn't leaving until tomorrow.

Jordan knew it was a long shot, and he was only one man, but he'd carried some pretty heavy influence back in the old days. And so had Logan. Now if only he could come up with some dirt on DeBurgh. Human businessmen were notorious for their underhanded schemes. But Jordan had more than one old friend still working in Administration. And the law was the law. Not even Earth could break that.

I sat on the lounge studying the tablet Jordan had dropped in irritation before stalking from the room. I thought of trying to find out more about Anita and her family, but as I studied her fiance's sneering face, I kept thinking about my own life, wondering how time travel had been possible three hundred years ago but not now.

The picture on the tablet vanished, and in their place appeared an article titled; Time Travel – Still a Distant Dream.

"No it's not," I grumbled in irritation. I decided to alter my thought processes so that the damn device would co-operate. "All right, attempts at time travel," I hissed at it.

Expecting to see rows of data, only one short entry appeared on the screen.

Professor Leon Jackson disappears after failed attempt at time travel causes major brain damage to volunteer subject, Ruth Clarke, sending her into a coma.

"What?" I had to reread the words again to confirm I'd read it correctly. "Major brain damage?" I shrieked. I felt sick to my stomach. "Major brain damage?!" My brain was perfectly fine, thank you very much! It was just anchored within someone else's body right now. I clasped trembling hands to my head as I struggled to read the rest of the article, but all I could think about was that awful line; major brain damage. I had suffered major brain damage.

Somehow I managed to read everything there was about me, unfortunately not much. In a subsequent report, they switched off my life support and allowed me to die on... I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved the tablet onto the floor with a clatter.

I couldn't read any more. I realized with a dreadful sinking feeling that I could never go back. There was no more me to go back to. Professor Jackson had killed me with his insane time machine experiment and then gone on the run.

But most tragic of all was there would have been no one to mourn me. My parents were gone, and I didn't have any real friends. Any other relatives would probably never even have known, and my old mountain house would have ended up in the government's hands. Poor Ruth Clarke would have received a pauper's funeral, with no-one at her grave site bar a state-appointed celebrant to send her on her final lonely journey.

I began to cry softly as I mourned for myself. I know it might seem crazy to some, since I was sitting there whole and healthy, but since I didn't know how long my loan of Anita DeBurgh would last, my brain could very well follow my body into death at any time. After watching movies like The Matrix, and the series Life on Mars, I began to wonder I was really dreaming all this in the last minutes before they pulled the plug on me.

Suddenly the intercom beeped, jerking me from my maudlin thoughts. I pressed the door release and jumped to my feet to welcome Jordan back with my news.

However, when the door to the hotel suite slid open, it wasn't Jordan standing there, but at least half a dozen uniformed men bristling with weapons. I took a step back, wondering what on earth these cranky-looking soldiers wanted with me. Two were Terrons, but the rest were definitely Human, and I'd never seen any of them before in my life.

"Anita DeBurgh, we've come to escort you back home," the leading Human male declared. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties with receding brown hair. Brown eyes, and brown military fatigues competed the image of a non-descript, forgettable male, probably the look he was aiming for. "Obviously you didn't get your waiver in time," he added in a cynical tone.

"Waiver?" I parroted, continuing to step back as they advanced towards me.

Even though none of the Human men raised their weapons, they kept their hands on various rifle butts and holsters. Only the Terron men stood guard with their sleek, silver blasters at the ready. I doubted even Jordan, who claimed to have bested this many men in single-handed combat, would want to mess with these guys. And neither did I. I desperately glanced round, checking if I could escape into the bedroom and lock the door before they caught me.

"We can do this peacefully or we can use force." Mr Brown continued to advance on me. "Which will it be?"

Two of the men stepped around the lounges to block my escape into the bedroom. So much for that idea, I thought grimly. "I guess it will be peacefully," I said at last. Where the hell was Jordan when I needed him?

"All right, grab her gear and let's get going," Mr Brown commanded.

One of the pair who had gone around the back of me disappeared into the bedroom to do his bidding. Since I had hung my clothes in the wardrobe and laid out all my cosmetics and toiletries, I knew it would take him a few minutes.

"Actually, I could do with some shoes." I glanced down at my bare feet.

The other man followed the first and returned a moment later holding a pair of my embroidered slippers in one hand as though they were contaminated. I snatched them from his fingers and dropped them onto the ground where I stepped into them.

Come back, Jordan, I willed desperately inside my head. Despite our recent argument, I felt much safer with him. I really didn't like the idea of being dragged back to Earth to marry that sleazy Rembrandt. I almost wished we hadn't looked into Anita's history. If I'd thought the Treaty was bad, what they had planned for Anita was definitely worse. Since I now knew Jordan to be a good and decent man, I preferred to take my chances with him. I doubted Rembrandt junior had a tender bone in his body.

It didn't take the soldiers long to bustle me from the suite, with one man pulling my suitcase along behind him. Once we were in the corridor, I glanced around, hoping against hope to catch sight of Jordan, but the place appeared to be deserted. Had these military thugs ordered an evacuation?

I knew the insulation in this place was excellent; neither of us had heard a thing from any of the adjoining rooms. I doubted yelling for help would do me any good, but I couldn't help sobbing Jordan's name as Mr Brown jerked me towards the elevator.

Anita. Is that you?

It sounded very much like Jordan was talking to me via a set of stereo headphones. His voice inside my head had sounded out as clear as a bell.

"Yes, where are you?" I murmured out loud.

"Will you keep quiet?" Mr Brown growled at me.

I'm still with Logan... I don't believe this. We're mind-linking! I heard him as clearly as though I was listening to him through my I-pod headphones. I've heard of this happening between deeply-linked Terron couples, but never between Terrons and Earthlings.

Jordan, I thought loudly and clearly, trying not to use my mouth. I hoped this mind-linking, telepathy thing was a two-way process.

Yes, I'm here, Anita.

Then get yourself over here. Five men are taking me back to Earth. We're at the lift... It's here. They're making me get inside. They've got guns, Jordan, I warned him as Mr Brown shoved me in ahead of him. Big ones.

They won't use them to kill, merely stun, but I don't think these guys you've described are the sort who play fair.

Are you going to save me or not, Jordan, I thought fearfully as the lift started its descent.

Jordan would have whooped for joy had he not been so worried about Anita. The ability to mind-link with one's mate was so rare and unique, he doubted Earthlings had any idea it was something Terrons could actually do. He had to ensure Anita kept it that way. He knew he couldn't let them take her from the planet unless he was with her. Better still he'd do as she'd asked; he would rescue her. The fear in her telepathic message had been palpable. She didn't want to return to Earth any more than he wanted her to.

These Rembrandts were bad news, and Jordan was going to get to the bottom of whatever they were up to. Blackmail came to mind. Why else would Anita's father have decided to marry her off to the son? And if it involved Hytana oil, it meant trouble for Terron.

One of the reasons Jordan had been dismissed from his position in the Administration was because of his ability to think like an Earthling. Because Human men weren't bound by the mating call, they were free to think only of themselves. They didn't have to consider their partner, and from what Jordan had heard, some females on Earth were not treated well at all. Then it stood to reason that they were in no hurry to return once they were mated to their Terron males. Pity so few of them ever relayed the news back to their families on Earth, instead allowing suspicion and prejudice to proliferate.

After his discussion with Logan, they agreed to rally several of their old colleagues who still worked for the Administration. Even though it was the middle of the night, Logan was already working hard making connections and calling in favors. Now Jordan just had to get some of his own buddies together with even bigger guns. That would prove an even harder challenge.

Jordan realized that he would have to leave his old friend behind, because Logan was no longer agile enough for any extended physical activity. Still Jordan hesitated at the door.

"Go, get on with it," Logan urged. "I'll be of more use here rallying the troops. Go get your woman and leave me to do the rest."

Jordan sighed. "Thank you. Take care."

"I should be the one saying that, but knowing you, you'll risk life and limb... but please try to come back in one piece."

"I'll do my best," Jordan said grimly, knowing things could get very ugly indeed, particularly since he didn't have a plan, other than to follow Anita and try to rescue her. His last glimpse of Logan was of his grey head bent over his com-link. He was already hard at work on his side of the rescue mission. Now Jordan just had to get on with his.
Chapter Ten

Jordan rushed into his empty hotel room, scooping his jacket from the back of the chair on the balcony where such a short time ago he'd sat with Anita, enjoying their honeymoon. A glance into the bedroom proved that someone had recently packed up in there. The wardrobe doors hung open, only his clothes still inside. Not a single thing of Anita's remained.

Patting his pockets confirmed that his com-link was still there. Obviously no one had thought to step outside, or Anita had managed to distract them sufficiently. Like the tablets the Earthlings carried with them, Terron com-links not only provided wide-spread communication, they were also loaded with masses of encrypted Terron information Earthlings knew nothing about.

As he hurried back through the living area, Jordan saw Anita's tablet lying on the floor next to the lounge. Odd, he thought. That should have been the first thing she would have taken with her. Jordan scooped it up, and was about to shove it into another convenient pocket when he saw a rather old-looking middle-aged man wearing a long white coat. The caption underneath was all about the man's failed time-travel experiment. Ah, so that was where Anita had gotten her Ruth Clarke story.

Jordan, they've taken me down to the hotel basement. They're making me get into one of these hover car things. Anita's concerned mind-link had him out the door and down the corridor to the elevator bank in seconds.

I'm coming, Anita. As soon as this damn lift arrives, he thought irritably to himself. Who else could possibly be using them at this time of night? He started to step impatiently from one foot to the other, wondering if Anita's abductors had sabotaged them to slow him down.

Finally a lift arrived, and he hurried inside, jabbing his finger against the button for the basement where all the hovers were parked. Jordan knew he couldn't use his own hover. Being standard issue, it was instantly recognizable, and would reveal that he was following them. No doubt they would take action accordingly, such as blasting him out of existence. He hoped Anita would be able to direct him through their ability to mind-link. Then he could remain at a safe distance. But she didn't know her way around the Citadel the way he did.

One thing at a time, he told himself. Raching the basement before they were too far ahead of him was the first step. Even though the elevator sped him straight to his destination, it still felt like an age.

When the door finally slid open, Jordan stepped out cautiously, but he couldn't see anyone and didn't hear anything out of the ordinary as he surveyed his surroundings.

Neat rows of hovers greeted him, various sizes and various makes, gleaming under the overhead lights. What I wouldn't give for one of those Admin issue hovers right about now, he thought as he eyed the sleek silver vehicles parked in a separate section reserved for the elite soldier corps.

A soft hiss behind him alerted that another elevator had arrived. Jordan ducked behind the nearest hover. To his surprise, Anita's attendant and her mate stepped out. As Jordan tried to recall their names, they quickly made their way to the reserved section.

Crouched low, Jordan followed them, using his row of hovers as cover. Anita, what was the name of the woman who got your ready for our ceremony? he asked her.

Ah, Dana, I think, But why do you want to know? We're outside and flying away from the hotel. Where are you?

Still in the basement. But don't worry. I'm getting a hover right now. Well almost, he added to himself. What I wouldn't give for their hover and his weapon, Jordan thought, hungrily eying the big silver blaster Dana's mate carried loosely in his hands.

Suddenly the soldier turned, swinging the blaster in Jordan's direction.

"What the - " Dana began.

"Shh," her man hissed, pushing her behind him. Being so much smaller than him, she immediately disappeared from view.

"I know someone's there, so do I shoot now and ask questions later, or-"

"It's just me, Jordan Demantena." He rose to his feet and stepped out past the hover he'd been crouching behind.

Even though he lowered the blaster slightly, the man still eyed Jordan suspiciously. He wore his black uniform with pride, showing at least six impressive gold runes on each shoulder. His shrewd brown eyes narrowed as he regarded Jordan, obviously thinking he was up to no good. Not a man to mess with, Jordan thought, and definitely one to have on your side, if only he could convince him that his side was the right one!

"What the devil are you doing down here at this time of night?" the soldier demanded.

"I'll get straight to the point, shall I?" Jordan said. "Anita's been kidnapped by three Earth men and two of your guards."

The man glared suspiciously, hefting his blaster to point directly at Jordan.

"I'm down here to try and go after her." As he spoke, Jordan already felt the pull of distance, the only way he could describe the heavy weight that seemed to descend on him and make him feel sluggish and unsteady.

"On your own? With no weapons?" Now the man was taunting him.

"Look, I don't have time for this," Jordan snapped. "Not long before they came for her I discovered that her father's very high up in the Australian Government, and in cohorts with Rembrandt's Hytana oil shipping company. They obviously want her back for a good reason, if they're willing to risk breaking the Treaty for her." Jordan had no desire to tell these virtual strangers about Anita's arranged marriage to Rembrandt's son.

Dana's mate's frown deepened still further, and then suddenly he shouldered his weapon and held out his hand to Jordan. "My name's Derek Oustana. And this is my mate Dana Smith." He placed one massive arm around her slender shoulders, and with his other hand pointed his com-link in the direction of one of the elite hovers. The side door of the vehicle slid open to reveal its plush, roomy interior. "Shall we take a ride?"

"Oh come on, you're not taking me into custody. I wouldn't lie about something this important!" Jordan stepped back in protest.

"We're going after your mate, so are you with us, or not?" Derek smiled thinly, obviously enjoying himself.

"Bastard," Jordan grumbled, but preceded him to the hover. He climbed inside and took the back seat. Derek and Dana got into the front. With a click and a whirr, they were air-borne and gliding through the basement towards the exit.

"Any idea which way they're heading?" Derek asked as they shot out of the underground carpark and up into the night.

"No, but Anita should be able to tell me. We can mind-link," Jordan blurted out. Obviously the distance between them was not only making him feel sluggish and clumsy, but also addle-brained.

Dana turned in her seat to stare at him, and Derek gasped; "You lucky bastard!"

"Yeah, we only discovered it when she was kidnapped, and she got distressed. I'll ask her now where they are." Jordan was glad his admission hadn't backfired on him. But now that he thought about it, revealing the truth had not been such a bad thing. No doubt the pair would have started questioning where he was getting his information from anyway.

I've got transport now, Anita. I'm on my way. Any idea where you are and which way you're heading?

They've just set down the Terron guards, Anita told him. I don't know why. Maybe they don't want them to know where we're going. To tell you the truth, I don't know where we are. This city is just so vast.

Are you north, east or west? Jordan asked, knowing south only led to the ocean. He hoped they were headed for the spaceport, but doubted it, since there wouldn't be any flights back to Earth until the morning, and this was an unofficial departure. There were most likely going to hole up somewhere to get unauthorized documents together.

I don't know Jordan. I'm sorry.

All right, what does the place they let the guards off look like? Jordan asked.

Just like any city corner. Your streets don't have any names, and I can't read your language on the buildings.

All right, what do the guards look like?

How's that going to help?

Just tell me.

One has really blonde hair, almost silver, and the other is black haired. They're complete opposites... Oh wait, there is something here that might help. We just passed a garden, with lots of things for children to play on. It has the biggest slippery dip I've ever seen.

"Yes," Jordan said out loud. "That's exactly the kind of information I need. They dropped the guards off at barracks opposite the Children's Castle Park."

"Back home to bed, eh?" Derek remarked drolly. "I don't think so." As he maneuvered the hover past tall buildings at a breakneck pace, he barked some orders into his com-link. "Yes, Blake and Samson, I want you out the front and waiting for me, pronto. You have a lot of explaining to do."

Jordan grinned to himself. Obviously Derek was their commanding officer, and those two men were now in deep, extremely hot water. He couldn't have found a better partner to help him out on his rescue mission. "Thanks for believing me, Derek," he said.

"No worries. I had a suspicion those two were moonlighting. Now that it's confirmed I will be stripping them of their weapons in about fifteen seconds."

The hover quickly descended and came to an abrupt stop outside the army barracks. Across the road, Jordan saw the dark silhouette of the children's amusement park.

"Wait here," Derek ordered both Jordan and Dana as he released the door and sprang from the vehicle. Jordan watched him march up to the two men waiting nervously on one side of the main doorway.

It took Derek no more than a minute to relieve the two soldiers of their weapons and dismiss them from the army, ordering them to start walking home and explain their disgrace to their families when - and if - they got there.

