Asmodel (Alien Legacy Brotherhood #2)

2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A t the hidden moon city of Azadi, present day

Asmodel sat at the round conference table, tapping his finger on the surface. He half-listened to the intense conversation bouncing around him, losing interest the moment he sat down.

He was too busy trying to remember the dream he’d had the previous night. The image of a pretty, dark-haired woman was vague, but her sense of warmth and welcoming presence made it hard for him to forget her. What was frustrating was no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get a clear picture of what she looked like. Even so, deep inside he knew she was real and somehow important to him.

When the chancellor claimed everything was in order, Asmodel blinked and tried to recall what was said that could have involved him.

He glanced at his brothers’ smug expressions as they all nodded to each other with satisfied smirks. Oh, for the love of a motherless goat . No telling what they’d volunteered him for.

The chancellor of the Federation Consortium, an alien Zerin named D’zia E’etu, was in holographic form. The fellow was actually at his palace on a space station orbiting his home planet.

Asmodel straightened and narrowed his eyes, taking in the expressions of everyone in the room. Good. At least it didn’t look like anyone noticed he’d tuned them out.

“It’s settled, then.” The chancellor’s hologram pounded his fist on the table where he was. “The four of you will go to FiPan and see what you can find out about those missing women. If you need any other assistance from us, don’t hesitate to ask.” The alien’s blond hair lifted and settled over his shoulders as if it was a separate limb moving out of the way when he sat back in his seat. With a slight wave, he and the other holograms from Zerin disappeared.

His older brother Adapa, the undisputed leader of their merry little band of runaway slaves from Akurn, was staring at his next-to-the-eldest brother, Abalim.

When nobody spoke, Asmodel brought up the one thing that bothered him since he heard about the missing human women. “Why weren’t the women in the exchange program safe? I thought the Zerins were an advanced civilization.”

Adapa and Inanna looked at each other before his brother shrugged. “They assured us they had everything under control in their exchange program when they first approached us.”

Asmodel shared a snort with Abalim.

And another thing…

“Doesn’t anyone else find it strange only four women are missing?” Asmodel smirked. “And there are four of us with nothing better to do?”

That last part galled him. Because of the alien attack by their creators, the Akurns, forced Azazel to pull him and his three brothers seven thousand years into the future, he’d been at loose ends. The monumental task of preventing eight billion humans from realizing they’d just survived an alien invasion left the four of them with little to contribute. Despite their powerful psionic abilities, the modern world confused them. Finding where they fit in turned into an insurmountable task.

Not that any of them would admit it to each other. Or even to themselves.

“Well—” Queen Inanna, his sister-in-law, touched her fingertips together and leaned back. “—we don’t know for sure that’s all who’s missing. We must wait for the Zerins to check their records and account for every human who boarded the ship for the exchange.”

Asmodel grunted.

“Damned careless, if you ask me,” Adapa muttered under his breath before clearing his throat and continuing in a louder voice. “I agree when they first came to us about asking human women to join the exchange, we shouldn’t have assumed they had everything under control.”

“I’m sure they had every reason to believe they weren’t putting human women in danger.” His brother Azazel spoke in a soft, firm tone. “But no matter how diligent one believes they are, those who seek to benefit themselves, even at the expense of others, are everywhere. No matter how carefully you strive to ensure those working with you are trustworthy, betrayal can still occur. I’m certain they were unaware of the deception.”

Asmodel nodded, putting his elbow on the armrest, and supporting his chin on his fist.

Inanna laced her fingers together and nodded. “So true. I believe Prince Qay did not know this was happening on his ship. Or he would have taken immediate action.”

“There’s no doubt the deceased Chancellor U’unk took advantage of the prince’s exile to install his covert operatives. It gave him an opportunity to not only steal these needed females, but the fallout, if discovered, would have disrupted Qay’s bid to get back into his father’s good graces. Which would have left Zerin ripe for a revolt.” Abalim interjected his analysis. “That’s how bad guys work. Even today, assholes like that are everywhere.” His tone was bitter.

Asmodel nodded, his jaw tightening. The Akurn scientists had violated their own protocols to create him and his brothers, to use as slaves for their own selfish purposes despite it being illegal. That was a perfect example of people committing harmful acts, regardless of the cost to those suffering under their thoughtless whims.

