Alien Miner's Bride: A New Adult Science Fiction Romance (Moon Company Brides Book 1) Read online

  I read the Moon Company ad a few more times as if the information will change. I decide to place the call.

  It is a receptionist bot who has answered the phone no doubt.

  “Yes,” I say, “my name is Xerxes Nic. I wish to schedule an appointment to procure a human wife.”

  “Congratulations, Mr. Xerxes Nic. A beautiful wife awaits you.”

  “I doubt that,” I murmur.

  “Pardon me,” the receptionist bot says.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Thank you very much.”

  “When can you come in for an appointment, Sir?”

  “I believe I should be able to come at D time.”

  “You’re in luck. We have D time available. You are scheduled now. A confirmation will be sent.”

  Next, I hear nothing but empty space. A few moments later, my tablet chimes. I tap the small handheld piece of glass. The entire thing is so small that it fits in my hand. The receptionist bot has sent me my confirmation. I have an appointment for D hour.

  The problem is that I am supposed to be at work on the asteroid called Clint 8765. The foreman there isn’t the nicest creature. He’s Sewvian like me, but he throws his weight around as if he’s somehow trying to prove that he isn’t playing favorites to other Sewvians who work in the mine.

  It’s no surprise that many Sewvians work on the asteroids. We are built for it, naturally. We have an immense amount of endurance. Our endurance outlasts a human’s endurance 3:1. We have little need for sleep. Like everyone else, however, we have to wear a suit. We cannot breathe on the asteroid without it. The air composition on Sewvi is very similar to Earth’s.

  There are however mining stations on Clint where we are allowed to live if we so choose. I choose to live in my mobile parked conveniently outside of Clint. It is fully equipped with a place to sleep, a place to wash, and it gets me around. I don’t like the idea of being packed with a bunch of beings just like flippiants in a jar—that’s what it feels like to live in the housing facilities on Clint.

  Speaking of flippiants, I open a jar of them. When I made the exodus, I brought two cases of flippiant jars with me. I slide the slick gray, slimy flippiant from amongst many and suck it into my mouth. Jarred flippiants have their fins and eyes removed. My favorite part is the tail. It has a very alkaline flavor that I love.

  When I am finished with my snack, I maneuver my mobil to Clint 8765 and dock in one of the stations designated for employees.

  I’m going to have to confront Wix, my foreman, and ask him for time off around the D hour. I take the shuttle down to the mine, enter the station, change into my mining gear, and go out on Clint.

  The surface of Clint is red. Its primary deposits include ice, which is excavated and used for far out places, and nickel ore. It is very much unlike my sweet Gargantua which promises to have very rich amounts of palladium, a mineral more precious than platinum.

  My suit consists of a helmet, which protects me from hazards and provides a hospitable breathing environment, a fire retardant suit, and boots which attach to the suit with heavy metal clips. I’ll admit that it is a bit hard to move around in the suit. My body’s size makes the cost of the suit almost prohibitive, but luckily for me, I have enough treasure to trade-in for credits that I can I use to procure my basic needs.

  I have tried to ask around, to find out how much a Moon Company Bride costs, but those who have one refuse to tell me. They say that it would be uncouth for them to say how much they paid for their wives. So, I’ve set aside a great deal of credits in case it is extremely costly. I don’t mind. I see it as an investment.

  I hear stories on the lines sometimes, stories about human wives and their strange habits, along with their alleged crazy demands. I am not sure whether these beings exaggerate their experience to have a greater story to tell, or maybe what they say is true. I’ve never had an intimate one on one encounter with a human. I have some many questions.

  Even on Sewvi, when the envoys came to begin the exodus, I did not have much interaction with humans, except for those who taught the human language classes at school, but I hardly learned much about them. There were rules of engagement for the human visitors to our world.

  All I could really glean was that they were much smaller than the average Sewvian. Now that I am in the Teros system, I see that their diminutive size still stands. Okay, maybe diminutive is an extreme word, but it makes me smile to use it.

