Chosen by the Alien Above Part 5: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Serial (3 page)

Cora, you hyperactive rabbit, get back on track.

“Why did you invite me here? Was it really for an interview?”

“I wanted you here, Cora.”

“Did
you
want me here? Or did
it
want me here?”

His eyes dropped to the ground and his shook his head. “I can't be sure.”

“Great. How can I trust what you're saying to me now? How can I trust you at all, Noah?”

“I don't know that you can.”

Noah met my eyes with tears in his own. “What did I, it, do to you?”

“It tried to rape me, Noah. Your body tried to take mine.”

“I’m so sorry.” He swept me into his embrace and hugged me tight. It was a wonder his touch didn't frighten me. This was my Noah. His strength was a reassuring foundation in an otherwise unbalanced world. Noah’s comfort was needed healing, but I couldn't help but wonder how long before the alien returned.

The confusion in my chest burst like an over-filled balloon. Tears splashed down my cheeks and trickled into my mouth.

Noah lifted my chin, his breath drawing in mine. The air between us a shared necessity. With infinite tenderness, he lowered his lips to mine. All the cares and fears of the world melted away. There was only his mouth on mine, his tongue on mine.

Home.

Nothing else mattered.

A rising need clawed in my belly. It swirled between my legs and danced up and down my spine. I was quickly transforming into a warm, wet puddle in his arms. Like a sea creature with no bones or hard edges. I simply drifted on his currents, being nursed by them.

After a time, his lips parted from mine. My lungs collapsed as the broken seal between us sucked the pressure out.

“I need you, Cora,” he said.

They were the four most beautiful words I’d ever heard.

“I’m yours, Noah. I want to give you everything.”

Thunder rolled through his eyes. His desire an obvious storm.

He gripped my arms and dropped back a step.

“We can't. Not yet, Cora. As much as I want you right now, how can I be sure it's not what the alien wants?”

I wasn't sure I cared just then. This was my Noah and so what if the alien was making him like me a little more. Even as I thought the words, I knew Noah was right. I wanted him to desire me because that's what he wanted, not because some alien wanted to mate me. Wanted to seed me with… what did that thing say?

“Cosmo, when alien was controlling Noah's body, what did it say to me?”

“Wretched human, I will seed you first. In time, you will all become hosts. Humans will serve their purpose and then pass into extinction.”

The weight of the world slammed down on my chest. Did that mean what I thought it meant? Sure the words were obvious but all of them together wasn’t something you considered on a normal day.

I wasn’t having a normal day.

Noah’s expression turned grim. “The extinction of the human race? I think we have to take it at its word. The stakes are too high to do otherwise.”

“How do we beat it? How do we get it out of you?”

“I don't know. I've tried everything I could think of to find it. If I can't identify where it resides in my body or mind, I don't think there would be any way to figure out how to remove it.”

Even if we could find it, I knew all too well that didn't necessarily mean being able to destroy it. My doctors knew exactly where my problem was, but it was inoperable. Any attempts to remove it would have guaranteed my untimely death.

More untimely.

Noah lifted his gaze to mine and his pupils dilated as his mind returned from whatever dark corner it had just visited. “I may have a way.”

“What? I can help you. Tell me what to do. I'll do it.”

“You can't help with this, Ms. Gabarro.”

“You're not alone Noah. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

Sometimes you say things with the best of intentions. But intentions don't always manifest in reality, especially when others don’t share them.

“Noah, I need to inform you—“ Cosmo's odd cadence echoed in the air.

“Not now, Cos.” Noah looked at me. “I can run more tests. Take a look at the data again. There's got to be something I missed. Maybe a sub resonant pattern in the electrical activity of my brain.”

I had no idea how all that might work. I just knew I wanted my Noah, and I wanted that alien to get the fuck out of Dodge. I’d happily choke the life out of it if that didn't simultaneously mean choking the life out of the man too.