“While that’s true, that’s not what’s bothering you. What’s going on, Abalim?”

Adapa’s sharp tone made Asmodel catch his breath. He agreed with Adapa. It was subtle, but there was a psychic block from Abalim that wasn’t normally there. Their even-keeled brother had previously held nothing back from them. Now that he thought about it, Abalim’d been standoffish since his return from the desert planetoid Hiigar. There had to be something going on with him. Something he didn’t want to share.

“Yeah, Brother. Just make it easy for yourself and confess. No need to get your panties twisted in a knot,” Arakiba piped up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Abalim groused in a rumbling voice. He glared at Adapa across from him.

I need to speak to you alone.

Asmodel snorted. He couldn’t believe the idiot didn’t know their supposed private path wasn’t so private.

Oh please . Like we’d let you get away with that stupid idea.

Asmodel swung his gaze to Asmodel when he spoke psychically on the same path.

You only thought we couldn’t hear you. Dumbass. Arakiba added.

What he said. Both he and Azazel said that at the same time with a nod. No doubt their smirks matched.

Well, fruk. Abalim tugged on his earlobe with a sheepish grin.

After some teasing and complaining back and forth, Abalim agreed to tell them what bothered him. “While I was on Hiigar searching for Althea MacGregor, I came across this.” He shrugged his right shoulder where a small silver-and-green spider-shaped robot named JR15 sat.

Asmodel admired the small AI given to Abalim when he went to that small planetoid to find the human woman. He’d love to have a companion like that.

“Go ahead, show them.” Abalim encouraged his bot in a soft voice.

The tiny bot shivered before wagging his bulbous butt. In the center of his forehead, a round lens opened, and a video displayed on the center of the table.

Watching the interaction between Abalim and the blue crystal creature was mind-numbing. The threat the creature presented made the invasion from the Akurns look like child’s play.

When the scene ended, Abalim’s tiny companion scuttled back under his dreadlocks.

“Damn. Fruk me sideways.”

As usual, his elder brother Adapa summed it up best.

“Come on, you mulla xuls .” Adapa announced. “I’ve a surprise for you.”

“I’ve got your evil devil right here.” Arakiba hopped away from his seat and cupped himself with a lopsided grin.

Adapa ignored Arakiba and stood.

His mate, Queen Inanna, put her arm through his elbow and headed out the door with him.

The rest of them followed.

Asmodel gripped his hand into a fist to stop from slapping Arakiba upside his head. What a thing to say in front of the queen.

“Where in the world did you learn to act like that?” He hissed in a quiet tone to his unrepentant brother. His face heated when Inanna looked over her shoulder at them with her eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled.

As usual, Arakiba was oblivious.

“You know all those movies we watched?”

At Asmodel’s nod, he continued. “You can learn a lot about modern culture in those American and British television shows. It’s a great way for me to hear the colorful language used today.” His grin turned into a laugh. “I can’t think of a better way to learn about modern life.” He shrugged. “Except maybe social media.”

Inanna smiled at them before she turned to whisper something to Adapa, making him throw his head back and laugh.

Asmodel relaxed. Thank the goddess, the queen wasn’t offended. “I doubt they reflect real life, Arakiba.”

“Of course they do!” His blond brother exclaimed. “Especially things posted on the internet. No one would dare put lies there. They’d be kicked off like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Asmodel opened his mouth to argue when Azazel patted his shoulder.

“Remember, never argue with delusional people. They’ll drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.”

Asmodel raised his left eyebrow and glanced at his shorter brother. “Did you just make that up?”

Their quiet brother chuckled with a soft smile and shook his head. “No. Unlike the rest of you, I’ve immersed myself in human literature. That’s a portion of a quote from the great American writer Mark Twain.”

Asmodel chuckled. “Well, Arakiba is far from stupid, but he has a lot to learn about the modern world. I guess I’ll follow your lead about the so-called entertainment business. I find sitting around watching all that boring.” He eyed the back of Arakiba. “But it has given me some ideas on how to teach that fool a lesson.”

