Gyft (Rescued by the Alien)

Chapter Fifteen

GYFT:

“I THINK I got it.”

Minniel understands exactly what I mean when he hears the tone in my voice. His gaze sharpens and he motions for me to enter the command center where we can speak privately.

“The friend—”

“Yvette,” he says, and I’m a little puzzled that he’s got the strange-sounding name pronounced perfectly, as if he’s said it a million times before.

“Did you see all the gold jewelry she wore?”

He nods, puzzled. “Pull up the footage of when we woke her from the shuttle.”

I punch in my personal code, and a hologram image of a shuttle appears, identical to the one that brought Olivia. But instead of Yvette emerging, the way Olivia had, Minniel has to open the shuttle door. Inside, Yvette is laying prone on a flat table, still unconscious from the journey. While she’s not bedecked in the black bridal gown that Olivia wore, her sheath is much more simplistic in design. And while her face isn’t covered in the atrocious black makeup, she wears the exact jewelry Olivia has.

Exactly.

The medallion as large as the palm of my hand.

The chains around her neck.

The bracelets .

The dangling earrings.

The thin piece that snakes around her forehead.

The arm bands that enclose her upper arms.

The pieces that wrap around her wrists.

Though I can’t see her legs, I have no doubt the same items that Olivia had on her thighs and ankles are duplicated on Yvette.

“What are you looking for?” Minniel asks.

“Olivia wore the exact same thing. Not similar jewelry. The exact. Same. Pieces. That’s the key. The component we’re missing. The weight of the gold offsets the alloy components of the ship. Something about the gold filters the object as a whole when it passes through the black hole, keeping it intact.”

Minniel knits his brow as he punches the information through our computer. There’s terse silence for a moment... and then he releases a breath.

“That’s it.”

A continuous code of computer jargon scrolling down in front of us—details of components and gases created within the shuttle, the antigravity factor of the hole versus that of regular space, factors and multiplications transmuting to our language from the code.

“You’re a genius,” he breathes. “This is the secret. Gold is the missing component in the alloy composition for the shuttle, so by having the inhabitant wear it, it adds the safety factor for traveling through holes without appearing obvious.”

We plug more information into the mainframe interface, and the computer spits out ideas, examples, and conclusions rapidly.

“Well, they’re not as dumb as they look.” I chuckle softly.

“I wonder if Earth has an interface or if they had to actually test out the shuttle in real time?” Minniel murmurs.

“Tragic waste of life if so.” I shudder to think of how lucky this race was to discover, probably by accident, the secret to zipping through wormholes .

“Good job in discovering how it works. I knew you were the man for the job. I knew you could pull off this marriage.”

Something about those words make me feel bad. I need to tell him that I’ve fallen in love with my bride. With Olivia. But I don’t get the chance. There’s a throat clearing that makes me look up.

“ Saquon , Commander.” A messenger stands at the door, along with Bride and Ivitt... Yvette.

I nod at the messenger, barely acknowledging him because Olivia is staring at me... white-faced.

A strange paralysis grips my limbs, my muscles, but I utter one word. “Bride?”

“What are you and Minniel talking about?” she asks, fury lacing her words.

Horror fills the pit of my belly. We were talking about their shuttle.

“It’s not what it seems—”

“It seems like you married me to get a hold of our shuttle’s technology.”

“Well, yes, that was the original plan—

“How dare you?”

“It’s not like that now, Olivia—”

“Don’t you Olivia me! We look dumb, don’t we?”

Tears are streaming down her face and I feel helpless. There’s a terrible sunken feeling in the pit of my belly. “That’s why you were worried about my white hair. Why you worried that my father would notice. Not that you worried about me, but you worried about what he would think of you.”

“Bride—”

Minniel clears his throat. “Gyft?”

The messenger has moved to him and Minniel has unfolded the scroll.

“What? ”

The messenger snaps to attention with a royal decree. “The divorce you requested has been finalized. As of this moment, You are hereby single.”