  Besides our size and endurance, we have other physical characteristics which differentiate us from humans and other species from the Protean system. Our skin, for instance, is of a grayish color and is practically translucent. You can see the veins of a Sewvian through their skin, and you can see the coolean run through the veins.

  Generally, Sewvians share the same basic complexion. Some Sewvians may have a more purplish undertone to their skin, while others have a more bluish undertone. It depends on the type of coolean combination that runs through one’s veins. My skin has a more purplish tint, overall because I have more of the alpha strain of coolean running through my body. Coolean is like human blood. The Coolean powers the Sewvian and requires a certain environment and proper circulation to thrive. I also have sharp teeth. Every tooth in my mouth is sharper than average human incisor. Unlike some Sewvians, I have not covered my teeth with metals or jewels. I don’t know why I do not do it. I suppose I like the plain white gleam of my teeth the way they are. Sometimes with flat straight toothers look at me and show them my teeth just to scare them.

  I stand on the line doing my job, operating the drill, next to others. Here in the mine, there are all races, some with metal teeth, some with sharp teeth, some with straight teeth, and some with no teeth at all.

  The lines are labeled for us when we come into work. On small tablets, we have maps which tell us where we should ride the buggies, in other words, where our lines are for the day. I have four lines a day usually, but for some reason today, I suddenly get a message from Wix Loc, the mine foreman, saying that another line has been added to my ledger.

  I message him back, asking him if I might have a word with him. It’s dishonest, but I plan on lying to him. I’m going to tell him that I have a medical appointment. I think I’ll make up something excruciating like that I have a mysterious ache in my balls.

  The foreman sends me a message saying that I may pay him a visit now. I tidy my line and get back in my buggy. I drive to the foreman’s station, rolling over mounds of bumpy rock, and take the tunnel up to the inside of the foreman’s station.

  It’s a pain to remove my helmet and suit, but I have to do take it off. We’re not allowed to wear the suits inside of the stations except to put a suit on, and take a suit off. I’m wearing my undergear, which consists of thin white pants and a thin white shirt. I am barefoot. I like it that way. I wish I could go around barefooted more often.

  I slap my feet loudly against the floor planks as I walk to the foreman’s office. I like the ring it has, the sound of my large feet slapping triumphantly against the floor.

  The Foreman’s actual office, where he sits, not where his assistants work, is at the back of the station. When you look out the windows in his office, it looks as if his office is hanging off of the edge of Clint.

  As is custom for Sewvians, Wix Loc tips his head toward me and opens his hand. I place my hand on his and slide it slowly across. This means that I accept his invitation and that I come in peace.

  Wix has more of the beta coolean running through his veins I think, so were different shades of gray and purple-blue.

  “Have a seat Xerxes,” he says.

  “Thank you, Wix Loc. How is your time?”

  “Fine, and yours.”

  I grab my crotch, fully committed to my plan. “I’ve got this awful ache in my balls,” I say. “I have no idea what is causing it, perhaps there is some kind of blockage. I have heard of Sewvian males dying from such blockages, where the coolean is kept from circulating.

  Wix Loc seems pleased at my di
scomfort as he’s sort of grinning rather than showing any facial signs of pity. I wince to make my story more convincing, and I moan.

  “I have a medical appointment at D hour,” I say. “Would it be possible for me to take off at C hour, to give me enough time to make my study appointment?”

  “I don’t know,” Wix Loc says. “We need you for that extra line today.”

  “I may not be able to do a line tomorrow if I cannot be excused to have my problem studied.”

  “Do you take this job seriously, Xerxes Nic?”

  “Of course I do. Why would I not?”

  Wix Loc pulls on his lips and releases them. “You have more treasures than some of us. I hear that you have enough to feed ten Sewvian families for the length of their lives.”