“If you needed any help with that, just ask.” The twinkle in Azazel’s eyes matched his slight smile. “You know I’d love to help.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I can handle Arakiba.”

“I know you can,” Azazel agreed. “That’s what worries me.”

“Over here.” Adapa and Inanna led them into a small family room.

Asmodel stepped into a room both unfamiliar and inviting.

The warm glow of the recessed ceiling lights and strategically placed orbs compensated for the absence of natural light and created soft shadows across the room. The harmonious balance between the modern comforts and the rustic, earthy ambiance of the alien subterranean haven was homey and inviting.

A soothing vid depicting the natural landscape of the planet Akurn adorned the far wall. The raw beauty of exposed stone or brickwork left visible on the other walls lent an authentic, cavernous vibe to the space.

As Asmodel walked by, he ran his fingers over the textured surface and marveled at the blend of nature and craftsmanship. Facing the room, he was drawn to the center, where a plush navy-blue sofa beckoned. Lying on those soft cushions would help take his cares away. A place to unwind among various pillows scattered in different colors and sizes.

A heavy wooden coffee table, worn yet elegant, stood as a centerpiece in front of it. Across the room were well-stocked bookshelves filled with scrolls, hardbound books, and ePads waiting to be used. The artwork and digital photographs around the room added personal touches to the place.

It was the type of room he’d dreamed about enjoying when he was a slave. Somewhere inviting to set his own creative nature free.

“Are they here?” With his hands on his hips, Abalim looked around. “Where are they, JR15?”

The little spider-shaped robot wiggled on Abalim’s shoulder and pointed a sharp foreleg to the top of the coffee table. “They are right there, Mister Abalim, Sir.”

Asmodel peered at the top of the table.

There, next to a bowl filled with dried floral petals, stood three small bots in the same shape as JR15, but in different colors and sizes. Next to them were two other bots. One was bigger than the rest, with a solid silver body complete with twelve legs. Next to it stood a smaller spider-droid in a contrasting violet with eight black legs and two large multifaceted eyes in a rainbow of colors.

Asmodel and his brothers surrounded the table and glanced at the little AI bots. His heart raced. Could he be getting his own JR unit? He eyed them, captivated by the seamless blend of the black-and-silver bot that had a mirror-like sheen. The silver parts glistened, while the black segments absorbed the light, giving it depth and a hint of mystery. What a study of contrasts. The silver exuded a sense of high-tech sophistication, while the black hinted at something more enigmatic and stealthier.

The spybots’ forms were loosely based on Earth spiders, but were far from living creatures. They had different numbers of legs that demonstrated a precision of advanced technology. Their movements had a hypnotic fluidity that was almost hypnotic. Each leg ended in delicate, almost needle-like points, suggesting intricate manipulation capabilities or perhaps even potential defensive measures.

Asmodel became mesmerized by the silver-and-black bot's eyes, that were tiny and glowing. They were alive with intelligence that was clearly beyond ordinary machinery. They flickered with a soft luminescence as the bot scanned his surroundings. For a moment, the bot's eyes met Asmodel’s gaze, giving him an unsettling sense of awareness.

“These, my brothers, are for you.” Adapa claimed with a wave of his hand.

“Hey, now!” The larger silver bot jumped in front of the little ones. The violet-and-black one stood at his side as if joining in defending the others. “My children aren’t something to be handed out like candy, you big oaf.”

Asmodel’s eyebrows rose. Children?

“My mistake.” Adapa gave a slight bow with his hand over his heart. “Please forgive the insensitive way I started the introduction, JR10.” He looked at the violet bot. “JR11, I never intended to disrespect you. Please forgive me.”

Ah, here was the famous, or should he say infamous, JR10. Asmodel smiled and crossed his arms. If he understood the situation right, JR10 created JR11, and then she, in turn, created four little bots—Abalim’s JR15 included.

JR10 gave a good impression of a human snort. “Well, okay then.” He lifted one of his pointy front legs and jabbed it in Adapa’s direction. “And don’t you ever forget it, bub.”

“Should we introduce them?” The soft feminine voice of JR11 interjected. “Let them get to know one another so they can see if they’re compatible?”

“Come, my brothers.” Adapa waved his hand at Asmodel and his two other brothers. “Say hello to the bots.”