When he returned to the hover, he threw one of the blasters in Jordan's direction. "Know how to use one of these?" he asked as he shoved the other weapons on the floor behind his seat.

"It's been a while, but I'm sure it will come back to me." Jordan grinned as he enjoyed the feel of the big weapon in his hands. He examined all the settings and power-packs, deciding it was definitely top of the range, and far more advanced than the blaster he still had back at the farm. It was lighter than it looked, having been made from an extremely tough titanium alloy.

"I'm going to drop you off now, Dana," Derek said, setting the hover into gear.

"Oh no, Derek, I want to come," the small woman protested.

"This could get dangerous, love," Derek insisted, as they shot up into the night once more. "I did manage to get this much out of those two," he said over the seat at Jordan. "They said the Humans were heading east."

"I know," Jordan replied, because the sluggish feeling had eased. Anita wasn't as far away from him as she had been previously. He wondered if he could focus on this connection, use it to home in on her.

"Anita might need a female companion," Dana asserted. Jordan smiled to herself as he laid his weapon across his knees. The woman wouldn't leave her mate for anything. "Besides, what's if they take her so far away from me you start to suffer the distance, and can't perform your duties to you optimum potential?"

"Damn it woman, why do you always have to argue? I doubt they'll take her to the other side of the planet tonight! I'm sure they will want to get her to the spaceport some time tomorrow."

"Why don't you just put out an all points alert instead of chasing after her yourself?"

"Because they would have very good fake Ids and reasons for doing what they're doing. If they are ruthless enough to kidnap her in the middle of the night, who knows what kind of technology they've stolen? Of course I'm going to put out a silent alert. I'm also calling for backup from the Dominion Barracks."

"So does that mean I can come with you?" she persisted.

Derek reached behind his seat and handed Dana the other blaster. "I rue the day I taught you how to use these things." He turned to grin at Jordan. "She's almost as good a shot as I am," he said proudly.

"Speaking of technology," Jordan prompted. "Are we cloaked? I heard these new hovers are undetectable."

"Of course we're cloaked. We have been since we left the barracks. But I'm also willing to bet those goons we're following are as well, since they took off with that idiot Blake's hover. So, any more news from Anita on their whereabouts?"

A tight knot of anxiety settled in my stomach like a badly digested meal as we sailed through the night. Part of it was air-sickness, since we seemed to fly about like a drunken bird. I strongly suspected these guys didn't know how to pilot a hover car properly. But mostly it was due to the dread that dogged me, since I had no idea where we were going and what these idiots were going to do with me when we got there. Even though there were now only three of them, I held little hope of escaping them and the array of weapons they still packed. We were many metres above the ground, Even if I could get a door open, the fall would kill me.

Now that I knew what had befallen my true self, I had no real desire to return to Earth, and even less to end up married to Rembrandt Junior. I had just been married. Didn't that count as bigamy? But I strongly suspected Anita's government official father would find some way of annulling my marriage to Jordan, just as much as he'd planned this kidnapping.

Just what kind of a nightmare had I managed to get myself into? I wondered as I began gnawing on an already ravaged fingernail. As Ruth I'd been a nail-biter, and it seemed this nervous habit had returned, even though I'd really appreciated Anita's lovely long nails. Guiltily I withdrew the digit, and began chewing on a stray lock of hair instead. Anyone would be agitated if they were in my shoes, I thought, so biting nails and gnawing on hair was wholly excusable as far as I was concerned.

I hadn't heard from Jordan in a while, not since I'd told him we had left the massive sprawling city behind, and were now flying over farms and smaller settlements. These didn't appear to be hytana farms – they weren't big enough.

In the half-light of the three Terron moons I realized they grew other kinds of crops, mostly the fruit and vegetables that tasted so much better than anything I'd eaten on Earth during my formative years. If only those wonderful Terron foods had been available when I was growing up, I'd never have developed such an aversion to 'healthy' meals and devoured them by the plateful, never putting an anywhere near as much weight as I had.

Why was I even thinking about my past? I was never going to get my podgy body back now. I supposed I was having such odd thoughts because there wasn't anything to do except think and fret as we careered through the night.

In fact I was starting to feel so sick that I thought I might puke. Throwing up on the unpleasant man sitting beside me, still with his weapon aimed in my direction, might have given me a small sense of satisfaction in the split second before he reflexively pressed his trigger, putting me out of my misery permanently.

I took a breath, trying to curb my rolling stomach. Some fresh air would have helped, but all I could smell was the rank body-odor of my companions. It dawned on me then that Jordan didn't smell anything like an Earth man. His scent was always so enticing, sweet and erotic at the same time. Perhaps it was because we were mated that every other man now smelt off to me. I had to admit the whole Terron male partner thing had a lot going for it, particularly since nature had made them so attractive in the first place.

Anita, Derek just had an idea. After so many minutes of silence, Jordan's voice inside my head startled me.

Yes Jordan, I responded. Please make it a good one, like you've just discovered you can teleport me out of this craft! I thought to myself.

Can you see the control panel from where you're sitting?

I shifted a little in my seat, not wanting to draw the attention of the guy sitting next me. Craning my neck a little, I saw the console, lit up with bright flashing lights and digits. Most looked like hieroglyphics, but some were numbers. Yes, I can see it.

Good. In the centre there's a readout that could show the same numbers on it constantly. If these numbers are there, they will be the co-ordinates of their destination. I'm hoping they programmed it in, since they're not natives and hardly seem to know how to fly.

Yes, they're making me quite air sick, I replied, hoping I could find the numbers he meant and actually read them. I shouldn't have worried. As Ruth I would have had trouble without my glasses, but Anita appeared to have near perfect vision. It reads 45:57:19. Does that help?

Silence came from his end, and then, after about a minute he said; Perfect thanks. But why they would want to rendezvous in the middle of the Bengalona Forest is beyond me!

It's nice and quiet and no one can see them, I thought back, seeing nothing but a dark vista of trees below us.

That's it. Keep your spirits up. Derek's programmed the coordinates into our hover. We'll be with you soon. He was obviously trying to reassure me, and hearing his voice did help to allay my fears a little.

"We're almost there," the guy in the front passenger seat said as he peered out of his side window down into the wilderness below us.

"Where?" Mr Brown demanded from the driver's seat. "I can't see anything."

"That's because all the lights have been turned off, but I just spotted the clearing, and the tracker your guys set says we're here."

"All right. All right, Then guide me down. Flying these things is a nightmare."

So they didn't fly these craft on Earth. I could just imagine the nightmare traffic chaos all those hovercars would cause, particularly with the amount of road rage Sydney's congested streets had suffered in my time. Taking to the air would only have made things worse. It did make me wonder just what kind of transport system they did have on Earth now. After suffering for so long with fuel shortages until the discovery of hytana oil, maybe they'd finally had the sense to make public transport more reliable.

After some more stomach-lurching twists and turns, as well as a bone-jarring ride across some rough ground, we finally came to a halt in a clearing, surrounded by the tallest trees I'd ever seen. This was probably why they had chosen to hide a space shuttle here. Those enormous trees would conceal it from every angle save directly above. I assumed the craft taking up most of the clearing was a shuttle. It looked like a small jet with extra large engines, a ramp lowered for easy boarding.

As my gun-toting companion ordered me out, I wondered how I could delay their departure long enough to enable Jordan and his team time to arrive. Since I had no idea how far behind me they were, I didn't know how much time I had.

Instead of obeying his order, I bent double, and groaned. "I feel too sick to get out right now, thanks to your partner's stunt driving."

"Oh come on!" He nudged me with the butt of the blaster. It should have got me moving, but I really did still feel queasy, and in no hurry to test my rubbery legs, not unless he really did threaten to shoot me with that thing. Even though Jordan had told me they wouldn't use their weapons to kill, I figured being 'stunned' wouldn't be particularly pleasant either.

We're here Jordan. And they're making me get out of the hover now. When do you think you will you be here?

We're over the forest. The tracker is counting down quickly. A few minutes. What kind of craft have they got? Terron or Earthean?

How should I know? I asked in frustration, gazing at it again. To me it just looked like a large, souped-up jet fighter from my own time, with that pointy nose and swept back wings.

I thought I heard Jordan make an exasperated noise inside my head, but since I didn't think we could communicate emotions, merely our thoughts, I suspected it had probably been something from outside.

"What's the hold up back there?" Mr Brown demanded from the now open side door.

"She's complaining about feeling sick from the ride."

"Just great," Mr Brown muttered. "We're already behind schedule. "Just carry her, you idiot."

"Don't you dare touch me," I snarled at them. "I'll get there. Just give me a minute." I made a big pretence of breathing deeply, and then looking around for my shoes. Surreptitiously I nudged one further under the seat. "Has anyone seen my other shoe? I'm not going out there in bare feet. That grass looks awfully spiky.

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Mr Brown shoved the other guy aside to begin groping around under the seat. "Here it is!" He shoved the slipper into my hands.

I put it back down onto the floor, and slowly slipped my foot into it, knowing I had prevaricated enough. "All right, I think I can stand now." As slowly as I dared, I inched across the bench seat to the open door, and climbed out of the vehicle. I thought better of pretending to sway, since I didn't want any of them to lay their hands on me. But I did walk as slowly as I thought I could get away with towards the craft.

Clearly this wasn't fast enough for Mr Brown, because he grabbed hold of my arm. "You can feel sick all you like once you're strapped into your seat. Now come on." As he jerked my arm, he stumbled to one side, his weapon hitting the rough stony ground with a clatter. I stared down at him in disbelief, wondering if his own stunt driving had made him sick enough to suddenly pass out cold for no apparent reason.

As I turned to the guy on my other side, I saw him spin around and aim his blaster into the darkness, but he didn't get to fire a single shot. He too toppled over backwards, his body jerking once as he was stunned into silence. At least I hoped he was only stunned. Since I hadn't heard a single shot, I wasn't entirely sure what was going on around me.

Then I saw the most wonderful sight imaginable. Jordan was running towards me, a massive blaster of his own clasped in both hands, powerful legs pumping, long blonde hair whipping back from his determined face as he ate up the distance between us.

As I began to run towards him, he skidded, coming to a halt as his left leg buckled under him. Despite the dimness of the night, I saw blood bloom against the fabric of his light blue trousers.
Chapter Eleven

"No!" I screamed, turning to see who had shot Jordan, but the Human male was already tumbling down the ramp out of the space-craft, no doubt stunned by one of Jordan's companions.

Another Terron male was already running past me to check if there were any more aboard the ship. He looked vaguely familiar.

I reached Jordan at the same time as another woman did. "Dana!" I gasped, recognition dawning. The man who had entered the craft had to be her mate.

"Yes, hello Anita. I think I had better get the medical kit!" She followed my gaze down to Jordan's leg, which he was now clutching in both hands, trying to staunch the blood flow.

"Who said they would only shoot to stun? That blast was lethal, damn it!" she added over her shoulder as she began to jog back to her own hover. I hadn't noticed it until now, parked beneath overhanging branches on the other side of the clearing. As I watched her, two other vehicles shimmered into view as if by magic. I rubbed my eyes, not believing what I was seeing.

But I had no time to ponder them further because Jordan groaned, and I crouched down beside him to slip my arms around his shoulders and bury my face against his wide shoulder. I was so relieved to see him again and realized just how much I'd come to care about him in the short time we'd known one another. I strongly suspected the bond he claimed only to affect him really was a two-way thing, because all I longed to do was kiss him all better again.

It wasn't until Dana had returned carrying a rather large kitbag that he let go of his injury to return my embrace. He crushed me against his big body, and covered my mouth with his, kissing me hard and fierce. It felt like heaven to be back in his powerful arms and feeling his lips and tongue mesh with mine. His wonderful masculine aroma clouded around me, infused me, and for a moment I forgot that we were sitting in the middle of a dark forest with him bleeding all over the place, and other people running everywhere.

"Thank the lord we got to you in time," he murmured against my lips. "I am so damn happy to see you... owww."

We both glanced down to see Dana place something against his wound. It looked like a square piece of clear gel. To my amazement I watched the blood flow ease and the wound begin to close underneath the jelly-like substance. Another amazing piece of twenty third century technology, I couldn't help thinking. Just like the invisible hovers.

Within minutes Jordan's leg was healed, but his trousers were still a mess. Another minute later, he set me away from him, and scrambled to his feet, testing his leg.

"Good as new," he declared, grinning at each of us in turn. How I loved that big, bright smile of his. "Now, that is a Terron ship, Anita." He motioned to the craft. "Mind telling me why you couldn't tell the difference?"

"I've never seen one before," I admitted, wondering why it should be such a big deal.

"With an influential father like yours, and prospective in-laws who own the biggest damn oil refinery in the southern hemisphere? Somehow I doubt that."

"I already told you the reason," I muttered, knowing it was probably not a good idea to reveal too much within Dana's hearing. But she didn't appear to be too interested in what we were saying, already carrying the medical kit back to their waiting hover.

"Yes, you conveniently left the story open on tablet for me to see." He pulled something from an inside pocket of his jacket and handed the flat oblong device back to me.

I accepted it, glancing briefly down at it, but the screen was blank. "Maybe now isn't the time to talk about it," I said, as Dana's mate made his way back towards us from the space ship.

"One pilot disabled," he asserted, patting his blaster. He waved over a group of soldiers who had emerged from the other hovers. "Take them into custody and question them." He thumbed over his shoulder, then continued to us; "I think we had better take you two back to Administration and find you a safe room until the morning. Tomorrow looks like becoming a very interesting day indeed."

It wasn't until Jordan and I were sitting in the back of Dana and Derek's hover that my exhaustion finally hit me. Once the excitement was over and the adrenalin rush had eased off, I sagged against Jordan and closed my eyes, relieved I could finally rest.

But it was difficult to relax with Jordan beside me, stroking my hair, his breath warm against my forehead, making me all too aware of his big solid presence.

"You are such an enigma, my dear Anita," he murmured against my skin. 'But I suspect we shall get to the bottom of everything tomorrow when you don't arrive back on Earth as they had hoped."

Yes, tomorrow was going to be another action-packed day, but right now I was too exhausted to think about it.

I did doze off eventually, Derek obviously a far more experienced hover pilot than Mr Brown. I didn't even feel the landing, not until Jordan scooped me up into his arms and began carrying me like a child into another monstrosity of a building. It seemed to stretch up into the sky forever.

"I can walk on my own," I protested as various people greeted us in a vast foyer that was so shiny and bright it hurt my eyes.

"I know, but I like holding you in my arms," Jordan remarked with a grin.

"Aren't I getting heavy yet?"

"You weigh practically nothing at all."

"Stop showing off what a great big hero you are and put me down," I urged, not used to be coddled like a child, or being told I was a lightweight.

"Yes, I suppose I'd better, since we seem to have a welcoming committee." With that he set me down, but still held me close against him, like he never wanted to let me go again. Several tall Terron men wearing official-looking robes over their loose pants and shirts, strode towards us from a bank of elevators.

"Welcome back, Jordan Demantena," the first man intoned, not looking the slightest bit welcoming. His blue eyes remained cold, and his mouth compressed into a thin hard line as he stopped in front of us. His long blonde hair was braided at the sides, like the officials who had presided over our wedding ceremony.

Jordan bowed from the waist, and I wondered if I should do the same, but his arm around my shoulders kept me in place. "Thank you, Chancellor Badwana. May I introduce my mate, Anita DeBurgh?" he said as he straightened back up.

"Ah yes, the young Earth woman who has caused all the fuss. Welcome, Anita." His tone became even icier. I realized I really was not welcome in the slightest.

"I didn't mean to cause so much trouble," I blurted out. Jordan nudged me with his knee and I realized I had probably said the wrong thing.

"Those who speak before they think are often the root of all troubles," the Chancellor said harshly, and returned his attention to Jordan. "Well, you should be familiar with your old mentors, but for Anita, allow me to introduce Mark Fontura and Brian Lantana, Logan's big brother."

For a moment I wondered why he'd called Brian Logan's big brother, when he looked a good fifty years younger, until I remembered that poor Logan had Aged before he could find a mate.

The other two men greeted me politely enough, inclining their heads and welcoming me as Jordan's mate.

"Where's Logan?" Jordan asked once the introductions were out of the way.

