Page 15 of Chieftain (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #1)
Emmy
"I see Earth curse words haven't changed much in sixty years,” Dixa said with a laugh.
“I--I’m sorry," I mumbled, flustered by my sudden inability to communicate.
"It's just. You're Marilyn Monroe, aren't you?” Now that the realization hit me, I saw the face of the starlet despite the few changes in her appearance.
Her hair was longer, and the haunted look Marilyn Monroe's eyes always held was gone, replaced with glowing happiness.
Slim shoulders rolled upward, held for a moment, then dropped as she sighed. “I haven't heard that name in forever. I go by Dixa now.”
“But you….” I swallowed hard, not sure how to proceed. Surely, she knew by now her fate on Earth. “On Earth, you died from a drug overdose.”
“I heard,” Dixa huffed an aggravated snort. "You would think Johnny and Bobby would give me a more interesting death after all we meant to each other.”
My hand didn't reach my lips in time to stifle the gasp. “Johnny and Bobby? Kennedy?" I asked from behind, the fingers resting on my lips.
Dixa shrugged, her irritation palpable. Still, she served me a cup of tea with finesse. I took a sip, the hints of mint and sugar in the liquid, something I thought lost forever. Dixa grinned at my contented sigh.
"You know, many people think the Kennedys murdered you because you knew too much." I wondered how much she knew of the events surrounding her supposed death.
“Knew too much what? That Johnny snored?” She quipped with a roll of her eyes.
“You did have an affair with the president.” My jaw dropped with amused surprise at her ready admission.
“Oh, honey, everybody did." The brown eyes danced with mischief as she sipped her tea.
We sat silently for a few minutes, sipping tea and nibbling on the strange flat cookies that, while delicious, were more savory than sweet.
“What happened to you? How did you get… here?" Maybe it was none of my business. What was the etiquette for asking another human in space how she or he was abducted? Was it allowed? Or was there some Alliance rule that forbid humans from talking about it?
Dixa blew breath through her pursed lips as she leaned back against the cushions. “By now, you've figured out the Roswell, New Mexico crash was the real deal.”
“Apparently." Until this moment, I'd given little consideration to the fact that all the conspiracies about aliens and the government were true. My apologies to all the UFO believers I’d once considered lunatics.
“After the New Mexico crash, our government started trying to make contact with alien species.
They launched a bunch of rockets full of books and recordings showing Earth's culture and language. I found out later that as some kind of joke—Johnny always did have a warped sense of humor— Some Like it Hot was one of the movies.” The smile Dixa gave me was downright prideful.
“A wealthy Stranac had me snatched because he saw the movie—it was one of my better roles.
Lord Asad wasn't a bad guy. He didn't want to breed me or make me a slave.
He just thought I was pretty and wanted me like one wants a piece of art. "
“Siemba?” The lion-man definitely held affection for her.
"No," Dixa shook her head forcefully. "Siemba is not the Stranac that took me.”
“You’re not still owned by him, are you?”
Dixa's arched brow raised as she smiled. "No, I earned my freedom from my owner, all thanks to a little sugar.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sugar. You may not know this, but I always had a bit of a sweet tooth.” Dixa’s cheeks flushed pink.
"I had a roll of butterscotch lifesavers in my pocket when the aliens took me.
Since I was kidnapped for a specific owner, I avoided processing like most humans, so I got to keep my hands on my candy.
I was lounging around my owner's villa, trying not to die of boredom, when I started experimenting with the alien version of alcohol.
" Her lovely face twisted into a grimace.
"The stuff tastes like horse piss and has as much effect on humans as a glass of milk.
But since it was the only thing to drink at the villa.
.. I tried to help the taste by adding a lifesaver.
It didn't help the taste, but it did help me figure out that sugar has an incredibly intoxicating effect on aliens.”
My mouth fell open just as I went to take a sip of tea. "Seriously?"
"Makes them drunk as skunks," Dixa said with a conspiratorial giggle.
"As you might have noticed, aliens don't have much of a sweet tooth. They use this sweetener from some bee-like creatures in the Gilese system. My owner was very business savvy, so while other aliens were stealing humans, he started stealing sugar. At the same time, I concocted the alien version of a daiquiri.” She raised her hands, waving about. “The result is Dixa’s—we have a bar on every space station and port city in six galaxies.”