Abalim smiled at the small green-and-silver bot on his shoulder. “You’ll love your JR. I can’t imagine a better companion. That right, JR15?”

“Oh yes, Mister Abalim, sir!” The bot wiggled a little dance. “I love traveling with you.”

If Asmodel wasn’t mistaken, Abalim’s companion had lost some of the mechanical mannerisms it had before his brother left for Hiigar. Now it acted and talked more “human”. Maybe spending time with Abalim caused the AI bot to become less stilted and more natural.

Azazel squatted close to the table until he was eye level with the red-and-gold spider bot.

Arakiba had the small gold-and-silver one on his palm and had brought it to speak face-to-face.

That left the smallest droid on the table. The black-and-silver bot that caught his attention earlier,

To get comfortable, he sat cross-legged on the floor to speak eye-to-eye with the small thing.

“Hello,” he addressed the bot.

JR10 and JR11 backed away but kept a sharp eye on him.

No doubt they’d spring into action if he somehow hurt the little guy. “My name is Asmodel. What may I call you?”

The bot's rounded head tilted. “I am called JR13.” It scuttled closer to him. Its multifaceted eyes had a rainbow sheen as he studied him with an up-and-down glance. “You aren’t human, are you?”

“JR13!” JR11 scurried to the little bot.

It was then Asmodel noticed the similarities in their design, compact while elegant.

“That came out rude! You must filter what you say before you say it.”

Damn. He never thought he’d witness one robot berate another like that. Like a… mother. Since he had never had a mother, it wasn’t something he was familiar with.

“That’s okay, I’m not offended,” he assured JR11. Far from it. He liked clear speech. It made translating another's intention easier. Especially since he couldn’t psychically connect with the droid. “You’re right, JR13. I’m not human.” He shrugged. “I’m a mix of unknown alien and human DNA.”

“Fascinating,” the bot stated. “You resemble a Native American human, but my database doesn’t include your specific alien genome.” JR13 tilted its head the other way and trotted close to him. “I must analyze you.”

JR10 intercepted the small bot by standing in front of his “son”. “You will not!” He crossed his thin front forelegs as any father would when chastising his child.

JR13 lifted a spindly foreleg in Asmodel’s direction. “But I must examine this male on a higher level to determine if this organic creature and I are compatible. And there is only one way for me to do that properly.”

Asmodel grinned. “And what is the proper way to do that?”

“I assure you, it’s barely invasive for someone as massively built as you.” The bot turned to JR10. “Father, if you will allow me…”

Wanting to defuse the situation, Asmodel nodded to JR10. “I don’t mind. Let him do whatever he wants.” And then I’ll give you something your inquisitive circuits couldn’t dream up to mull over.

“Okay, it’s your dog-and-pony show.” JR10 scuttled back to JR11.

Hard to tell if JR10 was talking to him or to JR13.

JR13 approached until he was so close, Asmodel’s eyes crossed.

Asmodel’s right cheek stung before he could respond. He cupped the soft pain on his face. Damn bot took his blood.

“Thank you, organic man. I am now analyzing.” JR13 shuffled back. “Done.” Then, its multifaceted eyes widened. “Fascinating. You are correct in saying your human genome is a minute part of your makeup.” The bot tilted his head as if confused. “But I believe your appearance can be deceptive. Why do you choose to look like that?”

“Oh?” Asmodel straightened and stood. “Would you rather I look like this?” With minimal effort, he changed his appearance to look like a Zerin—complete with iridescent dark skin, dual-colored green irises, and three fingers on each hand. He even changed his clothes to match that of a typical member of the spaceship StarChance in a one-piece, formfitting suit.

“How about this?” Now he resembled an Akurn noble. Pale, alabaster skin, blinding-white shoulder-length hair, and flowing robes of cream and gold. He changed his eyes to a dazzling turquoise.

Not waiting for an answer, he changed once again. “I kinda like this one.”

Now he stood as a citizen of the destroyed planet of Peinuewei. Complete with dark-eggplant-color skin, curling black horns that resembled a ram’s, and skintight, thigh-length speedos in a blinding neon orange. He widened his blood-red eyes with their horizontal black pupils. Just so they weren’t missed.

