Page 89 of Stripped By the Alien

He walks up to us, moving freely and with no hurry, his Inquisitor's sash tight against his chest. “I shall board your ship shortly. Kindly prepare a suitable stateroom for me. And I need room for the tools of my trade. A storage space about a quarter of the size of the Queen’s chamber will suffice. Add some metal piping in random shapes. About five hundred paces of it in total.”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” I say. There’s no reason to bicker about it. “Will you be bringing assistants?”

He gives me a barren smile. “Oh, my main tool is also my assistant. You will see. I so look forward to getting to know the intrepid and famous Chief Harrower Krix’vorr much better.” He looks down at Nora. “And your intriguing alien pet. Or is she something more than entertainment, perhaps? Such a delightful mystery!”

“Actually,” Nora says very clearly, “I’m an officer of Space Force, a scout from the 102nd Recon Squadron. Captain Nora Ellis. I am an active member of the Armed Forces, and I will absolutely take you the fuck out if you do anything I perceive as threatening. Just so you know.” She gives him a sweet smile.

The Inquisitor’s smile fades as he hears the translation. Then he catches himself. “Ah. A fiery species. I shall take my precautions, alien. But let’s hope it all happens peacefully. I will see you very soon.”

He turns his back and saunters off.

“That,” I manage, half stunned by Nora's calm threat, “was either very stupid or only moderately so. In any case, you’re magnificent.”

Nora shrugs her thin shoulders. “He should know whom he’s dealing with. So, while we’re here in the Nest, is there any chance you could find some better clothing for me?”

26

- Nora -

While we walk out of the Nest, Krix’vorr grabs hold of probably a half dozen random servants and commands them to find fabrics for me. They all scurry off, and I’m sure at least some of them will come through. Of course I don’t expect anyone here to make actual clothes, although I’ve seen some of them wearing rags of various types. But I’d be fine with a wrap that’s easier to deal with than this silly tape.

Back inside the Beast, Krix’vorr barks orders to the crew and they scramble to get the ship ready for departure. The Beast herself seems fine with it, and the pulsation everywhere picks up in strength and speed.

“She’s excited,” Krix’vorr tells me as we enter his chamber. “She likes space and the prospects of battle. Lying still in a stall was never her favorite.”

The membrane closes and I turn to embrace him. “Thank you for protecting me and Earth. I know you took a big risk.”

“Simply being alive is a big risk,” he rumbles, making me shake. “And I find risks make me feel more alive. Or maybe it’s you. But of course you are a risk, too. A major risk.”

“That thing about the new queen,” I start carefully. “And the new Royal Mate. Was that about you?”

“Partly, I think. The new Queen will need a Royal Mate right away. He has to be a good one. This was the queen telling us that she hasn’t found one yet.”

“And you are one option.”

“I am an obvious option,” he admits. “But it’s important that the new Royal Mate actually wants the position.”

“Is it an option that excites you?” I ask. “I can see that a Royal Mate could be powerful.”

“Power is useful,” he says. “But not at any cost.” He kisses my hair and disentangles himself. “Now I have to prepare for the Inquisitor. His tools need a room full of metal pipes, for some reason. Wait here and I’ll send any new clothing this way. And some food.” He leaves the chamber.

I sit down on his high, alien bed, more worried than before the audience. I may have been too tough on that Inquisitor. I’m not in a position of strength here, and we all know it. But I’m a soldier, not a diplomat or a spy. It’s not like I told him anything important, and even a dying world can have scouts.

The membrane opens and Lucius comes whirring. “Ah. Back again, Captain. Good news from the audience?”

“Oh, the best. They didn’t buy my Earth-is-dying thing, Krix’vorr committed to finding the Gzet homeworld or they’ll kill us both, and the Queen is retiring and she wants someone to be the next Royal Mate, with Krix’vorr as a leading candidate.”

The drone hovers in mid-air. “And you consider this ‘the best’ news? On which scale can this possibly– oh, I see. You were being sarcastic. Sorry, I’ve been spending time inside the mind of this space-going animal and it’s made me literal-minded. It all sounds like terrible news.”

“It’s terrible,” I sigh, “and that’s not all. We’re going to be babysat by an Inquisitor while we search for the Gzet. And I kind of told him I’ll kill him if he looks at me wrong. I’m not sure that made things better.”

“Sometimes it’s better to seem strong than weak,” the drone tries to console me. “Especially if you look weak, as you do.”

I sigh again. “Thanks. That’s a real pick-me-up. Did you make any progress in that coral forest of memories?”

“Oh yes. Progress was made. The structure is actually quite fascinating, not unlike a non-eulerian Fourier transform, but backwards. I can now make sense of it, but it takes time and there’s a lot to go through. Well, you saw how much there is.”

“Can you do it? Go through all of it?”