While Orzon's culinary skills were impressive, I noticed a deplorable lack of sweets on the ship. Even the dishes that were supposed to be sweet leaned more toward spicy sweetness than pure sugary treats.
Dixa’s story gave me a modicum of hope. Not only did she have her freedom, but she also had success. I wondered if there was a need somewhere for a former district attorney. I made a mental note to talk to Khaion about the Alliance justice system.
"If you're not a slave anymore? Don't other aliens try and snatch you." The memory of how Khaion held tight to my hand as we walked through the space station caused my heart to flutter.
“No one would dare.” Dixa’s voice was soft. “I am Siemba’s mate.”
“The lion-man?”
“Siemba is Lord Asad's son." Her slender fingers played at a loose thread on the cushion. "He was away fighting in the Romvesian civil war when Lord Asad kidnapped me. Siemba was wounded near the war's end and came home to recuperate. As they say, the rest is history.”
“You’ve been through the machine… the one that keeps us young.” It was a fair guess; she didn’t look a day over thirty. "Believe it or not, I’m sixty and looked every day of it when I was grabbed.”
Dixa’s eyes swept over me, and she nodded appreciatively.
"I believe it. Could you imagine having a machine like that on Earth?
Joan Crawford would have lost her mind." Her gaze narrowed slightly.
"To answer your real question… yes, the machine modifies your reproductive system.
Siemba and I have six children, two girls and four boys. They are in school on Stranac."
I blushed, thoughts of how my body might be changed, not so much worrisome as curious. Did it mean I was compatible with Khaion?
Get a grip, Emmy.
I focused on Dixa; the talk of her family brought a glow to her face. From all reports, Marilyn Monroe strived for contentment but never reached it... until now. “You seem happy.”
“I am. Far happier than I ever was on Earth.” Dixa went about refilling our teacups, lips curled into a smile.
"Siemba and I have a wonderful life together, and I've adjusted to space rather well.
" She shrugged. "Like everybody that gets abducted, I spent a lot of time wanting to return to Earth.
The truth is being a celebrity is a horrible business.
Trying to always be Marilyn Monroe took its toll.
" She gave a huff, voice practically dripping with derision.
"I'm not surprised people believed I overdosed so easily. "
“I wasn't alive back then," I blushed under Dixa's smirk. "But I read about what happened to you. There was never a hint you were abducted. What did the Kennedys think happened to you that they covered it up by saying you died? Some rumors say it was because they were afraid of the mafia?"
Dixa laughed loudly, her hand slapping my knee.
"Honey, the Kennedys are the mafia, or close enough. They knew aliens took me.” She frowned.
"Sometimes I wonder if Bobby didn’t set it up, the little weasel.
" She handed me another cookie, no doubt assuming my open mouth was due to hunger and not shock.
"The government always makes sure there's some kind of explanation anytime someone well known is taken.”
“You're telling me our government knows about aliens kidnapping people, and they're not doing anything about it?” My tone was louder than I intended.
“What can they do?” One arched brow cocked higher. “As you’ve seen, Earth technology is practically non-existent compared to what the aliens have.”
I nodded at the truth of her statement.
"What happened to you? How were you snatched?
The space version of asking where you hail from .
“My friends and I belong to something called the Outlander book club. We were on an overnight camping trip on the Appalachian trail when a bright light appeared in the sky. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a spaceship sporting my twenty-year-old ass again, and my friends shipped out to God knows where.”
"Do you have a family?"
“Two sons… they’re grown with their own lives, but they’ll look for me." My heart twisted, and I took a sip of tea to swallow back the lump growing in the base of my throat.
“They’ll probably make it look like you got eaten by a bear or something—or just got lost.”
“Maybe.” Like my sons—my friends and co-workers at the District Attorney's office would look for an explanation. A career criminal rather than a hungry animal would most likely be blamed. Oddly the idea that the disappearance of the Outlander book club would be pinned on someone who abused the system with a murder or assault history didn’t bother me much.
What bothered me more was my government's copiability in the abductions.
They might not personally hand humans over to the aliens, but to keep everyone in the dark was unforgivable.