“Like any of these better?” Asmodel smirked. He swore he stunned the little guy as he turned back to himself.

JR13 nodded, eager as if presented with something he couldn’t wait to get close to. “Yes, I mean, no. Your current appearance is the most tolerable. I agree to be your companion.”

Asmodel held out his hand on the table to allow the small robot to climb on. “Well, come on, then.” He grinned. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

Izzy couldn’t believe how her life had turned into a cliché. Getting kidnapped by aliens and all.

It all started when she and the other humans aboard the StarChance were about to enjoy what was called a “repose interval”.

Which was alien-speak for a day off.

And after four weeks of grueling training about the different alien cultures, having some time off was more than welcome. So, the day before the exchange, the Zerins promised all of them a fun-filled vacation in their holodeck.

Izzy was as eager as anyone for a little fun. Besides the stress of the twelve- or thirteen-hour days in extensive classes, she also spent many a late night sitting in her comfortable, small quarters devouring whatever she found on her personal tablet that the Zerins provided.

It captivated her when she found out most of the aliens she’d read about in her science-fiction-romance novels were based on reality. And just like in those novels, they were looking for human women to share their lives and help repopulate their dwindling species.

At the same time, she delved into Earth’s history and became obsessed with the Akurns, an alien race. The Akurns had played a significant role in creating most humans thousands of years ago, using them as gold-mining slaves on Earth. They crafted human genomes not only from the existing humanoids on Earth but also from a mixture of several alien species. This explained why human women could have children with many of the humanoid species in the galaxy.

Sleep had been an afterthought.

So, when the promised “repose interval” was announced, relief spread throughout the ship. Everyone looked forward to enjoying a day filled with fun and games before their lives changed forever.

It was finally here. The promised day off.

Izzy rushed to the dining hall to meet up with a large group of human women waiting to enter. Instead of being open, the massive doorway was closed, making the group mill around in the crowded hallway.

“What do you think aliens consider is a day off?”

This question came from a tall brunette with curly hair.

Izzy sighed. She’d always wanted to have more volume to her straight, baby-fine hair.

“Come on, Althea. You know how they have fun.”

This from a pleasantly plump blond with shocking exotic-gray eyes.

Althea crossed her arms and gave the blond a playful, narrow gaze. “Oh yeah, Lora? What’s that?”

“You know, instead of Mai Tais and pi?a coladas, they’ll make us sit all day in an auditorium and listen to one lecture after another.” Lora laughed. “Without the human custom of lunch or breaks.”

“That ain’t happening.” An African-American woman next to Lora waved her expressive hand. “If they think I’m going to be doing that crap, I’m outta here!”

“Like where would you go, Chloe?” Lora snorted. “Back to your room?”

Chloe nodded. “You bet your ass. I’ve got a comfy bed just callin’ me.”

Izzy agreed with that. Although she was excited about the upcoming vacation day, she wouldn’t mind getting some more sleep. That way she’d be in top form to meet her love at tomorrow’s exchange.

“I wonder what's taking so long.” A woman next to Lora placed a hand on her arm and stood on her tiptoes. Her head bobbed back and forth like a curious pigeon’s.

Izzy, just as short, didn't even bother trying—she knew she'd see nothing but backs.

“Do you see anything?” Lora grabbed the other woman’s elbow.

The woman shook her head and dropped back to the soles of her feet.

All at once, people moved and shoved Izzy until the tight group halted. She wiggled between two solid bodies of the taller women around her and muttered, trying to get their attention. “Excuse me. Please excuse me. I can’t breathe.”

Instead of anyone responding, someone elbowed her out of the group.

Izzy stumbled into the solid golden side wall. The sea of women flowed past her, leaving her just outside the doorway. She put her head down with her hands on her thighs and tried to calm her racing heart and catch her breath.

“Ah, perfect.”

When the familiar female voice spoke, Izzy jerked her head up. “Oh, Aja! You scared me.” She put her hand over her heart as her eyes widened. What in the world was the liaison wearing? She’d traded her normal one-piece cream suit for something quite different.

It reminded Izzy of a character from a steampunk novel she’d read.