"We organized a transport to bring him here. We didn't think he'd be any safer than you after what transpired tonight," Brian explained. He seemed to be the most casual of the three, wearing his dark brown hair unbraided. I wondered if this was how Logan used to look. Despite his grey hair and seamed face, he was still distinguished, almost regal. I suspected it came with the territory. The Terrons seemed to be an incredibly serious bunch, formal and stiff, not inclined to find much humor in anything. I supposed with their race risking extinction they probably didn't have too much to laugh about. "He's staying in the guest quarters, the same as you will be. If you'd care to follow me, I'll see you settled so you can get a few more hours' sleep. The night is almost over."

Jordan bowed to Chancellor Badwana again, and then we followed Brian and Mark to the bank of elevators.

The set of rooms we were shown to were nowhere near as plush as the hotel suite I had so rudely been ejected from earlier in the night, but it still had its own bathroom with a spa bath, and a huge bed to fit the long limbed Terrons. There was a small sitting room off to one side. No balcony this time. This place was obviously not meant for romantic star-gazing under the moonlight.

"Logan is right next door, actually, and Dana will be spending the night across the hall with her mate," Brian explained. "Too late to send them home, and Dana thought you might like some female company over breakfast. This place can be quite daunting for newcomers."

"Thanks," I murmured. "This whole planet is quite daunting."

"Well, it is three times larger than Earth, so I could imagine it would be," he added with a small smile, and then he let himself out of the suite, the door hissing closed behind him.

Three times larger? I thought incredulously. Obviously it must be nowhere near as dense as Earth, otherwise the gravity would be crushing. Or perhaps the gravity was heavier and I didn't notice because I was in someone else's body, a form that could have been specially treated to survive on the Terron world. But then, as I beheld the tall, slender Terrons, I thought perhaps the reverse was true. They wouldn't have grown so big on a heavy gravity world.

"They are good men, Anita," Jordan said as he came to stand in front of me.

"I never said they weren't. It's just that they are so terribly formal."

"They are unsure of how to act around you."

"Even that icy Chancellor? He looked at me as though I was some kind of insect he wanted to squish under his boot," I said rather tartly.

"You present so much danger, and yet you act so innocent of it all..." He sighed. "If it wasn't for our ability to mind-link and the wonderful way we fit together, I would question your motives too..." Suddenly he pulled me into his embrace, and I melted into him, already feeling like I belonged there.

"If only you would believe me," I murmured against his shirt as I slid my own arms around his lean waist.

"Tomorrow we will find out what wiped your memory. Now it is time for bed." Once again I found myself lifted into his arms, as he carried me across the floor, and deposited me on the bed.

I lay there and watched him shrug out of his shirt and slide out of his damaged trousers. He wore nothing underneath. No underwear whatsoever. I have never been one to admire a man's body, but I could stare at Jordan's naked form all night. His body was so perfect. But he was quick to climb onto the bed beside me.

"If only I had the energy to make love to you right now," he said as he pulled back the sheets, so we could both slip under them together. "But that injury and the energy it took to heal me has really exhausted me. So let me just hold you so we can fall asleep in one another's arms."

I had no arguments with that, and snuggled against him, infused by his warmth. "Well, at least you believe that I can't remember being Anita," I acknowledged, glad we were at least getting somewhere.

"For you to forget something as simple as an insignia and the shape and style of a spac craft must mean some kind of brain trauma. Not to mention some of the other strange comments you've made." He yawned hugely. "We can talk to someone about all that tomorrow too. But right now I need some..."

When he didn't finish his sentence I knew he was already out for the count. Since I had dozed off in the hover, it took me a bit longer to nod off, but soon the welcoming folds of sleep enfolded me into its embrace, just as Jordan always welcomed me in his.
Chapter Twelve

All too soon morning arrived, and it was time to get up and face the music; loud and discordant, emitting from a clock on the bedside table that I wanted to pick up and hurl across the room. Clearly my dislike of early morning wake-up-calls had followed me into the future. The huge Terron sun hadn't even risen yet. To add fuel to my reluctance to rise, Jordan was cheerfully humming along with the unpleasant tune, as he stood fully clothed, in another pair of comfortable loose pants and crisp white shirt, brushing his long hair back into a neat ponytail.

I threw a pillow at him, and burrowed back under the sheets.

Not only did the pillow come straight back at me, so did a heavy weight, landing across my body. Fingers yanked back my flimsy covering. I squirmed, trying to shake him off, but it was futile to try and move such a massive man, particularly when I felt him kiss the back of my neck.

"Rise and shine, my lovely," he murmured against my ear as his tongue followed the ridge of my lobe.

"Stop that. It tickles," I squealed.

"That's the general idea. We have a busy morning ahead of us, and if you want to take a shower, you had better hop to it," he urged, giving my rump a light whack with the palm of his hand.

"Hey!" I cried, rolling over as he sprung off the bed. This was one Terron who certainly did have a sense of humor, I thought as I saw him grin at me from a safe distance. Jordan sure seemed to like to play. And as I had only recently discovered, so did I. For too many years my spirit had been buried beneath the demands of my mother. But now that I was free of her, I could really express myself. I aimed the pillow at him again. Of course I missed as he casually stepped to one side.

"Any chance of turning that dreadful noise off?" I asked as he picked the pillow up off the floor.

"Of course," he said pleasantly. Sauntering over to the bedside table, he laid his hand on the clock. It instantly silenced. "You could have done that yourself, you know."

"Well, I know now. And what are you going to do with that pillow?" I asked dubiously, as he just stood there with it in his hands, grinning charmingly back at me.

"Nothing if you get up."

I heaved a very loud sigh and reluctantly climbed from the bed.

It wasn't until I had removed my dress, and stepped into the shower, that I realized I'd slept in the thing, and that I hadn't seen my suitcase anywhere in the suite.

Wrapping several towels around myself I returned to the main room, wondering what on earth I was going to wear, since the dress was rumpled and stained from last night's adventure.

I shouldn't have worried. Dana was standing there with her arms full of garments, already laying them out across the bed. I couldn't see Jordan anywhere. She had on a pale pink dress that looked Roman, with a beaded border around the neck and a matching beaded belt cinched around her slim waist. Her fair arms were bare.

I noticed a similar belt dangling from the pile of clothes, a blue one with silver tassels. "Is there a dress to go with this?" I asked hopefully as I pulled it free.

She smiled. "There sure is. It's one of my favorite outfits, but you're welcome to wear it today. And here are the matching shoes." She pulled a pair of soft beaded slippers not too dissimilar to my own from the heap of clothing.

I stuck out a foot. "Will they fit? We might be about the same size but I don't know if our feet are too."

She smiled at me. "They'll fit. Terron material remember? It adjusts to just about anyone's size."

"Cool. Thanks. Where did Jordan get to?" I asked, as I began pulling on the new clothes.

"The men have already left for breakfast."

I guess that meant I should hurry. Since the dress more or less glided on, and the shoes hugged my feet like a second skin, all I really had to do was brush my hair. That took the longest, since neither race seemed to have invented instant detangling brushes.

Feeling fresh and comfortable, I followed Dana to the bank of elevators and down into a massive cafeteria. It was crowded with mostly Terron males making quick work of what looked like standard-sized breakfasts for elephants.

"Get a good breakfast on board and achieve a more productive day," Dana quoted. "These guys are mostly Administration staff. Personally I think it's to take advantage of a free feed."

I was really beginning to like her brand of humor. "Do you work here too?"

"Yes, when I'm not at the hotel preparing brides for their marriage ceremonies. If mates want to work, the Administration will find you a job," she explained as she lad me over to what looked like a buffet. She began helping herself, so I too picked up a plate and began piling food onto it.

"It's been a while since I've had a job, but I would like to do something useful," I said as we began weaving our way through the other diners.

"That's good to hear. There's more than enough to go around, as you'll no doubt soon find out. This city might look enormous, but over half of it is empty."

I hadn't known that. It all looked so neat and new. I had no idea it was a city in decline.

"The Terron buildings are built to last," Dana continued. "Derek and I moved back into his family home after our mating, but until then he was living here in the Admin building. If Jordan and Logan weren't running the farm, you too could move into his family's home. The houses are to die for. Ah, here we are."

Our mates were sitting at a long table, along with Logan and the two men I had met during the night, Brian and Mark. Like gentlemen of old they all got to their feet to welcome us, and then shuffled about to make room for us. I was also properly introduced to Jordan's best friend, Logan.

As I began tucking into my bacon and eggs, Jordan outlined today's itinerary for me. Apparently Logan had already organized for me to see a doctor who specialized in memory recovery.

"A shrink?" I queried suspiciously.

"A what?" everyone asked.

"You know - a head shrinker, a psychiatrist," I elucidated.

They all laughed. "Not in this day and age," Logan snorted. "No, he's a memory specialist, a doctor of the brain."

"As long as he doesn't try to operate on my brain, I'm prepared to talk to him," I said, becoming rather annoyed at their reaction.

"There's no need for anything quite that barbaric with today's technology. Nobody's brain has been operated on for well over a hundred years," Jordan explained.

Now I was a barbarian. Great! I decided to keep my mouth shut, and have it out with the good doctor himself should he decide to hypnotize me or stick electrodes to my head. After my experience with Professor Jackson, I didn't want my head, body or mind messed with again anytime soon!

Dana patted my hand. "Don't worry about them. They're just being typical males. If you want me to come with you, just say so."

"Thanks Dana." I was actually annoyed that Jordan hadn't given me moral support. As I glanced at him, I thought he looked worried, no doubt as concerned as I over what we would discover about Anita today. Of course that worry had never really left me either, but for a few short moments I had wanted to enjoy my food. Now I pushed my plate away, only a few mouthfuls eaten. I preferred to get this over and done with. "But I'd rather you didn't. I hope you don't mind." The fewer people involved in this the better, I thought.

"That's fine. I've got plenty to be getting on with myself. Hopefully I'll see you afterwards at lunch time." With a smile, she got to her feet.

So this was going to take all morning, was it? Terrific. Since Jordan had also finished his breakfast, he once again did the gentlemanly thing and offered me his arm. I slid my hand through the crock of his elbow and we left the cafeteria.

"Where's your com-link?" he asked as we headed back to the lift bank.

"Back in our room, I suppose."

"Well, we'd better get it. I'm sure you're going to get a rather terse message from your father at some stage today."

Anita's father, not mine, I thought grimly, but didn't say it out aloud. We returned to the room to retrieve the tablet, and then took the elevator to another part of the building. In the hotel most of the signs had been in English, the universal Earth language, but here, where few Earthlings ventured, everything was written in Terron, a beautiful script, but totally illegible to me.

I finally found myself being shown into the good doctor's reception area, complete with Human secretary behind a large counter, and comfortable lounge chairs for waiting patients. After Jordan reported to the receptionist he sat down beside me on the lounge. I heard her contact the doctor via an intercom, informing him we were here to see him.

Expecting a bespectacled man in a long white coat, I was surprised when a Jordan look-alike emerged from a sliding door beside the reception desk. He was even wearing the same colored trousers and a crisp white shirt. Of course his features were different to Jordan's, and he wasn't as tall, but his eyes were almost the exact shade of intelligent silver blue.

"Good morning," he greeted us politely, as both Jordan and I got to our feet. "I'm Doctor Samson Coolongola, but I'm sure that's too much of a mouth-full for you, my dear, so just call me Sam."

"Thank you." I accepted his outstretched hand, which he gave a firm shake. Then he greeted Jordan the same way.

"So, will you remain while Anita and I go through the memory recovery process?"

Jordan glanced down at me. "Would you like me to stay?"

"Is it going to hurt?" I asked the doctor.

He shook his head. "Of course not. What kind of horror stories have you been spinning the poor woman," he chuckled at Jordan.

"I think she's come up with them entirely on her own. Anita seems to think she's actually from three hundred years into the past."

"Shall we go inside to discuss this?" Sam urged, extending an arm towards the still open doorway. He seemed almost as excited about his pet project as Professor Jackson had been, which to me did not bode well. Reluctantly I followed the two men.

I found myself in what could only be described as a laboratory. It didn't look like a surgery, or even an operating room. In the centre stood a bed with a curved metallic canopy over it that looked like a cat-scan machine. I supposed this was the doctor's mind reader. Other machines and computer monitors were positioned around the periphery, along with several chairs and desks. No need for massive medical tomes in this day and age. I couldn't even see any paper charts or forms.

"So, you think you're from the past," Sam got straight to the point. He motioned towards the chairs and Jordan and myself sat down. Sam continued to pace about his lab, which I found irritating, so I gave him a brief nod in response.

"Well, we should be able to find out soon enough what your mind's been up to." He motioned towards his scanning machine. "When you lie down in this, I can record all brain activity going back about two weeks. The only problem is it takes a while for me to reverse the recordings, so you will need to come back in the afternoon for the results. Also, you will need to be sedated for the duration. That way you won't move so your brain will be at its most relaxed, and thus not interfere with the recording."

No one had mentioned being knocked out. Anything could happen while I was incognito, I thought fearfully, imagining coming back with a new brain to go along with the new body – or disappearing altogether because I was supposed to be dead. "Keep an eye one him while I'm in there," I whispered to Jordan.

"She's worried you might tamper with her mind," Jordan explained, when Sam stopped his pacing to regard us. No doubt he'd heard my whisper and wanted to know what it was about.

Even though Jordan and I hadn't tried to communicate directly with our minds since our temporary separation last night, it seemed he was still in tune with my thoughts and feelings. It was only me who had no idea what he was thinking and feeling, not that I really cared to know right now. Our lives were in danger, and it seemed only Anita's memories could help us discover why.

"No tampering," Sam said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just recording. All right."

"And I won't leave the room," Jordan told me.

Jordan's reassurance was enough to encourage me to agree to the test. Within minutes I was lying on the bed, with my head inside the tunnel. No canellas or syringes were needed to sedate me – just one sweet-tasting tablet that dissolved on the tongue. Almost as soon as it was gone, I was out for the count.

While Anita went through the memory retrieval procedure, Jordan communicated with Logan, Mark and Brian, but none of them had managed to find out much about the Rembrandts or Anita's father that wasn't already public knowledge. Everything appeared to be above-board and legal, although Rembrandt's release of the refined Hytana oil to his customers was slower than it used to be, causing shortages and price hikes in some areas of Earth.

Jordan rubbed his chin, wondering if this had anything to do with Rembrandt's desire to open up new Hytana farms on Terron. Was there something wrong with the oil? Perhaps there was some kind of industrial action involved that the authorities hadn't been informed about. Or could Rembrandt be keeping some of it for another purpose?

As he pondered these points, Anita's tablet vibrated in his shirt pocket, and Jordan fished it out, not at all surprised to see the message portal flashing.

It was from her father.

Jordan excused himself and returned to the reception area to play it. Luckily the area was deserted. Samson's mate must have gone for a break.

Jordan activated the message, and the careworn face of a middle-aged Human man with receding grey hair greeted him. Even though he was dressed in a tie and suit, he didn't look like he'd gotten a wink of sleep.

Anita, my girl, you must come home. Your fiance has been begging us to bring you back. What's happened to you? Are they keeping you against you will? You know your freedom cannot be taken from you in this way, particularly if you're engaged. A woman about to be married does not need to take the tour. What on earth went wrong?

The desperation in his voice sounded so genuine, Jordan wanted to hurl the tablet at the wall. Perhaps it was, he reasoned with himself. Maybe DeBurgh didn't know why Anita wanted to escape the Rembrandts, other then the fact that they looked like creeps. Some people could be unbelievably clueless when it came to reading between the lines. Perhaps DeBurgh had no idea that Anita didn't want to marry Rembrandt Junior.

Jordan suspected the only way he was going to discover the truth was to wait for the results of her memory scan. He sighed heavily. It was going to be a long morning, a very long morning indeed.
Chapter Thirteen

After lunch Jordan and I headed back to the doctor's rooms. I had experienced no after-effects from the cat scan, no wooziness or nausea, as was often the case after a period of sedation back in my own time.

Jordan had showed me Anita's father's frantic message, and I too thought it simply looked like a concerned parent trying to determine their missing child's whereabouts. But after last night's kidnapping attempt, I told Jordan I thought he was just trying to make everything look more innocent than it was.