  “I do not know where you hear that from, Wix Loc,” I say. “I was sworn by my parents never to say how much was given me. They made me swear this not only for the sake of their privacy but also for my own sake. It would not be wise to go around broadcasting the amount of my treasure stores. Someone might challenge me for my treasures, and it’s very hard for me to turn down a challenge.”

  On Sewvi, one can challenge another for their treasures. The winner takes all. The loser dies.

  Wix Loc shrugs. I know he doesn’t want to challenge me. He would never win, and besides it wouldn’t bode well for me to engage in a challenge with my foreman. If Wix Loc were to lose, he’d undoubtedly take it out on me. I don’t want to leave my work at Clint until I am ready to do so, and that will not be until I have had the time to enact my plan.

  Wix Loc sighs. Slams his hands down on his desk. “You may make your appointment, Xerxes Nic, but don’t let this become a habit. Next time make your appointment for before or after normal duty hour.” He stares at me coldly, like he wants to punch me instead of dismissing me.

  I thank Wix Loc and excuse myself. I go through the additional trouble of getting back into my suit. I feel as if it is completely worth it, all the trouble I had to go through with Wix Loc to get the time off of work.

  I go back to work in the mine. I have just enough time to finish the line I’m working on. After I’m finished with the line, I make the trek back to my mobil, clean myself up, and head to the Ceres Super Mall where the Moon Company satellite office is located.

  The Ceres Super Mall is located on the dwarf planet Ceres. The Ceres mall is a huge complex full of all sorts of shopping, eating, and entertainment opportunities. I rarely go there. I see it as a drain on my credit cache, but of course, today is a special occasion.

  I make sure to eat four flippiants before leaving my mobil so that I do not have to buy anything to eat. Once I park at a docking station, I take the shuttle to the mall. I get off the shuttle with hardly any time to spare. I run to the Moon Company office so that I do not miss my appointment. When I get there, the doors slide open for me.

  A receptionist bot approaches me. She is bald like me, except that her body is made of a combination of metals, plastic, and bioficial tissues. She is dressed in typical Teros clothes. “Mr. Xerxes Nic, welcome to Moon Company Brides where a bright and happy future awaits you.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  The inside of the office is white. Everything is white, even the receptionist bot who has welcomed me is plated with ivory. The lights are bright in the office, and it smells of native flowers.

  “Come Mr. Nic,” the receptionist bot says, “Agent Olivinia Evawa is waiting for you.”

  “Okay,” I say. I follow the receptionist bot down a white hall. The lights in the office don’t dim, unfortunately. I rub my eyes.

  “Here.”

  The doors slide open. I peek inside the room. A small woman with short black hair and icy blue eyes stands up from behind her desk. She’s wearing a white dress and white lipstick. Her nails are also painted white. She smiles.

  “Welcome, Mr. Nic. So happy to have you. Please have a seat.”

  I take a seat. The doors close behind me.

  Olivinia Evawa beams at me. “Thanks for seeing me,” I say.

  “My pleasure, Sir. We have had many Sewvian clients before. And may I tell you that they are all pleased with our service thus far. Some have even submitted for offspring permits.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. You know, some may judge and say that by procuring yourself a human wife that you are fetishizing human women. In some cases that may be so, but let me say that to mix our race with yours is beautiful. Have you seen a human/Sewvian hybrid child?”

  “I’ve seen a couple.”

  “They are gorgeous aren’t they?”

  I frown. “I suppose so, although they are not as lovely as fully Sewvian offspring.”

  Olivinia Evawa raises an eyebrow at me. I almost choke on my words. “I didn’t mean to say that. To say that would imply that I find humans to be unattractive. That is not so. You are a very fine species indeed.”

  “I understand, Mr. Nic. It is difficult to lose your home. You worry about the watering down of your heritage, but may I say that some look forward to a future when all of our cultures are blended together. Perhaps someday, we make a super-culture full of all of the cultures of our universe.”

  I try not to frown. “Losing one’s home is quite difficult, but I am committed to making a new home here.”