Aja wore a silver chest plate adorned with intricate swirling patterns that matched the designs on her silver wrist bands. Her black leather boots reached over her knees, and the steel over the toes matched the pattern on her chest plate. The formfitting outfit shimmered whenever she moved.

“Oh, are you in a play?” Izzy asked. The large doors of the auditorium banged shut with a resounding thud, making her jump. She glanced around the now-empty room, the place eerily vacant. Everyone was gone, no one around but the two of them.

“No.” Aja’s sigh was as sincere as a politician’s promise. “I’m happy to say my days of playing the disgusting part of a human liaison are over.” She grabbed Izzy’s elbow and tugged. “Come on, human.” The word human came out heavy with derision. “Time to exchange your destiny for something a bit different.”

“What? But I… wait, the exchange isn’t until tomorrow, and the party’s over there!” Izzy pointed to the entryway behind her, now getting smaller as Aja dragged her farther down the corridor.

“Now, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about that.”

The mean smirk crossing Aja’s lips made Izzy twitch. She’d never seen an expression like that before. On anyone. Human or alien.

“Where you’re headed, parties will be nothing but a distant memory.” Aja hissed, leaning closer and tightening her hold.

Her hot breath sent a shiver down Izzy’s spine, raising goose bumps all over.

“I promise you’re going to hate every moment.”

A sudden, searing pinch on Izzy’s neck drove Aja’s last word home. “Ow!” She slapped her neck over the pain. “What was…”

Her only answer was a thick blanket of nothingness.

Izzy’s eyes fluttered open. She gasped when a woman’s face hovered just inches from hers. The bright pair of green eyes speckled with golden flecks captured her with their burning, untamed, fiery spirit.

“You okay?” The woman’s voice was mixed with a clear, confident resonance layered with the bare touch of a smooth, southern accent. Her chestnut brows furrowed, matching the smooth caramel of her skin as her full lips pursed. A voluminous cascade of curls fell over her shoulders and framed her high cheekbones, straight nose, and a firm jawline that lent a no-nonsense air.

“Who are you?” Izzy whispered and put her hand on the side of her head. “And where the heck am I?” Ugh. Her mouth and eyes were as dry as a crisp autumn leaf.

The woman moved back and looked her over.

Izzy realized she was lying flat on a hard, unforgiving surface. Doggone it, her upper back and bottom were killing her. No telling how long she’d been lying like this.

“I’m Morgan Jackson. And this place—” The woman waved an expressive hand and sat back on her heels. “—is Chez de Captivus. The glory hole in this stupid gangster planet called FiPan.”

Izzy frowned. “Huh? Chez de what?” She leaned up on her elbows and glanced around. She didn’t recognize the small, dirty-white room that was no bigger than the cramped lunchroom at the library. “I’m not on the StarChance ?”

Morgan laughed and stood. “Yeah, uh, no.” Her lips pressed into a tight line. “You, my friend, can now rightfully claim you’re a living stereotype.” She put her fists on her trim hips. “You’ve been kidnapped by aliens.”

Izzy must’ve heard her wrong. “No, I went with the Zerins willingly. I wanted to go into space.” She rolled with a grunt into a sitting position. “I’m part of an exchange program to meet an alien soulmate.”

A zing of pain shot through her temple. She rubbed it. “I think Aja was taking me… um, somewhere?”

Morgan smirked. “Aja. That’s the name of the Zerin who brought you here?”

Izzy nodded and stumbled as she tried to stand. She swung her arms as her legs wobbled like they’d forgotten what they were supposed to do. Thank goodness Morgan was there to help her get steady.

“Hang on there,” the other woman cautioned. “Give yourself a chance to come back online.”

“Thank you.” Izzy took a deep breath when her body stayed upright. She eyed Morgan. “Online? You some kind of coder?”

Morgan’s face went blank. She shrugged. “Something like that.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Izzy took another look around. “My goodness. There isn’t much here, is there?” That was an understatement. Three small cots along the side walls and a small bowl in a corner. Nothing else.

“Where did you say we were?” Her nose wrinkled when a shimmering light caught her eye. “Oh, what is that?”

She approached the open arched doorway with her fingers extended. A rainbow of colors flowed like a waterfall, except up-and-down instead of just down.