Someone was desperate for Anita to return to Earth, and it made me more nervous than ever. I had a feeling if we didn't get to the bottom of this soon, neither Jordan nor myself would be safe, no matter what part of Terron we ran to. I didn't say this out loud, but I could see from the concerned frown on Jordan's brow that he was thinking pretty much the same thing.

Such intrigue had never been a part of my staid and humdrum life, and I hoped neither of us were going to end up dead from our efforts to thwart the Rembrandts. Like Jordan I was convinced they were at the bottom of this. Anita's father could have been just as much a pawn as she was.

When Sam ushered us back into his lab, he had dimmed the lights, and the largest computer monitor was lit up like a movie screen with numerous wiggly brainwave tracks running across it. He pushed three chairs over to it and we all took our places.

"Well Anita, or should I now call you Ruth?" Sam began. Jordan and myself spun around to gape at him. "Yes, it seems you were right. Ruth Clarke took over when the mind of Anita DeBurgh died."

"Holleee Hell," Jordan gasped, sitting forward in his seat to regard Sam gravely. "So... so does that mean she really is from the past?"

"Where Ruth is from I cannot say, because it happened so suddenly... See how the brain waves change?" He motioned to the screen with a laser pointer. Each wave changed abruptly at a single point, as though someone had drawn a black line down the middle of the screen. Anita's brainwaves had been jagged, erratic. But mine were smoother, rolling waves. But I didn't like the way they were talking about me as though I wasn't even in the room.

"I'm exactly where I said I was from," I told Jordan, but he kept his gaze riveted on the screen. What was going through his mind now? I wondered. Was he wishing he'd let the thugs drag me onto their space craft last night, after all?

"What I'm more concerned about," Sam continued as though neither of us had spoken, "is why Anita died, and how the heck Ruth could take over once she was gone. Never in all my years as a mind practitioner have I seen anything quite like this. If I was an older, more superstitious person, I'd call it a soul transfer."

"You can record memories and you don't believe in time travel," I cried as he continued to sit there shaking his head in absolute wonderment.

"We won't get anywhere raking over that old ground," Jordan said. "Just show us exactly what you recorded, and we might get a better perspective on Anita's demise."

Sam shifted in his seat, but didn't touch his console. "I watched the first few minutes, just to ensure everything worked... I really don't think Ruth should see it.... I mean if she has no idea who Anita was, then I..."

"Why, what happened?" I demanded.

Sam continued to look uncomfortable.

"Samson," Jordan prompted.

He swallowed. "Anita was raped... "

I gasped, and Jordan swore in his own language. At least I assumed it had been a profanity, judging by his tone.

"By who?" Jordan croaked.

"There were two men, one after the other. An older man and a much younger one," Sam said, still unable to look either of us in the eye.

"Oh shit," Jordan swore again, this time in English.

"And I think I have a pretty good idea who they were," I added, as Jordan pulled Anita's tablet from his shirt pocket. He activated it, and lined up two pictures side by side; Ian and Oliver Rembrandt.

"Was it these two?" Jordan held it up for Sam to see.

The doctor nodded gravely.

"Fucking bastards!" Jordan slammed a fist against the armrest of his chair. "I am going to tear them limb from fucking limb."

I had never heard him speak with such violence before, but I could understand his impotent anger, since I longed to avenge Anita as well. The poor woman! To have that happen to her, and then to... lose her life like that.

"How about I play the rest of the recording and let you make up your minds at the end of it," Sam suggested. "I just hope there are no more scenes like that..." He shuddered visibly. "Coming from her own eyes, it's not like watching a movie, so things will appear a bit strange at first."

"Just get on with it, Samson." Jordan urged.

He nodded gravely and activated the recorder. Anita's last memories began to appear on the big screen.

True to the doctor's words her memories were strange to watch, but I very quickly got to feel for this courageous young woman. She had been pinned into a corner with no way out.

The rape took place after Oliver caught Anita reading some documents on his personal computer. She hadn't been snooping, she kept repeating hours later as she sobbed her heart out. She was hard to understand because she was lying face-down on a bed, her words muffled by the pillow and her tears. I caught a glimpse of one trembling hand. It had a leather belt tied around it. She had been bound hand and foot.

It had something to do with explosives they were building using Hytana oil.

"So that's where the extra shipments ended up," Jordan growled under his breath. "And I bet I know exactly what the explosives are for."

"Terron?" I ventured a fearful guess.

He nodded grimly, and then turned back to the screen.

"You tell anyone any of this and I'll have you killed," Oliver's oily voice hissed close to her ear. I saw his cruel lips out of the corner of Anita's eyes and shuddered, cold dread sliding like icicles down my own spine.

"I'd rather be dead than married to you," she sobbed into the pillow.

He backhanded her across the side of the head and she cried out in pain. I cringed in my seat, feeling sick.

"Wish I could damn well tie you up until the wedding day," he hissed. "But your father might get suspicious if you're not around for a couple of days... So, are you going to talk?" He yanked her hair for emphasis, and again I flinched, knowing the poor woman must be in a great deal of pain.

"No, I won't tell," she whispered tearfully.

"About the bombs or the fun you and I had with Dad?"

Anita shook her head. "No"

"Fun!" Jordan hissed. "I'll give that little shit fun."

I shushed him, but it wasn't really necessary. Nothing too interesting happened for a while, since her memories also included her sleeping, eating, and going about her daily routine.

Sam asked us if it was all right to skip through these events, and Jordan and I both nodded. It was always possible to backtrack and replay them later if necessary.

The next interesting event occurred when Anita was talking to a friend destined for her tour of duty to Terron. She wasn't one of the young women who had accompanied me here. Anita was asking her how she could get herself nominated, even though she was engaged.

"Most women are trying to get out of it," her friend snorted. "Why on earth do you want to go?"

"I can't tell you, Wanda, but it's important," Anita insisted.

"Look, if you want to call your engagement off, just do it. You don't have to go all the way to Terron in order to make a point," Wanda persisted.

"It's not that. Look, I can't really tell you why right now. Just tell me who I need to talk to."

"All right, if you insist," Wanda said dubiously, and began recording information into Anita's tablet.

We watched Anita talk to several government officials, visiting Mrs Jackson to organize a spot with her study group, and leaving her Sydney harbor-side mansion in the dead of night so her father wouldn't find out she had gone, letting herself out the front door on silent feet.

Samson fast forwarded again, until I was looking at the space-port through Anita's eyes as she trailed after Mrs Jackson's group of giggling girlies. Suddenly her whole world tilted and slammed into blackness.

"And then you take over, Ruth," Sam said as the screen continued to remain blank. "I suppose you could try and get hold of the security footage to find out what caused her to suddenly black out like that."

"Someone must have found out she was trying to leave Earth," Jordan mused, still with his gaze fixed on the blank screen, "and wanted to stop her, making it look like an accident. It was probably a laser beam from a stolen Terron blaster."

"Set to kill,' Sam added for good measure. "Want me to play anymore?"

I shook my head. "Could the other reason she was coming to Terron be to warn you about what the Rembrandts were doing with the Hytana oil?"

"Could be," Jordan mused.

'So how well would these recordings stand up in a court of law?" I asked.

"Exactly what I was thinking," Jordan remarked.

"This might be new technology, but we already have a memory retrieval machine set up in the Law Enforcement Centre right here in this building," Sam explained. "The military will be getting theirs installed next week. It also looks like Earth's Central Government are interested in having one shipped to their main intelligence centre. Memory recordings might not have been used as evidence as yet, but because they are more accurate than any other memory retrieval system, I'm hoping they will become par for the course in all criminal cases."

"Just how is Earth governed these days?" I asked. "I mean you both know I'm Ruth now, right. So believe me when I tell you I'm from the past. We had no central Government then. Each country more or less governs itself."

"How the devil could that possibly have worked?" Samson asked with a frown. "Yes, each country has its own leaders, but they are still subject to international law, which covers all the planets in our Solar System."

"You mean there are other worlds involved in the Treaty?" I asked in awe.

"The Treaty only involves Earth and Terron. None of the other plants inhabitants are compatible..." Jordan shuddered, and glanced at Samson with a disgusted expression on his face. "Imaging mating with a Martian or a Lamborian!"

"Ugh," Sam grunted. "All those tentacles. But I suppose they could make it more interesting."

"You mean they found life on Mars?" I gasped totally enthralled now. How I wished my father was here. He would have loved all this!

"No, life found Mars and migrated there..." Sam began, and then glanced at one of his monitors. "I think we had better wrap this up and hand the evidence over to the chancellor. It's getting late, and my mate and I are going out to see a show tonight."

"Yes, and I'm sure he'll want to speak with us as soon as he's viewed the recording," Jordan added. "We will need to plan our next step, and send a message back to Anita's father, or perhaps even open up a two-way communication link to talk with him directly." He got to his feet, and extended his hand to me. "Come Anita, let's go and find the others. Or should I now call you Ruth?"

I didn't like the way he frowned down at me as I stood up and placed my hand in his. Since I had been known as Ruth all my life, I felt like telling him so. But I really liked the name Anita, and since we weren't done yet in sorting out her life, I thought it would be easier for everyone concerned if I remained Anita for the time being.

Besides, in this body I didn't look like a Ruth.

"Anita," I said at last, and he nodded, giving my fingers a little squeeze. Did that mean he approved of my answer?

"In that case it would be best if you continue to also pretend you are her, at least until we get hold of those disgusting Rembrandts and make them pay for what they did to you... I mean Anita."

"So what do you want me to do about the recording?" Samson asked from behind us. "I mean it clearly shows a change in her brain activity at the space port."

Jordan looked worried. "Is there some other explanation you can come up for that?"

"I could erase it, and say that Anita couldn't cope with any more sedation. It happens sometimes with petite people, which is why it isn't used on children."

Jordan clapped him on the arm. "Thanks my man."

"Trying to explain Ruth and how she got here could make them suspect my new equipment isn't as reliable as I claim and refuse to use it as evidence, when it appears this is all the evidence we have against those bastards."

"Yes," I agreed. "I will do my best to keep to my role as Anita. I want to put them behind bars as much as you do."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a slow, painful death," Jordan spat. "I can't believe a father and son could stoop so low as to both..." He trailed off, shaking his head. Come, let's go and meet the others."

Once again we joined Logan, Mark, Brian, Dana and Derek for our evening meal, but after a while I started to feel claustrophobic, and asked if it was possible to go outside for a walk after we had finished our meal.

"It's not safe right now, Anita," Derek answered. "And we don't really have the manpower to protect you should they make another kidnap attempt. I'm sorry."

"I understand," I murmured.

"But we could go up to the roof," Dana suggested. "Remember how we used to go up there sometimes after we were first mated?"

"Ohhh, sex on the spindle," Mark teased.

Dana swatted him.

"Why don't you take her then," Jordan suggested to her. "I think I might hang with the boys for a little while tonight if that's all right with you, Anita." He glanced briefly at me, and I strongly suspected he was trying to avoid me now. He hadn't paid me much attention over dinner, preferring to converse with the other men. Whether it was because of what had happened to Anita, or because he now had to face up to the fact I wasn't her, I didn't know, and was surely tempted to ask him outright through our mind-link abilities. Neither of us had used it since our return, and I wondered if it was only possible while we were apart, or one of us was under a great deal of stress.

When the other men turned to me with the same expression on their faces, as though daring me to say no, I said; "All right, the girls will hang together tonight as well then."

So Dana and I caught the lift all the way to the top of the tower. I was surprised to find garden beds in full bloom lining a path interspaced with benches and umbrellas to shade amblers from the sun during the day. There didn't appear to be anyone else about, and I stepped up to the outer wall, gazing out across the city. I realized that Dana had been right, Great sections lay in darkness, evidence of a lack of habitation that had not been visible during the daylight hours.

"Are you happy here on Terron?" I asked Dana as she came to join me at the wall.

"I've been asked that many times over the years, and as time goes by, I can say with increasing certainty that I've never been happier. Apart from the fact you never have to worry about getting wrinkles, grey hair, or putting on weight, Derek still treats me like a princess, even after all these years."

"Yes, I get the feeling the women on Earth have been fed a lot of bulldust about Terron men," I conceded. "But I also get the feeling that Jordan isn't really happy with me right now."

"Heavens Anita! You've only been married a few days, and now you have this awful situation hanging over you both. He's beside himself with worry. That's why he wants some time out with the boys, not because he doesn't care about you anymore... Besides, these relationships need to be worked on just like any marriage on Earth. Just because it comes about so suddenly doesn't mean you aren't meant for each other. It's not like the arranged marriages of old. Those powerful Terron hormones pumping through their system know exactly which mate is their destiny."

"Even if we're Human and not Terron," I said softly, feeling like I'd been chastened like a small child.

"I thank God every day that we're even compatible. To let such a wonderful race of beings die out would be a disaster. There are still too many Terrons succumbing to the Aging, and not enough babies being born. Derek and I have only been able to have one child so far. We might be compatible hormone-wise, but it seems reproducing effectively still poses a bit more of a problem. Luckily the Terron genes always seem to come out on top. Our daughter is more Terron than Human, and she will only mate with another Terron because we won't allow her to travel to Earth. She might be physically stronger than Human men, but they wouldn't treat her well. There is still too much prejudice on our home planet."

She had got that part right. Prejudice against the aged, the dowdy, the disabled. anyone who wasn't perfect. But then it seemed Terron had the same problem, simply because there didn't appear to be any dowdy or disabled people around, not that I had seen anyway. "Don't you think there is any prejudice here?"

"I wouldn't use the word prejudice, probably more like resentment. They might appreciate Earth's efforts to keep the race alive, but in taking the Hytana, they have displaced a lot of people. Jordan and Logan run a Hytana farm. They used to work here in programming and design. Very little of that is happening now, because Earth is demanding so much oil. I just wish the Administration would recall all their scientists and specialists and get the Earth's Government to send Humans to run the farms instead. There are millions starving in Africa and the Middle East since all the fossil oils dried up. I don't understand why they can't be brought here to work where there is more than enough perfectly good soil to grow crops along with the Hytana. They would also be well paid and looked after."

"Sounds like the Earth Government should put you in charge, Dana," I remarked, shocked to hear that children were still starving to death in Africa three hundred years later.

She laughed derisively. "As if! I'd put our fellows in charge if I could. These are some of the things they've been discussing over the years. But since they lost their jobs here in the Citadel, it's even harder to get heard."

I sighed, and turned around to regard my surroundings. I found my gaze drawn to the 'spindle', a large metal pole that pierced the night sky like a great big knitting needle. It seemed to be humming slightly, and emitting a soft glow of its own, so we could see our surroundings clearly.

"What's the point of this thing?" I motioned to the spindle, "Other than making this building look even pointier?" I giggled at the unintentional joke I'd made.

Dana turned and gazed up at it. "I don't really know. I suppose it serves some purpose. Most of the other really tall buildings have them too, except for the hotel of course - since it has a domed roof."

I cast my glance at the hotel, lit up like a Christmas tree. Had it only been one night since I had been there enjoying my honeymoon?

"There are more Humans in there than anywhere else on this planet. Which reminds me, I will probably be busy tomorrow since there's another contingent of young women coming for their tour of duty." Dana sighed. "I wish I could fall pregnant again, then not only could I take a break from all those reluctant brides, but I would get to hold another lovely newborn in my arms. Don't you long for such a thing?"

Since I'd thought all that behind me, I had long ago given up even thinking about motherhood. "I... ah.... Well, it's early days yet," I hedged, needing to get my head around this whole marriage and relationship thing before I could even begin to contemplate the baby thing.

"I think you and Jordan will do just fine. As soon as you're free to leave you can finish your honeymoon somewhere else. There are plenty of beautiful places on this planet."

Suddenly a cold gust of wind buffeted me and I shivered. Since I hadn't thought to bring a wrap or cardigan up with me, I rubbed my chilled arms. "Maybe we should head back inside."

"Yes, it can get cold at night sometimes. Another thing that Terron has going for it, a wonderfully mild climate. Well, at least half of the year."

"What part of Earth are you from?" I asked, since I couldn't determine her accent.

"Same as you, Australia, but I lost my accent years ago. A good thing that. I much prefer the way the Terrons speak. So melodic."

"Yes, it seems you have really grown to love everything about this place."

"And so will you when you let go of your old attitudes and beliefs."

