Page 15 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)

- Mareliux -

“Then we’re now not betrothed,” I declare. “Will you send a dispatch to the Emperor, Bellatriz? I think he should know. Don’t tell him the ‘not’ part. It must look genuine.”

“ Shall I tell him,” the sword AI asks, “ that your fiancee only agreed to marry you after you threatened to invade her homeworld and enslave everyone there? Or that you have now committed to sending a squadron to protect a planet that’s not even a part of the Empire and which has no particular value? ”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snort. “You know we hate slavery and fight it wherever we find it. Earth is not a planet we want, now that we’re battling for the very survival of the Empire.

As for the gunships, it can be a reward for work well done.

We’ll rotate the squadron every ten days.

Watching over Earth should be a very relaxed assignment for deserving crews.

Now, Umbra, I think it’s time for those refreshments I keep promising.

Send a serving robot to the officer’s mess, Bellatriz. ”

Umbra is staring at the gunships, and I stare at Umbra. In that jumpsuit, her shape is almost outrageously female. I’ve never seen a Khavgren woman fill out a garment in quite that way.

Heat goes to my middle, increasing the hardness that was already there. I know that she looks even more alluring without that jumpsuit, too. Vindictive gods, I can still smell her juices.

I clear my voice. “If you’ll follow me, my betrothed.”

Umbra shoots me a fiery glance, but she comes along. “Maybe we should limit those terms to when we’re acting like a couple.”

“Ah, but we can’t always know who’s watching. We should keep the charade going until we’re sure we’re behind locked doors. But I agree. While safely aboard the Gladiux , we won’t need to act like we’re in love.”

We make our way through the ship towards the officer’s mess.

“I should tell you,” I mention while we walk, “that when we knew you were not in the cabin, we locked every door and made sure any elevator you entered would only take you to the hangar, whatever your plan was. I say this only to keep you from wandering around the ship alone. There are dangerous places here. If you want a tour, I will ask Caret’ax to give you one. ”

“You won’t show me the ship yourself?” Umbra asks.

I smile to myself. As a pilot and warrior, she is interested in how the ship works.

And she must suspect that Caret’ax, who looks like a caveman, won’t be the best guide to those things.

“Oh, I would love to. But I’ve been absent from my forces for too long.

I will have to spend a lot of time in conferences with my generals in the days ahead. ”

“Conquering planets,” Umbra says flatly. “Selling slaves.”

“Defending ourselves against ruthless enemies,” I correct her. “We don’t actually do much slave trading. Only when we must,” I add, not wanting to weaken the deal she just agreed to.

We get to the officer’s mess and sit down at the captain’s table. Two serving robots are waiting for us, and they have already set the table nicely with the best foods on the ship, as well as a fine selection of drinks.

I take my place, half-lying on the soft cushions. “Do sit down, Umbra. Let’s see how different our eating habits are. It may be important for when we’re acting married.”

She touches the cushions at her spot. “You want me to lie down?”

“It’s common practice for a meal as nice as this,” I tell her. “Everyone will expect you to take this position. Almost all meals you’ll have on Grefve and on Khav will be taken like this. At other times, we may just sit or even stand. If the meal is small.”

“Uh-huh.” Umbra sits down on the bench and rearranges the cushions, which are really too big for her to get comfortable on. She can’t really lie down even halfway.

“That’s all right,” I tell her as I fill her glass with pure water.

“We will get more suitable furniture for the wedding reception. This is water. These are juices of various sweetness. These are alcoholic drinks. These steaming ones are herbal infusions.” For fun I use Syntrix to push the glass closer to her.

She frowns. “Is the table slippery?”

“No, it should be normal duramite,” I tell her as I pull the glass back to where it was.

“That glass is moving,” she says. “Are you doing it?”

“You try,” I tell her, putting a slice of grilled krualbi into my mouth. “Without using your hands.”

She gives me a searching look. “How?”

“If you can’t use your hands, you must use your mind.”

“You’re moving that glass with your mind?”

"Something like that," I reply, chewing thoughtfully. "It's called Syntrix. Try reaching out with your… awareness, I suppose. Imagine gently nudging the glass."

Umbra stares intently at the glass, her brow furrowed in concentration. A moment passes, then another. Nothing happens.

"I don't feel anything," she says, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"It takes practice," I assure her. "Think of it like flexing a muscle you didn't know you had. Subtle at first."

She closes her eyes, her lips pressed together. Her breathing becomes shallow. Suddenly, the glass wobbles. A small smile flickers across her face.

"I think… I think I felt something," she says, her eyes still closed.

"Good. Now try to guide it." There is of course a chance that her species can neither sense nor use the Syntrix. That would be unfortunate. But I want to check.

Her eyes snap open, focused with intense concentration on the glass. It begins to slide slowly across the table, a jerky, uneven movement that sets the water inside sloshing. Her smile widens.

"I'm doing it!" she exclaims.

Then, her focus seems to waver. Her eyes widen in surprise, and the gentle slide turns into a sudden, uncontrolled surge of movement.

The glass shoots across the table with alarming speed, flies off the table, and hits the wall with a sharp crack .

Water splashes onto the polished floor, and clear shards lie scattered.

Umbra stares at the broken glass, her mouth agape. "What… what happened?"

I’m so astonished I sit up. “That’s a very good question, Umbra. I’ve never seen such power in a new Syntrix user! But of course all new Syntrix users I’ve seen were newborns.”

“ That’s wild,” Bellatriz says from her scabbard. “ We may be starting to understand why someone put a veil around her planet, if this is the Syntrix potential they have there.”

One of the serving robots zooms over and removes the glass in the blink of an eye.