  “Is that so?” Mr. Nic.

  “Very much so.”

  “Do we have to worry about you procuring a human wife only for the sake of the social benefits it provides? You know, such as obtaining property ownership?”

  “Oh no, I’d never do that,” I lie.

  “Good then. Sorry, but I have to ask. We can never be sure, you know. Please be aware that, should your bride complain to us in the aftermath of the marriage that she discovers that her marriage is based only on your sole wish to obtain property, we will not hesitate to dissolve the marriage right away. It’s in the contract. We will also need to conduct a background investigation and verify employment.”

  “I see,” I say. “I will absolutely honor the contract and comply with your processes.”

  Olivinia Evawa clasps her hands together. “Good then. Now that we’re clear on that, we can move on to the fun part. Time to pick a wife.”

  She taps on her tablet. Hers is even smaller than mine. It’s edged with gold. A picture appears in the air right in front of me. “Wow,” I say.

  “I know. She’s beautiful isn’t she?”

  “Um yes,” I say, lying again. The human woman up on the screen is okay I suppose. I’m not well versed in the looks of humans.

  “Here,” Olivinia Evawa says, handing me her tablet. “Click through these pictures. They’re narrated, so you will also get a brief biography of the women you are seeing. When you happen upon one you like, tap that green button at the bottom of my tablet screen, and I’ll come back in. It’s been my experience that clients get nervous when someone is watching them make their selection, so it’s been in my latest practice to leave clients alone. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Good luck, Mr. Nic.”

  Olivinia Evawa sashays out of her office. She’s not too bad looking for a human. When she’s gone, I remember that I forgot to ask how much the service will cost. I deliberate over whether I should call her back or decide to let it be for now. I’ll scroll through the women.

  I flip through them one by one, not taking any time to listen to the biographies because I simply do not care. I suppose I’m looking for the least annoying looking one, whatever that means.

  Eventually, I happen up a human woman that I think may do. I even take the time to listen to her biography.

  She has golden skin. Her eyes are dark brown. Her hair is long and brown. She has a nice pert little mouth, beautiful smooth skin overall, but there’s something a bit wild in her eyes. I suppose wild eyes should be a turn-off. It may mean that means trouble, but the ones with dull eyes look to be an absolute bore.

  I have no intention of actually
loving anyone, don’t misunderstand, but I do plan to treat my human wife well enough so that she won’t be able to tell that I’m only using her for the land ownership.

  I have never been in a committed relationship. On Sewvi, I had sex with as many females as my body would allow. I enjoyed it and so did they, but no one insisted on marriage.

  Sewvian courting works differently from Teros customs. We are allowed to sample a mate, even declare a temporary bond, and should it not work in the allotted time; we are allowed to dissolve such bonds without any penalty.

  I have never even made it as far as the temporary bond. My mother impressed upon me, right before I left Sewvi, that I ought to settle down with someone, in order to pass down the family name.

  I’m almost certain she doesn’t intend for me to settle down with a human woman. I’m not sure she’ll take it too well if she finds out, but I’m still holding out hope that I will be able to convince her and my father to travel to one of the other planets in the next few turns for a passage on an Exodus ship. They would have to travel to another world in Protos to catch one of the last ships. I am willing to pay the price.

  It saddens me to think that they will not change their minds. I am especially sad for my little brother Yumi that he may have to experience these further years without our parents. I believe he could still benefit from their influence.

  I listen as a soft voice tells me about the woman that I have selected for marriage. Her name is Juno Vivey. She hails from Earth’s moon. She enjoys swimming and dancing.

  I press the green button. Olivinia Evawa enters the room so fast. I figure maybe she must have been standing right outside the door.

  “Ah, this one,” she says, taking a seat behind her desk. She holds her hand out. I assume it’s so that I can place her tablet in her hand, and so I give her tablet back. “She’s new, that one there, but she’s here now, believe it or not. If you sign the contract, there will hardly be any wait to take possession of her.”