I hoped so, since there appeared to be no way of going back either as myself or Anita. And even though I didn't want to admit it to Dana just yet, I was also beginning to fall in love with the place, not to mention one very attractive man who was now stuck with me until death do us part.
Chapter Fourteen

Unfortunately Jordan showed his not so attractive side later that evening when he eventually stumbled into our room some time after midnight. Even though Terron alcohol smelt and tasted much better then the few beverages I'd sampled on Earth, I knew he had been drinking far too much from the way he tripped over things and swore under his breath, probably from stubbing a toe or two.

And when he finally collapsed onto the bed, I smelt the liquor on him. It wasn't an unpleasant scent, but I was in no mood to deal with a drunken man, since I'd never particularly liked it when my father came home tanked. Luckily that hadn't happened too often, usually only after my mother had nagged him to such an extent that he told me he was going off-world for a while.

Luckily for me, Jordan passed out a few minutes later, but only after he had tossed and turned and grunted half a dozen times, jostling the bed so much I felt like I was on a trampoline. Typical male. How was he any different to every other man who liked his booze? But somehow I suspected Jordan wasn't normally a heavy drinker. Like Dana had said, he had a lot on his mind right now, and just wanted a bit of time, as my father had so eloquently put it – 'off-world'.

Eventually I nodded off, and woke to the dulcet tones of Jordan groaning and complaining that his head hurt. So Terron alcohol supplied just as potent hangovers as Earth alcohol, I thought, unable to stop myself from grinning at his antics.

"It's not funny. I feel like I've been hit by a hover," he complained.

"Your own fault for not watching what you were drinking," I replied as I rolled over to present my back on him.

"Should have known I'd get no sympathy from a time traveler," he grumbled.

"I didn't tell you to drink the stuff."

A pillow landed on my hip, so I rolled over and shoved it on his chest, dropping myself on top of it. "Go take a shower. You smell like a brewery, a Terron brewery, admittedly -"

He shoved me off him, and lurched out of the bed. I heard the dulcet tones of him throwing up in the bathroom.

"I would have thought with all the incredible technology your race has invented, that your propeller-heads would have come up with a morning after pill by now." I called.

"You're asking for trouble Anita. We don't have to meet the Chancellor till ten, so if you don't want to end up over my knee, I would..." Once again his sentence ended with a loud retch.

"Not that hard-faced man who greeted us when we got here?" I asked uneasily. I'd been hoping our paths wouldn't cross again.

"Yes, we have a lot to organize today... Ahh, that's better. Best method yet I've found for curing a hangover."

"What, by puking your guts up?"

The door opened, and he stood there, leaning against it, looking much healthier than a few minutes ago. Even though he'd slept in his clothes, he was not rumpled or disheveled. That miraculous Terron fabric had already smoothed itself out. All it had taken him to spruce himself up was a comb of his long, gorgeous locks, and he was as handsome as sin. "Yes, by puking my guts up, as you so eloquently put it. Now, shall we take a bath together? I've already started the water running."

"Yes, I can hear it." So he was back to his friendly self, was he? Maybe a night out with the boys had helped ease his stress levels, as talking to Dana had helped me to put my issues more into perspective. But we still needed to talk, and somehow I doubted he'd want to do much of that in the bath.

Jordan started to strip, undoing the buttons on his shirt, which he then threw at me. "Are you getting out of bed, or do I have to come over there and tickle you out of bed?" he challenged, as I pulled his shirt off my head and tossed it to the end of the bed.

"I was just enjoying the view." I stared pointedly at his bare chest.

"What view?" He glanced around the room. "You can't see out the windows from where you are."

I laughed. "The view in here, silly. So don't stop now. You still have a pair of trousers to go."

"Oh, that view," he cottoned on with a cheeky smile. "You like that view, do you?"

"What do you think? I've never been married to a better looking man."

Jordan placed his hands on his hips, his impressive muscles flexing as he frowned down at me. "And just how many husbands have you had, since I know you Earthlings can marry numerous times without it meaning anything."

I couldn't believe it; the man was actually jealous. I couldn't think of any other reason for that dark look on his face. "I haven't been married to anyone, Jordan. Here's the reason: because as Ruth Clarke I was fat, plain and not very interesting." There I had said it, and the bitterness staying with me as I regarded his still form. He didn't move a muscle as he digested this information.

Then he came and sat down on the bed beside me. "That's all in the past now, my love." Gently he stroked the side of my face. "No matter what you look like, the bond would make you irresistible to me. The fact that you've somehow managed to come here for a second chance must mean the power that governs the universe isn't done with you yet." He continued to caress my cheek, and his gentle touch helped calm my self-doubt a little, but I still felt the compulsion to explain it to him.

"No man's ever looked at me twice, Jordan. I never went on a date, and my mother told me far too many times not to hope for marriage or children, because I was just too plain and boring."

"Your mother has a lot to answer for," he muttered under his breath.

"If I had a picture I'd show you, but we kept very few photos. You wouldn't have liked me the way I was before I came here. I was almost fifty, a good twenty kilos overweight, with dull brown hair, going grey, and a double chin."

"Believe it or not, but I'm over fifty of your years," he said with a wry smile.

"So the Aging would have turned you your true age?" I asked.

"Something like that, so I can understand where you're going with this, Ruth -"

"Anita," I corrected him. "Didn't we agree on Anita?"

"Well, there you go." He slid his hand down the side of my neck, to squeeze my shoulder. "You want to be Anita now, and that's how it will be, at least until we sort out this mess she's gotten herself into." He took a deep breath, his massive chest rising. "There is one thing I'm glad about in you being Ruth."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You didn't have to go through what that poor girl did at the hands of those disgusting Rembrandts. It might be your body they violated, but thankfully you have no memory of it."

"I might have ended up pregnant from it though," I said uncertainly.

"If that was the case, all the hormones I pumped into your system on our mating night would have destroyed anything Human in you womb. Sorry, but our Terron genes are stronger than your Human ones."

I had an image of Terron sized sperm beating up the smaller Human ones pop into my head, and gave an involuntary snort. "Something to be thankful for," I said, glad I wouldn't be bringing any offspring of those odious Rembrandts into the world. It was such a shame they had inherited the family name of such a famous, wonderful artist.

"Now, shall we take that bath?" he asked, standing back up again.

"Oh God, the bath!" I gasped. "It's probably overflowing by now!"

Jordan rushed across the floor and into the bathroom. "Not quite, but almost. Are you coming in?" he called out.

I needed no further encouragement. I was out the bed and undressed within moments. I never knew washing one another could be so erotic, but Jordan used the soap, his hands, tongue and various other parts of his body to arouse us both, not to mention making us as clean as we could possibly get!

The Chancellor announced that he had a lot to discuss with them when Jordan and Anita arrived at his reception lounge. His mostly female staff scuttled about, pouring tea and coffee for everyone.

Jordan had only been here once many years ago, before he and so many like him had been ordered to the countryside to set up Hytanta farms. They waited at a large table with complicated looking computer equipment set up surrounding a central viewing platform of both monitors and holographic imagery. Mark, Brian, Logan and Derek arrived and joined them. The Chancellor's staff welcomed them the same way they had Jordan and Anita, with hot cups of coffee.

Then the Chancellor got down to business. The first item on the agenda was Anita's father. The Chancellor told the group he had contacted him and assured him that his daughter was safe, and that they would hook up a live feed between the planets at 11am.

"Now as you know, I have viewed the memory recordings," he continued. "How do you wish to precede, Anita? Do you want to lay charges, and if so do you want them extradited to Terron to face trial?"

Jordan watched her take a deep breath, so he leant towards her, and said; "They would face a harsher penalty then if they were tried on Earth. We do not take such offenses lightly." He returned his attention to the Chancellor. "Perhaps you could outline all the charges against them?"

"Of course. There is the rape and attempted abduction against Anita. There is also the allegation of unauthorized use of Hytana oil to produce weapons of mass destruction, which of course we will need to investigate further. I have already dispatched a team of unmated males to track them down. After Anita's kidnapping attempt, I fear I cannot trust any of our Earth representatives. Security has also been heightened and all shields upgraded to maximum power, so no one or no thing will be able to penetrate Terron's atmosphere as long as they are up."

This only confirmed in Jordan's mind that the explosives the Rembrandts were constructing were meant for Terron. What on earth did they have to gain by such a violent act of terrorism? It would mean the end of the Treaty and all oil exports to Earth, not to mention a possible war between the worlds, a war Earth could not possibly hope to win since it had no defense shields. A retaliatory strike from any one of Terron's spindles would effectively vaporize any Earthian warship, and such was the power of the Infinity Squared navigation system, that the Terrons could even direct such energy blasts through the wormhole directly at Earth. Jordan wondered it the Chancellor and the rest of the Terron High Council had considered this, but he didn't voice his concerns. Any missiles now headed for Terron would be spotted in the wormhole long before they reached the planet's shields. Unfortunately the shield couldn't be maintained indefinitely, since it put too much strain on the power-conduits to the planet's core. But they still had the sensors and the spindles as backup.

"I just wish you could have come to us with this information as soon as you arrived on the planet," the Chancellor said to Anita.

"Do not blame her, your Grace," Jordan intervened. "I doubt she would have known who to approach, and her group were on a very tight schedule. It would have been difficult for her to slip away."

"She could have reported to any number of officials along the way," the haughty man asserted. Jordan wondered if he suspected Anita was involved in the conspiracy. But then he had seen the memory recording. How could any woman want to support men who had abused her so terribly?

"I am concerned that the Rembrandts now know we are after them for questioning, and that they will make it more difficult for our team to find them. The longer our men are on Earth, the higher the risk that they will find their life-mate and become distracted from the mission. That was why it was good to have Earth representatives on our side. Now I wonder who we can trust?" he said grimly.

The Chancellor had made a very good point, Jordan realized. Just which Humans could they rely on now? Definitely the mated females. Possibly some of the highly paid officials in The Administration. But after Anita's kidnapping, not even their own guards could be relied on. Derek had told him and Logan that pair of scoundrels had been paid handsomely for the loan of their hover.

A light started flashing on the console in front of the Chancellor, and he reached out to tap it with his index finger. "It is time to initiate the hook up with Minister DeBurgh. Any further discussions will have to wait... Yes, go ahead Bianca. Open the line," he said into the speaker to one side of his console.

The holographic monitor at the centre of the table lit up, shining a beam of light to form a cube shape of about a meter square.

Everyone sitting around the table focused their attention on it and waited... and waited.

"Bianca," The Chancellor pressed the glowing button. "The channel is open, but nothing's happening."

"I'm sorry your grace, but this was the time specified," she apologized. "All I can conclude is that the minister failed to arrive at the designated command centre."

"All right," the regal man grumbled. "We'll give him a few more minutes."

They waited until a quarter past eleven, but DeBurgh never appeared on the channel.

"Bianca, get in touch with Earth Communication's Command and find out what happened," the Chancellor ordered.

"Certainly, your grace," the unflappable Bianca replied calmly.

"I don't like this at all," the Chancellor growled.

Jordan couldn't disagree with that. For someone as important as a government minister not to appear at a pre-arranged intergalactic com-link, meant that something must have gone terribly wrong. They found out just how wrong a few minutes later.

"The prime minister of Australia has a message for us," Bianca's voice came through the loud-speaker a moment later. "Shall I put him through now?"

"Yes, of course," the Chancellor said.

A middle-aged man's face appeared in the holographic square. "Are they ready for me?" he asked as he glanced down.

"Yes. Go ahead prime minister," Bianca encouraged.

The Chancellor leant forward, and a similar square appeared around his head and shoulders. "This is Second Chancellor Nicholas Badwana. The com-link is live."

"Ah Nicholas. Good morning," the other man said, as though he really was sitting there shoulder-deep in the middle of the desk. Jordan supposed it would look odd to Anita, who had come from a time long before intergalactic communication. "I will get straight to the point, since it was my minister of trade, Damien DeBurgh, you were waiting for. With shock and grief I must inform you that minister DeBurgh was found dead in his home in the early hours of this morning. He had been shot in the head at point blank range in what appears to be an execution-style assassination."

Anita gasped in horror. Jordan reached out to comfort her before realizing she was now Ruth, and hadn't even known Damien DeBurgh.

"It's all right," she whispered as he drew her close. "I can handle it."

"I know his daughter is there. If I may address her," the prime minister said gravely.

"Yes, she's here," the Chancellor said. "But she appears to be rather shaken."

"As are we all. My deepest sympathies, Miss DeBurgh. Your father loved you dearly, but unfortunately realized too late the trouble he was in. I am so glad you managed to escape in time." He took a deep breath. "Rest assured, we are doing all we can to find the culprits, since we now know who sent the assassins."

"Ian and Oliver Rembrandt," Anita said loudly.

"He can't hear you," Jordan told her quietly. "He can only communicate with the Chancellor. They're talking from one end of the galaxy to the other. Even with Infinity-Squared making the distance as short as possible, it isn't easy to hold such long portals open."

"Should have known they wouldn't want to do the dirty deed themselves," she muttered grimly.

Suddenly a loud boom filled their eardrums. The whole room started to shake. For a moment all the lights dimmed and flickered. Then they came back on, but the holographic image of the prime minister was gone.

"What the hell was that?" Logan gasped.

"Oh my Stars!" Mark pointed towards the window.

Everyone jumped to their feet and rushed to the large pane. A huge plume of orange had mushroomed into the air several kilometers away.

"It's the spaceport," Derek cried. "They've hit the spaceport!"

"But... but how? I thought all shields and sensors were operating at full capacity!" Jordan shouted. Anita grabbed his arm. He placed his larger one over it, staring in absolute horror as the cloud billowed up into the sky, beginning to block out the sun.

"They could have filled a space transport with explosives," cried Derek, the military minded.

"But isn't everyone and everything searched by security before they leave?" Jordan cried.

"If they can bribe our own guards into lending out hovers, I bet they could bribe their own officials into turning a blind eye while they hijack a transport ship. Hell! How many people have died on that thing?" Derek said bitterly.

"How many have died on the ground?" Logan added, his face sheet white.

"What the fuck do those bastards want?" Jordan hissed.

"I have a feeling we will find out shortly," the Chancellor said, as the rest of his staff hurried into the room, obviously coming to see what their boss wanted them to do now. They looked as ashen and grave-faced as Logan, and as Jordan probably did himself. A sick feeling was starting to foam in his gut.

"Bianca, try and reopen the com-link with Earth. And get the First Chancellor on the line," the second Chancellor commanded, as efficient as ever despite the dire situation that had befallen the planet. Yes, they had other space-ports, but Jordan knew there would be no more ships arriving from Earth until the Rembrandts were apprehended. And after that, who knew what would happen.
Chapter Fifteen

Once the com-link had been reestablished between Earth and Terron, instead of the prime minister's head appearing in the holographic square, a completely different man arrived. It took me a moment to realize who he was, because at first glance he looked pretty much like any other middle-aged male. I wondered if the current incumbent was a long distant descendant of John Howard, a man who had been prime minister for quite a number of years in my day.

"Who are you?" the Chancellor immediately demanded. "You're not Allan Howard."

"How observant of you," the unattractive holographic head sneered. With a jolt of horror I realized who he was.

"Ian Rembrandt!" I grasped Jordan's sleeve. After watching various military hovers and craft head for the stricken space-port from our lofty window, we had returned to our positions around the table, feeling lost and helpless. I could tell the men were itching to join their troops, search for and help any survivors, but they were at the mercy of the Chancellor. Once he'd finished negotiating with the other chancellors and the First Chancellor in the privacy of his office at the other end of the room, he had ordered everyone to stay put. The whole building was now under lockdown.

The huge smoke cloud had now settled over most of the city, casting an eerie glow across the sky. It looked ominous, and reflected how I felt. Everything was beginning to take on an unreal quality. It seemed that this disaster revolved around me, or rather the woman I had become, and it scared the living daylights out of me.

"The prime minister is indisposed at the moment and can't come to the party. I'm afraid he's a bit tied up, if you get my drift," Ian Rembrandt laughed at his own pathetic joke.

But the stern-faced Chancellor wasn't playing his game. "What do you want, Rembrandt?"

"Oh not much really, just one Human woman, or rather my son does. He's beside himself with worry about his fiance."

"You bastard!" Jordan hissed, and I felt his whole body tense under my hand, where it rested against his forearm. "There's no way you, or your depraved son, are ever getting hold of Anita again."

