Page 10 of Alien Rescue

A young man with the same coloring as Rose, but not as pretty, carried a large cardboard with the words, Kill all aliens. Zanr smirked at the image. They could try.

Aliens must fall. He looked at Zurian. “Fall where? Zyrgin warriors are sure-footed.”

“Idiots.” Zurian sneered.

“As you’re aware, we’re doing things differently with this conquest,” Zacar said. Zanr wasn’t sold on the new methods. If they’d stuck to their normal conquest, all those protesting humans would be dead. What’s next, training females to be warriors?

Zacar called up a new image. “I allowed the humans to continue ruling themselves until now, but they are using the protests as excuses to loot and harm each other. I plan to tighten the reins.”

“Yes, my leader.” He didn’t understand why Zacar had allowed them so much freedom, but who was he, a bloodless warrior, to judge his leader?

“That is not why I called you in.”

Zanr stood taller. He wasn’t one of the inner circle and didn’t expect to be given an important mission for many decades to come. Zacar only called in a warrior if he wanted to send them on a mission. It might be that Zacar was aware of him through his friendship with Larz. Or he was satisfied with the job he did with the building in Washington. Whatever it was, he’d take it.

Zacar was quiet for a long moment and then said suddenly, “Your breeder is still recovering?”

Zanr should be gratified that his leader would care about the breeder of a lowly ranked, bloodless warrior. He knew his bloodless status meant he’d probably never advance too high. But that he was accepted on the conquest was all due to Zacar’s willingness to take a chance on misfits. Even so, he’d prefer them not to focus on his breeder. She was for him alone.

“She is a strong female; she is recovering fast,” he said with pride.

Zurian called up another screen, but Zanr kept his focus on Zacar, as was proper.

“That is good, because we need to use your breeder to find traitors in our ranks,” Zacar said.

The shock held him absolutely still, even as it felt as if he’d taken a punch to the side of his head.

Chapter Five

Zanr had to concentrate hard not to stumble, to stare straight in front of him. Like all warriors he was in excellent health, but something was wrong with his lungs. It felt as if they contracted, making it difficult to breathe; even his heartbeat stopped for one, agonising second.

Zacar was a warrior he looked up to, the closest blood of the Parenadorz. And yet he’d just betrayed his trust in the cruelest way possible. Why allow him a breeder when Zacar planned to take her away from him?

Never did he expect to be treated with such a lack of respect from Zacar. He’d even come to believe that one day, he might be given a higher rank.

Zanr stared at his leader, barely aware that, slowly and with stealth, his claws extended. “Zyrgin warriors do not use their females such.” That was a code no warrior would ever break. There was an unpleasant buzzing in his ears, as if the bees they’d reintroduced to Earth, swarmed around his head.

“Retract your claws, warrior. I will not harm your breeder,” Zacar said. He held up a hand when Zanr opened his mouth. “Listen first.” Zanr would listen, but he would not allow them to use Rose in any of their plans.

“Remember the equipment failure a year ago?” Zurian asked.

“Yes.” Zurian’s breeder’s translator malfunctioned and almost killed her. Zanr had trouble concentrating—his blood felt as if it literally boiled in his veins. Why his breeder? Were they going to put a translator in her head, even before they were sure all of them functioned?

“It was sabotage,” Zacar said.

“Several of the translators meant for breeders malfunctioned,” Zurian said, a bite of remembered pain in his voice.

“My own translator took longer than it should’ve to start translating the primitive human language,” Zacar added.

That still didn’t explain why they wanted to use his breeder like a common warrior. “Why my breeder?” He glared at Zacar, a Zyrgin he had looked up to. “It’s because I have no blood.” The betrayal he felt was as bad as the day he’d realized his own blood would abandon him to the elements.

Zacar clasped his shoulder in a grip so hard, Zanr’s knees nearly buckled. With his blood from the Parenadorz, Zacar was stronger than any warrior on Earth. “I respect you as a warrior. Never would I act without honor toward you because of your blood.” Zanr noticed he didn’t say lack of blood.

Zacar released his tough grip on Zanr’s shoulder and continued, “A terrorist cell, made up of dissidents from our conquered planets, is working to destroy our empire.”

“That’s impossible.” Their empire was great, indestructible, and just. He’d been so furious about their threat to his breeder, the rest of Zacar’s words had gone past him.

Zacar balled his fists. “Any empire can be destroyed. But you will not repeat this to other warriors.”

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