I refill my own glass and put it in front of Umbra. “Try again. This time, see if you can control it. It’s fine if it breaks.”

This time, I focus more.

Ah yes. I can feel her Syntrix thread, her awareness as it reaches out and pushes at the glass. It’s raw, though. It’s spilling all over the place, making the other glasses tremble, as well as the various knives and serving spoons on the table.

“Concentrate only on the glass,” I instruct. “Ignore everything else.”

The glass shakes, spilling water and rattling against the table. Then it slides across the surface, first slow, then fast, still wobbling.

“Reduce the power,” I say softly to not break her concentration. “Keep the focus, but lessen the intensity— oh.”

The glass flies off the table and hits the wall, like the other one. Again the robot is there and cleans.

“What is this?” Umbra asks. “What’s happening? I could never do that before.”

“It’s called Syntrix,” I tell her. “It’s everywhere. Except on Earth. Apparently someone put a barrier around your planet to stop the Syntrix from reaching your planet. With Syntrix, you can do those things.”

She stares at me. “You mean that magic exists everywhere except on Earth?”

I nod. “It’s curious, isn't it? Someone really feared what your people would do with the Syntrix. Bellatriz, I think it’s time for one of your interminate lectures.”

“Well, I think it’s time for one of my short, remarkably entertaining and well-phrased explanations of basic things in nature,” the sword sniffs.

“ Ignore the giant tentacle monster, Umbra. Here’s what you need to know.

The Syntrix is a fundamental, non-electromagnetic energy field that permeates all matter and space within this universe.

Think of it as the underlying architecture of reality, an invisible fabric that connects everything.

It is not an active power source in itself, but rather a medium through which certain beings can manipulate reality on a quantum level.

These beings are nearly always sentient.

Most sentient beings can use the Syntrix, while some need a lot of practice to make it work for them.

There, I’m done. Was that interminable, Prince? ”

I shrug, still chewing. “Sounded fine to me.”

“Why did someone remove the Syntrix from Earth?” Umbra asks.

“ I don’t know,” the AI says cheerfully. “ It’s not easy to do. There has to be a good reason. But it’s interesting how far your society has advanced without the use of the Syntrix.”

“Almost to the point of real space travel.” I agree. “Now, eat your meal. It should be nutritious and not toxic for you. Try everything you like the looks of and leave anything you don’t like. Don’t force it.”

Umbra gingerly starts eating, less suspicious than before.

While we eat I explain more about the Syntrix and how to use it.

“It should be practiced every day, if you want it to work right,” I finish.

“Most people don’t, and they lose the ability to control it.

And there is a side to Syntrix that can be destructive.

If you use it for its power only, to attack those who are weaker, to gain power for yourself, or to destroy, it could take over and make you its servant.

We call it the Forbidden Arts, and those who use it are shunned. But you don’t have to worry about it.”

“All right,” Umbra says. “It’s nice to know. Meanwhile, is Caret’ax your slave?”

I can’t help laughing at her surprising question. “Caret’ax? A slave? Umbra, I would pay to see someone try to enslave him. That would end badly for any nearby planet, I think. No, he’s not a slave. I pay him a very substantial salary.”

“But you use slaves? You said so.”

I look away. “The Empire uses… the appropriate number of slaves.”

“What number is that?” she persists.

She must suspect that I was bluffing.

“I can’t even tell you. There’s not many, if that’s what you mean.”

“I just think it’s weird for a slave-owning Empire to use robots to serve food, and not slaves. Especially for a prince. Are you Mareliux’s slave, Bellatriz?”

“ No,” the sword snorts. “ I’m a legendary sword, passed down in the royal lines of Khav for many centuries. I am now serving Prince Mareliux from my own free will and enjoying it a great deal. But perhaps you think of Vera as your slave?”

“Vera? I don’t look at her like one,” I tell them. “If she didn’t want to be on my wrist, I wouldn’t keep her there. How many slaves do you own, Mareliux?”

I think fast, but I can’t see how to get out of this. “Well, me… me personally… none.” I sigh. “All right, Umbra. You got me. We don’t actually use slaves. We abhor the practice. The Empire fights slavery wherever we come across it.”

“So your threat was empty? About selling everyone on Earth as slaves.”

I manage to not writhe in my seat. “That part was perhaps not completely— yes, Caret’ax?”

The bodyguard enters the mess, saving me from further embarrassment.

“Sir, there are many messages from your armies. There’s been a major Vyrpy attack on Cur. It looks like they were so many that the Imperial forces had to retreat.”

“Cur is lost?” I ask, struggling to maintain composure. “But that planet is only two solar systems from Khav itself! How could they get so close?”

“Military Intelligence is blaming weakness of the Syntrix,” Caret’ax says. “They can’t do their work well when they have no guiding strength.”

“The Emperor must give that strength!” I seethe as I get to my feet. “It’s irresponsible for him to stay on the throne when he can’t even provide minimal guidance and force to defend our Empire!”

“Shall we set course for Cur, sir?” the caveman asks, keeping his voice neutral.

I think about it. “We must get this taken care of. Cur is lost, and we will reconquer it when we have the strength. We’ll speed up and get to Grefve before the whole Empire collapses.

When I’m fake married, perhaps I can persuade the Emperor to step down before there’s no Empire left for him to rule.

Now, please excuse me, Umbra. I have to contact my generals.

Caret’ax, give her a tour of the ship whenever she wants it. ”

I get up and hurry to the conference room. All the highest officers of the Imperial Army are ready and waiting, their holographic images shimmering from light years away.

“Greetings, Imperial generals, legates, and tribunes,” I begin. “I understand there’s bad news…”