"He can't hear you," Logan said from the other side of the table. "He can only hear the Chancellor."

"More's the pity, because I want to jump right down his throat and tear his fucking heart out!" Jordan snarled.

The Chancellor cast us a hard look, and was about to say something, when Ian continued. "You will be pleased to note that Earth will no longer require any more of your Hytana plant oil. My scientists and engineers have worked out how to synthesize the oil, so we can now make our own."

"What?" several of the other men gasped, and the Chancellor asked; "How is that possible?"

Ian Rembrandt tapped the side of his beak of a nose. "For me to know and you to find you." Again he sniggered nastily. "Now I would have played fair if you hadn't taken something which belongs to us. You might have noticed that we just used up the last shipment of your Hytana oil in a most spectacular fireworks display."

"I am going to tear out his heart," Jordan growled, and I squeezed his hand tighter.

"So, my fine alien friends, you have your planet all to yourselves again, so long as you return Anita DeBurgh to Earth within forty-eight hours. Failure to do so will result in the cancellation of the Treaty, the only thing keeping your pathetic race alive."

"They'll cancel the Treaty anyway," Logan muttered. "Now that we don't have something they want."

"How the hell did he get in charge so fast anyway?" I wanted to know. "Isn't there meant to be a Central Government Hub, or some such thing?"

"Well, there was. But as soon as Rembrandt told them about his wonderful new oil substitute, they probably started bowing and scraping to him... I bet they have no idea what he's done to us," Brian said grimly.

"I've got an idea," Jordan said suddenly. He motioned to the Chancellor.

"I will need to confer with my fellow Counselors," the Chancellor told Rembrandt.

"Well, don't take too long," Ian said amiably. "I have oil to produce you know, and there is a terrible shortage at the moment, so I really need to get cracking."

"I'll crack you over the head, you smug bastard," Jordan muttered.

The Chancellor stepped away from the holographic communication unit, and came to our end of the table. "Just tell me what you have in mind, and forget the violent retorts," he snapped. "I know you want to get your hands on him. We all do, but it's not helping matters. We must remain professional at all times."

"All right," Jordan said. "I propose we meet him in space for the exchange."

"What?" I gasped. "There's no way I'm going anywhere near him!"

Jordan placed his index finger against my lips. "Hear me out, love, and then you can castigate me all you like..." He returned his attention to the Chancellor. "We make the condition that both he and his son come. We supply the exact co-ordinates and time to meet; you program them into the spindle computer network, and it blasts his ship to kingdom come."

"I like the way this guy thinks," Derek remarked. "But it's too risky. We might also blast you to kingdom come."

"If we're shielded the spindle won't be able to fix on us. The only ship out there in space it will be able to detect will be theirs. The spindles have an incredible range and now they've been fitted with the infinity-squared system, they can shoot through the wormhole network. No one on Earth even knows what they're for, and their energy comes directly from the core. We agree to meet halfway between Earth and Terron, and no one will be the wiser."

"How do we know he won't be armed and strike us down first?" the Chancellor asked.

"That's why we give him the coordinates. We'll know exactly when he's going to show up. We'll remain shielded until the last possible moment," Jordan explained.

"And what's if they use one of our ships and remain shielded themselves? If you recall Anita's kidnapping attempt they were about to steal a military shuttle from right under our noses. Who's to say they haven't already taken one of our own ships to Earth?" the Chancellor persisted.

Jordan sighed. "All we can do is hope they haven't. I mean they've never had cause to attack us until Anita took off on them with her knowledge about the explosives..." He sighed again. "I'm open to other suggestions, but violence and destruction is all these men know. It would be the last thing they expect from us. They think we're all peaceful peasant farmers."

The Chancellor looked thoughtful instead of trying to throw another red herring into the mix.

"You know it might just work," Derek mused after a minute or two.

"Perhaps your ability to think like a Human might be a good thing after all," the Chancellor said at last.

"I'm waaaiiiiting," Ian Rembrandt called out from the hologram.

I couldn't help myself; I threw the notepad in front of me at his image. Of course it achieved nothing, sailing right through him, but it made me feel a tad less tense watching his ugly head divide into two before returning to its original shape.

The Chancellor gave me a hard look. I shrugged, but said nothing.

"That means taking a trip into space, Anita," Jordan said, returning me attention to him.

"What? Me?" I gasped.

"They need to be able to see you're on board. Just like we need to be able to see them. It needs to look completely genuine."

"But the spaceport got blown up," I reminded him.

"We have other spaceports and fighter craft at the army bases," Derek said.

"All right, if you think it will work." The Chancellor returned to his seat in front of the hologram. "All right, Rembrandt. Here is what we are going to do."

As I listened, I was surprised that Rembrandt agreed to our proposal. But I didn't like the idea of taking off into space to get a good look at him. I liked the idea of getting blown to pieces even less, but reasoned that if we died, then so would the two most evil men I'd ever had the misfortune to come across. I just hoped the adventure would be over quickly, with no time to feel the pain of our demise.

Once the Chancellor terminated his conversation with Rembrandt, he placed Derek in charge of the mission, since he had the most experience and was the best pilot. Jordan would be his second in command and Logan backing up the technical support.

"Dana will have to come, of course," Derek said after thanking the Chancellor for his confidence in him. "We will be too far from Terron, and should I start Aging up there, I will become next to useless."

"She would age too, since you have been married for, what is it? Forty odd years?" Mark remarked.

"Forty-three," Derek said proudly. "And I dare say Anita would welcome her company."

I had to agree that the company of the other female would definitely keep my mind off the upcoming confrontation. I did like Dana, and we got on well. It was nice to have a friend at last, since I had never really had a good, close confidante before. The only negative was that out friendship would be short lived if we failed. At least I would die knowing what it felt like to finally experience passion and fall in love. Jordan and I would die together if the spindles terminated us along with the Rembrandts.
Chapter Sixteen

The military spaceport was actually located near the army barracks where Derek had dismissed those two traitorous Terron troopers. The entire base was shielded from prying eyes – permanently. Obviously the Terrons had decided not to trust the Earthlings quite as implicitly as they had claimed.

I was quite glad for that fact, as we stepped through the shield. What had previously looked like a large lagoon was actually a bustling port crammed with small, sleek atmospheric craft, larger drop ships and shuttles, and several freighters undergoing repairs.

Soldiers in heavy-duty combat armor were standing by with their weapons at the ready, awaiting further orders. They probably all expected to be sent up to combat the threat that had suddenly descended upon the planet. I supposed because it had been Jordan's idea in the first place, and possibly also because the Chancellor thought us expendable, that we had been chosen to go instead. Why send fully trained troops who might be required for future, possibly bigger conflicts, when between us Jordan and I had enough reason to hate the Rembrants to embark on what now looked like a foolhardy mission? We were to fly a completely unarmed ship, relying on fire-power from the bowels of Terron half a galaxy away.

Our small group; Derek, Jordan, Logan, Dana and myself, were all that stood in the way of a full-scale interplanetary war. It still boggled my brain how someone as diabolical as Ian Rembrandt had managed to gain so much power. He must have been a formidable businessman and tycoon, with his dirty fingers in many horrible, secret pies. Every time I recalled that evil face on the holographic monitor and my com-pad, I shuddered and felt sick.

"Are you alright, Anita?" Jordan asked, giving my hand a comforting squeeze as we progressed through the complex.

"Yes, I'll be fine," I managed. "I just hope the computer controlling your spindles have a really good aim."

He smiled at that. "They are very powerful devices, from a darker, more paranoid age when the war between the Galactic Order and the Etiran Empire threatened to include us. Consider yourself fortunate we decided to maintain rather than decommission them."

"Over here!" Derek motioned us over to a military shuttle much like the one Rembrandt's men had tried to steal. Logan was already hurrying up the ramp as fast as his elderly legs allowed. He appeared quite spritely now that he had a purpose, and soon disappeared into the belly of the sleek, silver craft. Two soldiers standing off to one side saluted as we boarded, and wished us good luck on our life-or-death mission. I wondered if I detected sarcasm in their manner and tone, but then decided there was no point in worrying about it. If we didn't make it back, we certainly wouldn't have to concern ourselves with their opinions. And if we did, there would be two less evil men in the universe and a chance at peace between Earth and Terron. As it now stood Earth was risking annihilation if the Terrons decided to aim every spindle they owned onto my home planet.

The craft was big enough to carry a whole company of shock troops. Normally it bristled with weapons, but all had been removed for our mission of 'peaceful exchange'. It could travel both in a planet's atmosphere and outer space. It was also equipped with the Infinity-Squared system for wormhole travel, and carried several months' worth of supplies. Our destination was the bridge, where there were enough seats for a crew of eight. Logan was already bustling about the consoles, powering up and making sure everything was running at peak efficiency. Derek took his place in the plush pilot's chair, and beckoned Jordan over.

"I'll be right over there, Anita," Jordan promised me. He gave me a kiss on the cheek, then joined Derek in the co-pilot's seat beside him. Dana took another chair opposite Logan, at a console that also looked far too complicated for me. I took a chair in the middle, that wasn't near any computer banks. I felt a bit like a fifth wheel. Everyone seemed to have a job except me.

"All spindles are primed and ready, the coordinates programmed in," called Logan. "We're good to go."

"Right. Shields are up. Everyone buckle up for takeoff." Derek began pushing buttons. I felt the deep hum of powerful thrusters starting. Doors and airlocks hissed closed. I felt around for my seat belt and pulled on my buckle.

"Are you settled in, Anita?" Jordan called over his shoulder.

"Yes!"

The ship's rumbling increased and I was pushed back into my chair. Through the wide row of windows in front I could see the military base drop away. We flew up through the fallout cloud from Rembrandt's Hytana bomb, and then into the clear purple sky above. Slowly it darkened to black and stars began to appear.

I began to feel myself rise from my seat, the belt the only thing keeping me in place as I watched in bemusement as my legs lifted of their own accord.

"Brace yourselves - activating artificial gravity now!" called Derek.

I flopped back into my seat with a gasp, suddenly realizing what had been happening and how it had been stopped. Damn, I thought. I really would have enjoyed a quick float around the cabin.

Dana swiveled in her chair. "How are you going, Anita?"

"Space flight is still taking some getting used to! This is only my second trip up!"

She gave me a smile "I've only been into space a couple of times myself."

"Initiating Infinity Squared!" called Derek.

This time I could see what was going on through the large front windows. I gaped as a large, swirling hole opened up right in front of us. Oh my God, I was staring right into the mouth of a giant wormhole! Strange colors and lights whirled around inside. "Holy sh-"

We flew inside. There was a jolt that threw me back into my seat again. I caught a glimpse of more lights and colors; weird shades I couldn't even begin to name. When I closed my eyes I felt like we weren't moving at all, but in front of us the walls of that psychedelic tunnel shot past at incredible speed. I could feel my breakfast coming up for a second visit. I closed my eyes again.

Ah, perfect, silent stillness.

"Anita? Are you feeling okay?" Jordan called.

"Fine, so long as I don't look outside!"

"Ah, yes – moving through the wormhole can be disconcerting. Didn't you take a look out of a window on your trip here?"

"No. I wasn't near any windows. And besides, I was too busy giving myself a crash-course on my I-pad com-link thingy. How long is this going to take?"

"Not long. We're meeting about half-way between Terron and Earth."

I opened my eyes. I was okay so long as I didn't look out the front. Dana left her seat at the medical console and came to sit by me. "You really didn't know the spindles were weapons?" I asked her.

She gave a wan smile. "I assure you I really didn't know. I should have suspected they were used for something, and not just an architectural design feature."

"Deadly weapon disguised as an architectural design feature," I snorted. "I like that."

Jordan appeared on my other side. He was also wearing a sheepish expression on his handsome face. He took one of my hands and squeezed it. "I have to admit I did know about them, because when Logan and I worked for the Administration, we were involved in a complete reconfiguration of the Spindle control systems. And because I thought too much like a Human, I convinced our chancellors to never reveal their existence to Earth's government. It's fortunate the Earthlings also assumed the spindles were just 'architectural design features' and never asked any questions."

"I thought you guys said you didn't keep secrets!" I gasped.

"Just omissions. And precautions. The Humans were happy to assume we're completely peaceful. It really is the way we prefer to be, but it's better to be prepared in case situations like this crop up, don't you think?"

"Jordan, we're coming up on the rendezvous point!" called Derek from the pilot's chair. "You're needed on sensors!"

"Right." Jordan gave me another kiss on the cheek, and hurried across the cockpit to his seat.

"Spindles at full power and ready to fire," called Logan.

"Brace yourselves! Deactivating Infinity Squared – now!" shouted Derek.

There was another jolt that threw me back in my seat, and finally I dared to look back out of the front windows. Silent, normal space dotted with stars greeted me. It was beautiful, and I was smack bang in the middle of it.

"We're about a thousand kilometers from the agreed site – just out of the spindle blast radius. Rembrandt hasn't arrived yet." Scarcely had Derek spoken when another portal swirled open in front of us, and what looked like an entire battle fleet flew out; one large fighter surrounded by numerous smaller ones to protect it.

"Looks like he brought friends," Derek growled.

"I should have known he wouldn't play fair!" snarled Jordan.

"Dear God, will the spindle get all of them?" I gasped.

"Only one way to find out," he answered grimly. "Let's get this over and done with. Derek?"

"Uncloaking." Derek's hands flickered over the console. "We're visible now, and our gun ports are open and empty, showing that we're unarmed. We should be sufficiently non-threatening."

"Incoming transmission," Jordan announced.

"Keep your head," Derek growled at Jordan. "We don't want any of those trigger-happy idiots letting fly too early!"

"Yes sir." Jordan actually saluted.

A small section of the window darkened, and the horribly familiar face of Ian Rembrandt appeared, looking supremely pleased with himself.

"Just one piddly little ship?" he snorted. "I find that hard to believe. I know you people have cloaking technology. Reveal yourselves."

"It's just us," Derek assurred. "You have my word. We Terrons have trouble lying, you know that. And we have Anita DeBurgh here."

"Bring her forward," Rembrandt barked.

Jordan turned and beckoned me out of my seat. On shaky legs I rose to my feet. Up on screen there was a shuffling, and then another face appeared beside Ian's; the brutish face of his son, Oliver. He gave a wide, nasty smile at the sight of me.

"Hello cutie!" he purred, and licked his rubbery lips.

I felt like throwing up all over again, and said nothing. I hoped the look in my eyes was sharp enough to kill. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

"I'm really looking forward to our wedding night. I'm sure we can make it just as memorable as our last union." He licked his lips again and then he lifted his hands into view.

He was holding a leather belt which he pulled tight with a snap.

I could only see the back of Jordan's blonde head, but I could tell he wanted to punch a hole through the screen his anger was a palpable thing. My knees began to shake, but I managed to hold myself steady. Then Jordan turned his head and looked at Logan.

Jordan had never loathed anyone more in his life than the odious pair on the screen before him. The hatred boiling in his veins was like a physical force. His people didn't normally feel such strong antipathy towards anyone. Mated males were almost always content and relaxed and rarely picked fights, and the Aged ones were too old and tired to stir up trouble. But those two diabolic Humans! Jordan wanted to utterly destroy them!

He wondered how they could possibly live with themselves, knowing what they had done to Anita and the Terrons at the main spaceport. Jordan just couldn't comprehend their level of... evil.

He hoped his signal to Logan had not been interpreted by the smirking pair on screen.

Logan lifted a gnarled hand and pressed a button on the armory console in front of him; his all too important communication to the Spindle Computer Network.

In Jordan's mind's eye it happened. He had never seen the spindles in action, but he could imagine them powering up, glowing brighter and brighter. Would people on the top floors of these buildings run from the sight of previously decorative artifacts preparing to fire? Or had everyone been evacuated in time?

Spindles were located in every major city on Terron, so the whole planet was protected like a giant cactus. The spindles currently pointing in the right direction would now be at full power, throbbing angrily.

Then they would fire, their energy beams merging above the planet's atmosphere into one massive, devastating beam of power that contained all the heat and power of the planet's white-hot core.

Almost, but not quite, directly behind the Terron fighter a wormhole cycled open.