“Don’t touch that!” Morgan jumped and grabbed Izzy’s hand before it got close. “You’ll burn your fingers!”

Izzy clenched her fingers and took a step back. “What?” She peered at the reflective surface. “Is it some kind of force field?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Morgan tugged her to a small cot. “Come on. Sit down. Tell me your name and where you’re from. Then I’ll tell you what I know.”

Izzy’s face heated. Darn it! Her abuela would scold her for her lack of manners. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” She stuck her hand out. “My name is Isabella Pilar Ramirez Torres.”

Morgan accepted the clasp and shook her hand before letting go.

“Please call me Izzy. I am, er, I was, one of the head librarians at the New York Library.” Her face heated as she chuckled. Sometimes it was easy to forget she wasn’t that anymore.

Morgan nodded and sat on one of the small cots. “Come, sit, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Oh, I’d appreciate that. Thanks.” Izzy plopped onto the thin mattress next to Morgan and sat cross-legged with her hands on her lap.

The hours flew by as Morgan went into a fantastical narrative about being abducted by a female Zerin she’d never seen before who gave her to some kind of “gray alien”, like those from Earth’s UFO lore. Complete with a large, bulbous head and massive black oval eyes with spindly fingers on their hands. They put a wide leather collar around her neck that immobilized her. Then she was injected with something that made her pass out. Next thing she knew, she’d woken up here.

When Morgan mentioned the collar, Izzy grasped the similar one around her neck and gasped. “What is this? Will it hurt?” Even a hint of pain turned her into a total wuss.

“One of the sexbots told me it was called a nutesh snare.”

Izzy watched Morgan’s knuckles turn white when she gripped the black collar around her neck. “Sexbots?” What in the world…

“Oh yeah. Wait till you see one of those.” Morgan’s firm lips softened into a tight smile. “One of them should be bringing us something to eat any time now.”

On cue, Izzy’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything that morning because she was looking forward to all the goodies promised at the “day off” celebration.

A light clanking sound outside the room caught her attention.

“Oh good. Here’s one now.” Morgan put an arm in front of Izzy as if to protect her. “Stay here. Don’t move from this cot,” she admonished. “They don’t like it when you get too close. When I first got here, I tried to grab one. Bitch knocked me out by using something in this collar. I was out for hours. And believe me, the headache lasted for days.”

“Days?” Izzy put a comforting hand on Morgan’s arm. “How long have you been here?”

Morgan squinted. “Not sure. How far was the StarChance from Zerin?”

“We were just arriving.” She winced. “The Zerins planned a party for us the day before we went to the exchange. And that’s when my liaison injected me with something. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

“Hmm.” Morgan put her forefinger on her bottom lip. “They nabbed me the third week in.” She put her hand on her lap and shrugged. “I guess I’ve been here a little more than a week.”

The enharmonic sound of metallic footsteps came closer.

“Wonder which one it is today.”

Before Izzy asked what she meant, a shiny figure strode toward them holding a tray on an open palm with several square blocks resting on it.

Izzy hissed. “Oh my goodness. Is that a robot?”

“I am Delight 9D33.”

Izzy winced at the shrill tone coming out of the robot’s blinding-orange lips.

“You will stay on that bedding while I disconnect the field and place your substance on the floor,” the robot commanded.

Izzy couldn’t move even if she wanted to. The collar had her in a tight grip. With wide eyes, she watched the neon-orange robot turn off the iridescent, hazy force field, giving her a clear view of the machine.

The darn thing could have stepped out of a Barbie-doll box—complete with a slender figure, long legs, and a disproportionately small waist. The face was delicate and symmetrical, with two large, wide-set, bright-orange eyes, a small nose, and full lips. Instead of having hair, this robot was bald. Her metallic-orange head shone in the low corridor light.

The strangest thing was the four breasts tipped with pumpkin-colored nipples. It reminded Izzy of a female dog after having a litter of puppies.

Izzy’s eyes widened at the five-inch stiletto heels it had instead of feet. They were a startling neon green that matched the see-through sarong wrapped around its waist that hid little.

“Oh my stars, Will Robinson.” Izzy whispered with her hand over her heart. For the first time since leaving home, it hit her. “I’m really lost in space!”