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Sean
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“Geri, Geri.” I repeatedly tap her cheeks. “Stay with me, honey. Come on. Wake up.” But she’s not responding. She’s out.
Thing is I don’t know if she’s punch drunk on top of not getting enough oxygen. The swelling and tenderness on her right side definitely point toward broken ribs and a possible punctured lung, maybe even both lungs. But the contusions on her head are harder to diagnose. They could be superficial, or they may be deep enough to cause swelling of the brain.
The one thing I do know for sure is that she needs oxygen, and I happen to have my oxygen enhancer in my pocket. It doesn’t deliver the high doses that an oxygen device does, but it’s better than nothing.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get it out and unraveled. How is it that I can handle a ten-foot Saurian assassin with vigor, but the second someone I love is in danger of dying, I’m a mess. And this is the time I need to keep it together, because if I blow this, if I make a mistake with Geri’s life...
I can’t even finish the thought.
I put every ounce of my concentration into unraveling the oxygen enhancer and fitting it into Geri’s nose, reassuring myself that the EUC has contacted the Pleiadians as promised. But still, just in case, I close my eyes and focus on calling the emissary so they know how urgent the situation is.
It’s difficult to relax with all this adrenaline pumping through me, especially since I know the price of what I’m doing. It would be better to take her to a human hospital, but I can’t pick her up without injuring her more, possibly killing her. It’s the only way to save her. So I put my thoughts through the paces of telepathy, sending an SOS over and over again, praying I make contact.
Emissary: Peace to you, Sean.
I almost cry with relief when the emissary pops into my head. Now I need to unscramble my thoughts and put them into some semblance of order. I begin by sending the pictures in my mind’s eye of the scene around me—the dead Saurian, Geri, Kasnid, Whitman, and Bale.
Emissary: The EUC ambassadress has contacted us, and we have already dispatched a team to your location. They should be there any second now. We are told that you killed the Saurian.
Me: Yes, Emissary. It gave me no choice. It deliberately provoked me by threatening the lives of the Migoi and the woman.
Emissary: It was a representative of the Ninth Royal House?
Me: The royal insignia is emblazoned on its tunic.
Emissary: Ensure that the EUC officers on the scene return here for debriefing. The ambassadress is en route.
Me: Please ask the team to hurry.
I open my eyes and bring my focus back to Geri. Her short, quick, labored breaths make me anxious.
Spinning around on my haunches, I check on Kasnid. “How’s he doing?” I ask Bale and Whitman.
“Still has a heartbeat,” Whitman says. Between him and Bale, they’ve stabilized Kasnid’s broken arm and are working on his leg. “It’s difficult to get a good handle on the extent of his injuries under all this fur, but it’s safe to say he’s messed up. He had the proverbial crap kicked out of him.”
“A Pleiadian team is on the way and should be here any minute,” I say. “They’ve requested you come back with them for a debriefing.”
Whitman shoots to his feet, eyes narrowed. “We’re not going on the ship without an EUC councilor present.”
“The ambassadress is on her way.” I turn back to Geri. Her breathing is still shallow and labored. No change.
“Then we’ll wait until she arrives,” Whitman insists.
“What’s the big deal?” Bale asks.
“The big deal is that the Pleiadians can do whatever they want with us once we’re on that ship and then tell the EUC it was an accident,” Whitman says. “Don’t forget, we saw what this guy can do. And as Eastman pointed out, we’re red shirts—nothing but expendable minions.”
“Shit,” Bale says, and I hear him getting to his feet behind me.
“Not so nice having the tables turned, is it, boys?” I ask, taking Geri’s pulse and wondering what is taking the team so long.
“We should leave,” Bale says, already starting to bolt.
I look at them over my shoulder. “Calm down. Killing is the EUC way, not the Pleiadian way.”
Then I feel the Pleiadians approaching. They’re finally here.
“Should we believe him?” Bale asks.
“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Whitman says, just as Rammil and Eustas come into view.
“What the...” Bale’s voice trails off in awe, and I’m guessing this is the first time the rookie has seen a Pleiadian in person.
They are quite a stunning race. As someone who was born and raised on the Pleiadian spaceship until I was five, I grew up under the impression that I was the alien, a substandard physical specimen compared to the angelic elegance of my creators. They are tall, thin, and lithe, with pale complexions, silvery-blond hair, and big, almond-shaped, crystal-blue eyes set in thin faces with fine features. Those humans who have seen them in person often describe them as Light Beings or Tall Blonds.
The only things marring their perfection at the moment are the breathing apparatuses they require to filter Earth’s oxygen-rich atmosphere.
I stand and greet them with the customary bow.
We must work quickly, Eustas says.
The Saurians know, Rammil says.
Four more Pleiadians come into view, carrying litters—small, tubular, watertight vessels, which they’ll use to transport the injured to the bottom of the lake and onto the spaceship. The only one of the four I recognize is Mlindr, a doctor involved in the human-hybrid program I’m a result of. I’m not surprised when she heads straight for Geri.
I move out of her way with mixed feelings. Mlindr is the kind of surgeon who could put Humpty Dumpty back together without even breaking a sweat, so there’s no doubt in my mind she can save Geri. But I also know the cost. Human female eggs are a vital component of the hybrid program, and the Pleiadians don’t exactly have a pool of volunteers to draw from. Although it wasn’t the only reason the Pleiadians were keen to help Lisa Hornsby, it was definitely one of the deciding factors when weighing the risks of going against MWA law to save her. Geri’s case will be no different, and although she’ll never know some of her eggs are missing, I will.
Mlindr and her assistant start stabilizing Geri for the short journey with quick efficiency, while the other team works on Kasnid. I’m feeling in the way.
Eustas and Rammil are putting a harness around the dead Saurian so they can drag the body to the lake and down to the ship. I beckon to Whitman and Bale. “Let’s give them a hand getting His Highness out of here.” The two EUC officers exchange a nervous glance. “It’ll score you some brownie points,” I say with caustic humor, even though they’re not in any danger from the Pleiadians. It’s their own people they need to worry about.
The entire site is “cleaned” in less than five minutes. The injured are stabilized and put in the litters, and the area is cleansed of any remnants left behind from the fight. As I drag the Saurian toward the lake, Eustas and Rammil bring up the rear of our eclectic group, sweeping away all traces of our passing.
I forgo a lift in a submersible with Whitman and Bale, needing the shock value of a cold dip in the lake while dragging my kill behind me.
I don’t have to tell Geri, right? She’ll never even know Mlindr harvested some of her eggs.