"What nonsense is this-" Ian Rembrandt had time to demand before a beam of highly concentrated light as bright as the sun lanced out of the portal and blasted right into the centre of Earth's battle fleet. The biggest ship at the centre, belonging to the Rembrandts, was outlined in a blue-white halo.

The terrorists' faces were briefly outlined on the Terron ship's screen, their eyes wide with horror as they witnessed their own horrible, fiery death. Then the screen went blank – and ahead, the battleship exploded. Shrapnel blew out in all directions, destroying the closest fighters and scattering the smaller ones in all directions. Some chunks of debris flew towards the Terron ship, and Derek had to initiate evasive actions to avoid them.

Jordan was flung back into his seat, but he didn't care. He wept with relief that the Rembrandt threat was gone at last. When the last flaming chunks had spun off into space, he unbuckled his belt and stumbled over to Anita, where he dropped to his knees in front of her seat. He gathered her into his arms and held her close, whispering into her soft hair that it was over, it was all over.

She clutched him back, succumbing to tears herself. They had done it! Their plan had worked!

Jordan lifted his head from Anita's shoulder. "Oh my love, we are free," he croaked. "But I fear... I fear we may have looked too deeply into the abyss. In thinking like terrorists to defeat them... we may well have become them." He shuddered at the thought.

"Jordan," Anita clasped his face in her trembling hands. "We did what we had to do. There was no other solution. I'm sure they would have killed me once I was back in their hands... and continued their vendetta against Terron."

Jordan shuddered again. The thought of her being abused and violated by those vicious Humans made him feel physically ill. There was only one place he wanted her to be for the rest of his life, safe and sound in his arms.

"I love you Jordan," Anita whispered against his ear.

Not entirely certain he had heard her correctly, he said; "What?"

"I said I love you," she repeated in a slightly more audible tone.

"I thought that was what you said, but wondered if my ears were deceiving me. It's so rare for a Human female to admit such emotion to her Terron partner so soon after their mating... I love you too, Anita Ruth. So very, very much."

She tightened her hold of him. "Anita Ruth eh? I think I like that."

"Time to go home kids," Logan announced. "And figure out what the hell we're going to do about Earth next. I mean, we might have blasted the Rembrandts into smithereens, but I wonder just how true their claim about no longer needing the plant oil is."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," Derek remarked. "But I suspect things are going to be vastly different from now on."
Epilogue

Derek had been right with his comment. Relations between Earth and Terron would be seriously strained for some time to come.

The very next day the First Chancellor recalled all the farmers to the Citadel, inviting them to return to their previous positions. In the days that followed all Human personnel who weren't mated were sent back to Earth, where it was discovered that Rembrandt's scientists had in fact worked out how to synthesize the Haytana oil. But it was a long and labor intensive process, and because he had used so much of it to make his bombs, there was now a dire shortage of fuel on the planet, something the Terrons were in no hurry to help them rectify.

And so the hundred year Treaty came to an end. Earth was once again faced with major infrastructure failure, and Terron from population problems. But the Terron scientists, technicians and doctors were now back in place, ready once more to find a solution to the problem. And Earth had it's safe fuel alternative. They just had to work out how to make enough of it themselves before the planet fell into complete and utter anarchy.

Before Jordan took up his role as Chief Systems Engineer he and I completed our honeymoon. We flew to his family home by the ocean south of the Citadel, where we decided we would continue to live and commute to work via hover every day.

It was the most beautiful place imaginable, like a great Greek guesthouse, complete with sunken gardens and indoor swimming pools. One by one the neighbors returned, and the coastline one again was bursting with life.

Even one of Jordan's two brothers found his way back home, and a wonderful family reunion took place, particularly since his brother had fathered two small children by a Earth woman I couldn't help liking on the spot. So far no one knew where the other brother was, or even if he was still alive.

Suddenly there were so many people in my life, good kind people who treated me with respect, even reverence when they found we had been responsible for thwarting the threat to Terron by the Rembrandts.

I also found a job that suited me. I decided to team up with Dana to devise a promotional campaign to encourage Earth woman to travel to Terron of their own accord now that the Treaty was null and void.

It wasn't easy to break years of negative propaganda and prejudice. But due to the massive fuel shortages on Earth, other supplies began to dwindle, and poverty became a huge motivating force. Soon women were leaving Earth in droves, arriving at spaceports all over Terron.

Our small team grew into an agency that specialized in finding these women employment while they waited for their mates. There was plenty of work on Terron, so they weren't confined to the hotel where I had first met Jordan. This made it easier for them to mingle with the Terrons and for them to find their partners.

Even though both Jordan and I were kept busy with our respective new roles, we always found time for one another; to talk, relax and most of all make love so that the Terron race wouldn't die out.

THE END

Here is an excerpt from Book Two of the Treaty Series She Married A Time Traveler

Professor Leon Jackson's time travel experiment appears to have been a dismal failure. After sending his last subject Ruth Clarke into a coma, he faces not only disgrace and dismissal from the faculty, but also a possible prison sentence. So he tries the experiment on himself. What else has he got to lose, even if it ends up killing him?

But it doesn't kill him. It sends his mind three hundred years into the future, into the body of an alien soldier from Terron, left stranded on Earth when the fuel shortage struck. Weak and hungry from an unknown illness, he is helped by Sonia Turner and her father. Roger Turner is an ex-spaceship pilot, and offers to return Leon, now in the body of Brendon Demanteena, to his home planet, the only place he can safely recover.

Sonia has always had a fascination with anything Terron, so she jumps at the opportunity of leaving anarchy ravaged Earth with her father and a fascinating man who appears to have lost his memory.

After his lonely existence on Earth, has Leon finally been given a second chance at life and love? Will Sonia stand by him when she finds out who he really is? And will the Terrons let him stay?

Find out in this sexy romp through space and time, the second book in the Treaty Series.
CHAPTER ONE

Sonia Turner didn't feel safe until she had driven into her father's compound and the massive iron gates slid shut behind her. But it wasn't until she turned off the engine, and the reports on the digital radio stopped that she felt as though she was finally able to relax enough to stop darting her gaze everywhere at once.

Her escape from the city had been a hair-raising ordeal of gut-churning dread, instant reflexes and a constant vigil in the rear view mirror. Even keeping to the minor roads, as suggested by her boss, she hadn't been able to escape the self-proclaimed vigilantes and other desperate individuals who sprung up in her path. She had even been shot at, and was certain there were several bullet holes in the rear of her car.

Her vehicle had once been able to fly like those on Terron, Earth's former trading partner on the other side of the Galaxy, but that function had been deactivated after hundreds of people died due to their inability to abide by the new sky-high traffic rules.

And now people were dying for an entirely different reason. Sonia should consider herself lucky her car had contained enough fuel to make it to her father's compound on the southern slopes of the Blue Mountains. But then she'd hardly left the newsroom these past few weeks, so it had sat in the locked underground car park of her building with a full tank of oil. Her boss had organized a mini bus to ferry staff to and from work as a safety measure due to the ever increasing unrest on the streets.

Sonia hadn't wanted to leave today either, but as she'd discovered on her journey here, nowhere was considered safe anymore, not now that the fuel shortage was really starting to bite. And things were unlikely to get better any time soon, the production plants of the replacement synthetic oil only now going into production. So the station had dismissed her, along with most of the other staff because the mini-van had run out of fuel, and there was no more to be had for the time being.

Sonia had read the news on the night the entire planet's oil supply was stopped with trepidation sitting like a fatty meal in her stomach. The only source of a safe, non-toxic natural oil had been found in plants called Hytana, which only grew on the planet Terron. Trying to cultivate them on Earth had proved futile despite extensive soil studies, so striking a deal with Terron had been the only way to save Earth from ecological disaster. And now they were facing another, all because of the actions of one selfish, megalomaniac businessman and his twisted son. Even though the Terrons had blasted their spaceship out of existence, they no longer trusted Earth, no matter how many delegations were sent to negotiate with them.

It also ended the Treaty so many Earth women had been against. However, now women were heading to Terron for entirely different reasons, to escape the killing and looting. Sonia would have gone too if she hadn't been worried about her father living out here on his own.

She had performed her tour of duty three years ago, and ever since then, anything Terron fascinated her. The planet's natural environment, it's beautiful people, and of course their technology had made her want to stay more than the week her boss had assigned her. Only one young woman from her group had been singled out by her Terron life-mate. Sonia now thought she would gladly have traded places with her. But at the time the poor girl had sobbed and cried as though her whole life was over. She had only been eighteen.

Being the nosy parka she was, Sonia had followed some leads, and discovered the young woman was now quite happy, and looking after a new baby. Even with the large numbers of Earth women making the journey across the Galaxy, Terron's infrastructure had been teetering on the verge of collapse for decades. Sonia hoped that this new influx of females would at least help one of the two planets, because it seemed to her that Earth had dug its own grave by allowing Ian and Oliver Rembrandt free reign of the southern hemisphere's oil production. Sure they had discovered a synthetic substitute, but why did they have to blow up Terron's main space port in the process? What the heck had they hoped to gain from such a pointless act of terrorism?

Sonia didn't realize how tired she was until she climbed out of her car. It was probably also due to the early evening humidity sapping the last of her energy after the cool confines of the air-conditioned vehicle.

Since she had no idea how long she would be staying, she had crammed as she could fit into the small car, but grabbed only her handbag when she saw her father appear in the doorway of the house he had built himself from eco-blocks. He grew his own vegetables like in the days of old, kept a cow, pigs and ckickens, and had a massive store of alcohol and tinned food that would last years should he become cut off from the outside world. Roger Turner had been paying close attention to the news, considering his daughter read it most nights, and prepared accordingly. Sonia wouldn't hazard a guess he had also squirreled away a substantial personal fuel supply as well.

"Hiya Dad," she greeted him with a hug. The tall, lanky, grey haired man returned her embrace, lifting her off the ground. "Put me down, Dad," Sonia protested.

"Just had to make sure I could still pick you up," he grinned back at her, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling. Roger had an open friendly face but his eyes were dark and shrewd like his daughter's. Yes, he liked to laugh, but he also took life seriously, just how serious, Sonia discovered after her mother died five years ago. For a while she feared her father would drown under the weight of his grief. That dreadful first year had aged him, turning what little brown hair remained into silver. But he had survived. They both had, each turning to their respective occupations to dull the pain. Roger was retired now, forced to take a redundancy because his skills as a flight tutor at the space academy were no longer required. He had been replaced by a simulator, technicians now monitoring the student's progress. Luckily he hadn't been far from retirement age, and had purchased the property out here to set himself a new goal, prove that living self-sufficiently was still possible in this modern, fast paced world of mod-cons.

As they walked arm in arm into the rambling single-story house, Sonia had to concur that he hadn't skimped any of the mod-cons. He had a huge galley style-kitchen with all the cooking conveniences, a beautiful bathroom with an enormous spa, and a room set up with computer equipment that ran on a generator set deep underground. Nothing short of an earthquake would disturb him inside his fully-monitored security compound, or so she hoped.

They headed for the living room where the com-link monitor was showing a cricket match.

Roger motioned to the lounge. "Make yourself comfortable dear, and I'll go and get the stuff out of your car. Then I'll pour us both a stiff drink. Feel free to change the channel. I know you've never been keen on the game." He motioned to the massive screen as he sauntered back out of the room.

Deciding that the commenter's barking was grating on her nerves, Sonia called; "Off." The screen went blank. She was surprised they were still playing in the current crisis, but then it could very well have been a re-run. Gratefully she sunk down into the cushions of her father's plush velvet brown lounge. She didn't realize until she was sitting down in the silent house how tired she really was.

"Heaven's above, girl! Did you bring your entire wardrobe?" Roger called, as he lugged a suitcase and another overnight bag past the living-room doorway towards the guest room.

Sonia was about the get to her feet to offer to help him, when he walked past again, grinning at her. "Glad to see you decided to stay a while."

Yes, they had seen too little of one another this past year.

Not only did Sonia drink more wine than she should have that night, Roger also prepared a virtual feast, which included her favorite desert of Pavlova, something Sonia hadn't eaten since her mother died. Naturally she made a comment about it, and their conversation drifted on to Anya Turner. Not even the most advanced modern medicine had been able to save her from the massive injuries she had suffered from having been raped, bashed and left for dead in the alley behind the building she worked at. The introduction of the healing gel from Terron hadn't become available until a few months later, an amazing substance that might have saved her life. Even now a tear glistened in Roger's eye as he talked to Sonia about her.

"I really wish you would find yourself a partner," he said at last. Both of them had probably drunk too much wine, and were now sitting back in the living room, draining the last of the bottle.

Sonia waved a finger in front of his face. "Don't start that again, Dad. I'm quite happy on my own, thank you very much."

"No, you're not, not really," he declared.

"All right, let me put it this way." This time she waved her glass, sloshing wine over the rim. "If I could find someone even halfway as decent as you, I might consider getting involved again, but it seems that all the good men are either taken or don't exist."

"Or on another planet," Roger hinted with a wink.

"I tried that, remember, and it didn't work. Besides I'm too old now. The age limit is thirty," she reminded him.

"Only from our government's perspective. I'm pretty certain there isn't one from Terron's."

"Well, we'll have to see how this dreadful oil crisis pans out. Since I can't take you to Terron, I'm staying right here, where it's relatively safe."

Roger looked thoughtful for a moment. "How long do you think it will be before they have enough of the synthetic oil in production to get everything up and running again? You would probably know more about it than I do, since you work with the media."

Sonia sighed. "Months, maybe even a year. It isn't just making enough of the new fuel, it's getting people organized enough to put up with all the shortages and get them working on it as fast as they can. Things are getting really scary out there. It's virtual anarchy in the city because of the power restrictions and inability to get supplies in. If the authorities can round up enough people to bunk down at the production plant, provide enough food for them, and motivate them to work, then it might not get much worse. I think once they've exhausted all the supplies they've ransacked, they might turn to the government for help. Calling on them via the media hasn't achieved much so far. They're all taking the 'everyone for themselves' attitude that so infuriates me."

"People can be pretty stupid when there's no one to guide them," Roger remarked.

"That's why I came here when they let me go, because I knew you'd be prepared."

"I've been prepared for years," Roger asserted.

"No, you're just a naturalist by nature," she giggled at her own joke. "Oh that was just so lame. I think it might be time to turn in before I make any more silly comments like that."

Roger laughed. "You have a really good sleep now, my girl. I'll head off first thing to see to the rabbit traps."

Sonia pulled a face. "I guess that's the only fresh meat we'll be getting for a while. I'm starting to think tinned spam might be preferable. That gamy taste has never really agreed with me."

"I'll do my best to disguise it with plenty of herbs and spices. How does that sound?"

Sonia yawned. She couldn't hold her eyes open a minute longer. "Good night Dad."

"Good night, Sony."

Sonia went to sleep that night in a soft comfortable bed, listening to the sounds of nature instead of the gunshots and screams that had kept her awake into the small hours of the morning over the past few weeks.

She wished her father hadn't brought up the issue of men, because now she began thinking about how much she had gotten her hopes up on that trip to Terron.

Sonia knew she was different to most women. Sometimes her father even remarked that she should have been born a boy. Even though she looked feminine, and dressed appropriately, she was tall and strong, enhancing her prowess through an intense gym routine. Because of what had happened to her mother, Sonia had taken martial arts lessons, and carried concealed weapons about her person.

In the early days of her career, she had hoped to end up in some of the more dangerous and interesting parts of the world, but being female had always held her back. In the end she decided if she wasn't allowed to go, she would also refuse the more mundane jobs, and opted for anchor instead. At least that way she got to see what was going on even if she wasn't physically there.

Being six-foot two tall, she had hoped she could at last find a man on Terron she didn't have to look down on. Even Roger was half an inch shorter than her, and she had shot past her mother at eleven.

Sonia hadn't even gone on a date until well into her twenties, and only then because of her status as a well-known entity. No one who watched the news would ever know how tall she really was.

Her only real relationship had been with a six foot four man, someone she thought would treat her as an equal, but even he had cheated on her with a much shorter woman. They had gone their separate ways after having only known one another for six months, when Sonia found out about his two-timing. It had hurt her terribly, but also hardened her heart. She would never make the same mistake again, hence her hopes of finding a Terron mate, because their unique physiology made it impossible for them to cheat on their partners, the link that drew them together too strong for them to even consider looking at another woman with desire.

Of course, like other Humans, she didn't like the fact that choice was taken out of the equation, but from what she had seen and heard, the unions seemed to work out all right, the reluctance being only in the early days, as the couple grew to know one another, just like any couple dating one another on Earth. The only difference was that there was no divorce, no out clause should things go wrong.

Besides, Terron men were made to be desired. She had yet to come across an ugly one, and what woman couldn't help feeling attracted to their gorgeous bodies and their handsome, masculine faces?

But even that option had passed her by, at least until she got another chance to visit the other planet, and if going by the new statistics, most of the women who traveled there didn't find partners, but work, which meant food and somewhere secure to live. Sonia had all that here, plus a father she loved and didn't want to leave on his own. She would just have to be content with her dreams, like she always had.

Eventually she drifted off, still musing over recent events, and wondering when it would all end.

She felt like she had only been asleep for a few minutes when her com-tab went off on the bedside table. For a moment she wondered where she was, before remembering that she was safe and sound at her father's retreat. Why then was someone trying to contact her? Could it be her boss having second thoughts? She doubted it, and a feeling of dread washed over her as she picked it up.

It could only mean something terrible had happened back in Sydney.

But the image that appeared on the tablet was that of her father, with the bush surrouding him.

"Dad!" she gasped, suddenly remembering why he was out into the bush. "What's wrong? Did you get a foot stuck in one of the traps?"

"No. No. Sorry to wake you, but I need you to get up and bring my truck down. There's a sick man out here." CHAPTER TWO

I was in trouble, big trouble. Not only were they going to disband my project, I had sent my most recent subject into a coma. When they came to take her comatose body away they said they would be back to dismantle my equipment, and that I wasn't to leave the building. In fact they had stationed a guard directly outside the door of my laboratory.

Yes, I was in a whole heap of trouble, not that I'd been far from it at any time over the past few years. My obsession had become my downfall. There was no way I'd be allowed to keep my position in the faculty now. They would have me hauled before the legal system and thrown in gaol for what I had done.

There was only one thing to do, I thought, as I stood in front of my failed experiment, staring glumly at what had taken me years to build. Foolishly I had thought it was ready. Instead it had virtually killed Ruth Clarke. She was now on life support, her brain waves flat-lining.

I decided to follow Ruth down the path of no return. I had built the damn thing, so I could damn well take myself into oblivion with it.

Some would say I was taking the coward's way out, but at that point in time I didn't really care. Everything I had ever worked for was a dismal failure, so why shouldn't I use it to end my own life? All those wasted years spent tinkering on it. Hours upon hours down here in the bowels of the university, skipping meals, missing sleep. I was a mess and I knew it. I was a mall-nourished, grubby fifty-five year old who had wasted his life following a stupid science fiction dream. And what did I have to show for it? A woman in a coma, my reputation in tatters, and no family to mourn my passing.

I hadn't even been a good lecturer, an even worse tutor. So what did it matter if I used my own invention to send my mind into oblivion? At least I would get one last glimpse of her.

So I stepped in front of the keyboard and powered the device up. I set the timer, because I'd be going on this one way journey on my own, and had no one to man the console. Then I entered the cubicle, removed my scratched spectacles and donned the red tinted goggles. Of course everything became blurry, but when the images of the future came, they were always clear.

I sat down in the chair and rested my thin clammy hands on the armrests. I had to admit I was afraid of dying, not so much the actual event, because I knew it would mean the end of all thought and sensation. As a scientist I had never believed in anything else, but coward that I was, I hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

Well, I hadn't heard Ruth complain. She had merely slipped into unconsciousness without showing me a single thing on the monitor, so I knew three hundred years at maximum power were going to do the same to me.

As my surroundings started to shift out of focus, I heard a noise at the door.

"Hey professor!" someone shouted.

But it was too late; I saw her face, the beautiful raven-haired woman who presented the news of 2312. I never heard her words, too mesmerized by her smooth heart-shaped face, her almond shaped chocolate-brown eyes, and perfect red lips.

What a way to go, I thought, admiring the woman of my dreams, a woman I'd never have the pleasure of meeting in real life.

Everything started to spin out of control and I was falling, to where I did not know, but I couldn't help wondering if I was headed straight for the bowels of Hell.

I found myself sprawling flat onto hard damp ground, leaves and bracken stamping an impression into the side of my face. Air whooshed from my lungs as the rest of my body slammed into the earth.

Just as I tried to gasp for air, something landed on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Another body, I assumed, judging by the weight of it.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw bright flashes of light. I was probably seeing stars from the impact.

"Got them both!" I heard a male voice whoop not far away. "All three are down."

"Better check those two are dead," another male voice yelled from further afield.

So I wasn't dead but I soon would be if I didn't get some air, or the men thrashing about in the undergrowth found me still breathing.

I guess it was my inability to get any air into my lungs that saved my life, because when I came to, gasping and moaning, the heavy weight which had sent me into unconsciousness was gone. I lay face down on the damp, rocky ground, trying to claw enough air into me to stop my head from spinning, and work out what the hell had happened.

The fact that I was still alive was the first big surprise. Obviously the time machine hadn't killed me, but sent me spiraling off into some dense bush land in the teaming rain.

I finally managed to get my arms underneath me to lever myself up, only to end up flopping to one side, and rolling onto my back. From this position I copped a face full of rainwater. Since my throat hurt like the blazers, I managed to gulp some of it down. It made me realize just how thirsty I was.

Time travelling sure takes it out of you, I couldn't help thinking inanely. That was if I really had gone anywhere at all. Most likely the goons at the door had caught me trying to escape via said time machine, and dumped me out here in the middle of nowhere as punishment.

No, I would have found myself in a cell about the size of my bathroom. Unless I had managed to escape and make my way out of the city without remembering it. Now that thought had merit.

The rain appeared to be easing, and once again I peered up into the overcast sky and the damp dripping foliage above me. Well, I was still in Australia, because I recognized the gum trees surrounding me and inhaled the familiar scent of eucalyptus.

Okay, time to try and sit up, I thought, placing my hands against the slick muddy earth beside me. Ugh. I had never been much of an outdoor person, but having no stomach muscles to speak of, I hadn't been able to sit up without help in a long time, particularly not after stumbling about in the bush for goodness knows how long.

I managed to sit up surprisingly easily, and sucked in a shocked breath. Right beside me lay a man with a horrific stomach wound still oozing blood. Bile rose, and I retched, almost throwing up onto the ground between my legs. Only a small amount of gore managed to escape my burning throat. Obviously I hadn't eaten anything in a while either.

Sitting there heaving and feeling utterly miserable, I felt something damp tickle the side of my face. Suspecting a creepy-crawly, I aimed a flat palmed slap against my cheek.

Instead I encountered long wet, strands of hair. I yanked at it, expecting it to come free, suspecting a wig or something else peculiar. I winced on realizing it was attached to my head.

Just how long had I been out of it if my hair had grown this much? I wondered, starting to feel a little bit afraid as well as sick in the stomach. But then I noticed it was light brown, when I knew for a fact I had been ninety percent grey for years? Well, it looked brownish. It could be ash-blonde when it was dry and not matted with mud, twigs, and other bits of nature.

Shoving it impatiently back over my shoulder I looked around again, once more confronted by the sight of the oozing dead guy.

What the hell was I doing here with him, anyway? And what had happened to the people who'd been chasing us? Why was I still alive? Maybe I wasn't. Maybe I was now a zombie with just as gory a wound somewhere on my person, but in too much shock to notice it.

Yeah, right, a wound that devastating would have left an impression. What was wrong with me anyway? My brain really wasn't firing on its usual eight cylinders at all.

"Trying to travel three hundred years into the future would have that affect on a person," I muttered under my breath. "Look what it did to Ruth Clarke!"

Oh get a grip, I ordered myself, and decided to see if I could do more than sit around in the drizzle beside a dead man.

He had been a tough bastard, I realized, as I chanced another glance at him, trying to survey parts of him that weren't all bloody and torn. He too had long dark hair, also matted with leaves and mud. Strong brawny arms were visible, since he was wearing nothing more than some black leathery vest, and matching fitted trousers. His tire-tread black combat boots looked like they were at least a size fourteen, if not more. But what made me gape was the massive silver weapon he still had slung over one powerful shoulder.

The sight of that was what finally convinced me my time travel experiment must have worked, because there was no way a gun like that would have existed in 2012.

Before I even realized what I was doing, my hand reached out for the weapon. As I glanced down at my arm coming into view, I gasped in amazement. Not only wasn't it covered in the sleeve of a grubby white lab coat, it looked as brawny as that of the guy whose gun I was trying to take.

Weapon momentarily forgotten, I stopped to study myself. I was wearing a similar black vest, but wasn't bearing a deadly-looking futuristic blaster. As I placed a hand against my rather impressive bicep, I dug my fingers in, trying to make sure I really was in here. I didn't stop pinching myself until it hurt.

"Bloody hell," I murmured, realizing for the first time that my voice sounded different too, deeper and more gravely. I cleared my throat again, glancing down at a pair of thighs that looked as sturdy as small oak trees. Man, I could run for miles with a pair of legs like that.

Somewhat tentatively I ran a hand across my abdomen, confirming what I already suspected. My middle age paunch was gone. Instead I encountered firm hard muscle. I had to hike the vest up to confirm if, of course. Despite a few rather dark bruises and small abrasions, I was looking at a body any guy would be proud of.

I began to wonder what kind of face I now wore. Was it handsome like the rest of the body? Or had nature done a dirty one me, like it had in the past?

I touched my chin, not surprised to discover a light beard. It didn't feel prickly, not what I usually encountered when I bothered to shave. It was surprisingly soft, nothing for a woman to complain about when she was being kissed.

What the hell was I doing thinking about kissing? I wondered, considering I hadn't made out with a woman in years, even longer since I'd had sex. My every intimate experience had turned into a cringe-worthy disaster.

But it was too late. Now that the thought had entered my head, I just had to check out that particular part of this new body. Besides, my hand seemed to have grown a life of its own as it scooted down to my groin. I touched the material first, surprised that it wasn't leather at all, but some kind of super sturdy Lycra that stretched across my thighs like a second skin. It should have felt hot and I should have been sweating like a dog, but it was surprisingly cool, almost like natural silk, rather than man-made fiber.

Okay, the package I touched gingerly appeared to be in proportion with the rest the body, but it was obvious my mind had taken full control as surely as it had created the devastating impotence of my old persona. I supposed I could have blamed current circumstance. I mean what guy could get turned on sitting in the dripping bush next to dead guy? But even as I thought it, I knew there was more to it than that. I was still technically dead in that department. All the taunts and embarrassing experiences had gotten the better of me, so that in the end I couldn't even get it up at the behest of my own ministrations.

Totally disgusted with myself, I propelled myself to my new size fourteen plus feet, and almost fell flat on my face again. For a moment I stood there and swayed, managing to grab hold of a convenient damp stringy bark trunk for support.

What on earth was wrong with me now? It felt as though the cloying humidity had suddenly grown as heavy as a lead blanket. My shoulders sagged under the weight of my head which suddenly felt too big for my own neck.

So much for inhabiting the body of a military honed soldier! But then it could also be my own sluggish mind still trying to come to terms with this new turn of events. I mean who the heck had this guy been before I come charging along out of the twenty-first century? Where the hell was his mind now? As dead as his fallen comrade!

I couldn't force myself to look at the deceased again, and decided it was time to make tracks. Once again I glanced upwards, but because of the overcast sky, I had no way of knowing which direction the sun was travelling in, let alone which direction I should be travelling in.

Then I saw something metallic in the foliage a few steps away. As I made my way towards it, I realized just how heavy my feet felt. In fact my entire body seemed to weigh half a ton. I knew muscles were heavier than fat, and since I had been such a weedy chap, I wondered if this was the reason I was having so much trouble moving about.

Shoving the palms aside, I finally saw what the metallic object was; another futuristic weapon, the same as the one the dead guy still had slung over his shoulder. Naturally I bent to retrieve it, stunned to find it weighed little more than a child's toy. Either it was a toy, or had been made out of some super-lightweight futuristic alloy.

As I gingerly examined it, I hoped I wouldn't inadvertently shoot myself in the foot, since I had never handled a firearm in my life. It didn't take a genius IQ to figure out which was the business end, but as for what buttons or lever to push, I wasn't game to experiment, and wondered if I should just leave it here. No, I decided, since the man I now inhabited obviously still had enemies out there somewhere, but it did make me wonder why he'd been spared, and the other guy was now as dead as a doorpost.

And then something even grimmer entered my mind as I slung the weapon over my shoulder. What if I really was dead, and had reanimated this body like the Living Dead?

I now wished I'd never watched that dreadful schlocky movie. I usually had better taste than that, but some colleague had talked me into going to the cinema to see it all those years ago. I thought I'd forgotten all about it, but here it was, swimming to the forefront of my mind along with the bile rising in my throat.

Instinctively I pressed a hand to my chest, and heaved a sigh of relief when I felt a heartbeat thrumming insistently under my clammy palm.

I shook my head at my own foolishness. Obviously this time traveling had really messed with my head, not to mention having to manage a whole new body, which I still seemed to have little control over, I thought, as I began to lumber awkwardly through the dripping undergrowth.

After what was probably only a few minutes but felt more like half an hour, I stumbled upon the other fallen man. He too wore his hair long and was built like the proverbial brick outhouse.

It took me a moment to notice that there wasn't a speck blood on him. In fact I could see no wounds whatsoever, unless it was on the back of his head, and the blood had seeped into the earth due to the earlier rain. As I pondered this I realized the guy who had fallen on top of me had been stabbed, not shot. Or perhaps he'd been subjected to both. I examined my weapon again, and wondered if it was capable of such a clean kill. I supposed anything was possible if I really was three hundred years in the future.

Turning away from the dead man, I continued my slow plodding pace, hoping I would stumble upon civilization soon, and that the reception would be friendly, not ready to shoot first and ask questions later.

As I walked it felt as though I was wading through treacle instead of heavy humid air. If I had ended up inside this brawny individual who was obviously too heavy for me to carry, what on earth had happened to Ruth Clarke, my poor unsuspecting subject? Until now I thought I had killed her, as did the authorities, but I suppose she could have been lucky, ending up in someone half her size. I hoped so. I really did. I also hoped that she was happy, wherever she was, because it would mean my time machine really did work, and I wouldn't have to shoulder all this guilt anymore.

I had ample time to think and ponder as I trudged through the dripping countryside, weariness dogging my every step. I walked until it began to grow dark, still no sign of civilization in sight. I wondered how it was possible such large tracts of unsettled countryside continued to exist so far into the future.

Finally when I could barely see where I was going, my weary legs, too tired to carry me another step, collapsed under me, and I sank down onto the damp, muddy earth. Scraping together a bed of leaves and bracken, I lay my aching head upon it, wondering if I would even wake in the morning, since I was seriously beginning to suspect this body was suffering from a terrible illness.

I supposed I shouldn't really have been surprised - I hadn't had much luck lately. As I lay there, feeling miserable and hungry, the moon rose, and shone down through the foliage. It gleamed against something metallic a few feet away, something I hadn't noticed in the descending gloom.

As I studied it, wondering what it was, something inside it shifted weakly, a small animal, and it dawned on me what it was; a rabbit trap.

An ember of hope sparked in me, because a rabbit trap meant someone had put it there, meaning they might be coming back to check it soon.

This was my last coherent thought as I slipped into an exhausted sleep.

OTHER TITLES BY EMMA DANIELS ALSO AVAILABLE

THE DREAM SPELL

THE PRISONER WITHIN

HEARTBREAK HIGHWAY

OCEAN OF FIRE

INDIAN ROSE

THE CRYSTAL ROSE

LORD OF MY DREAMS

GHOST OF A CHANCE

GIVING UP THE GHOST

ENTWINED

GOLD FEVER

JUDGING JAYDEN

OTHER TITLES BY EMMA DANIELS AND ETHAN SOMERVILLE

CURSE OF THE KINGSMANS - a historical love story set during the time of the Restoration

SHADOW WARRIOR - a detective thriller with more than a hint of demon romance

EMPIRE OF ICE - a dark urban fantasy about a secret Nazi superman formula with the power to create vampires.