I hated problems without solutions. It's like life put them there as a big middle finger. The giant smack down that always seemed to come when things were going well. My life was reasonably on track. In my final year of my degree. Ready to tackle the world.

 
And then my giant smack down came. My problem without a solution.

“Noah, I must inform you—“

“Quiet, Cosmo!”

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought.
 

The hopelessness of it all swept over me. Like a giant wave submerging everything in its path. I kicked for the surface and pushed through the open air. I sucked in a deep breath. And found little relief.

The room wavered and then reformed. A tight stinging pain pricked the center of my forehead, between my eyebrows. I sucked in another breath and something felt wrong. An invisible vice squeezed my chest.

What was happening?

Was I reaching the limits of what a body and mind could handle? My thoughts were molasses, oozing around and taking forever to get anywhere. I didn't feel so good.

Cosmo broke the silence.

“Noah, I am required to inform you that the oxygen levels in Orbital One have dropped from their optimum level of 21% to 18.362%. They are continuing to fall.”

Noah snapped out of his reverie and looked up in no particular direction. “What's the problem?”

“I have yet to determine the source of the problem. There appears to be an unregistered subroutine operating independently in my circuits that may be responsible.”

“Unregistered?” Noah asked. “How is that possible?”

“I have no answer for that question.”

“Can you shut it down?”

“My attempts thus far have failed. It is coded in an unfamiliar language making an interface difficult.”

Noah returned his gaze to me. His brows drew together.

“Cora, are you feeling okay?”

The weakness in my knees and tightness in my chest were a clear answer.

“No, not at all.”

The lights flickered. The dim blue veins in the walls flickering to black.

“Noah, the unregistered subroutine is pushing into other systems. It has blocked me out of a number of life support functions. I am working to secure all systems.”

“Partition and secure the re-entry capsule’s systems. Now.”

“Yes, Noah. The control systems are now partitioned and secure.”

Noah scooped me up with little effort. He was a man that could handle a woman with curves. He could handle me anytime.

“I have to get you out of here,” he said. “Cos, open the door.”

The door squished open and Noah took off with me in his arms. He ran like an Olympian, like a being born to the wind. He leapt through bulkheads and darted around corners. It would’ve been exhilarating if heavy dread wasn't sinking my heart.

We made it to service corridor one and he freed a hand as we started up the ladder.

“Where are we going Noah?”

“We have to get off the station. The alien is trying to subdue us. Knock us out so that it can regain control. We can't let that happen Cora. Not with the fate of humanity on the line.”

“Noah, oxygen levels have fallen to twelve percent.”

My weight fell away as we ascended up the shaft. Unfortunately my sense of balance did too. The air felt starved, impossibly thin and unsatisfying. I took a huge breath and got no relief. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. So this was a bona fide space emergency. The kind that killed you.

I didn’t want to die. Not today. Fate had already stolen a lifetime from me. It wasn't fair to ask for more.

“We have to get you to the re-entry capsule,” Noah said. “It has independent air scrubbers and control systems.” He sucked in a breath and convulsed, for the first time showing signs of being oxygen-starved. It was a miracle he wasn't worse off considering he was doing all the carrying and climbing.

The piercing pain stabbed deeper into my forehead. I grit my teeth to keep it from dragging me under.

We went higher.

“Noah, oxygen levels have dropped to eight percent. Well below the level required to maintain consciousness.”

Noah looked into my eyes even as he continued to climb. An unspoken question lingered there. He shook it off and focused on progress. Questions would never get answers if we both died in the next breath.

We emerged into the airlock prep room in which I’d arrived. The re-entry capsule right where I left it, through the airlock, docked and waiting.
 

Noah held us steady with one hand on the corner of a pipe running along the ceiling.

“Cosmo, open the door.” Noah watched the red light above the airlock. It didn't turn green. “Do it now.”

“Noah, the alien subroutine has blocked control of the airlock’s actuation. I can’t equalize the pressures.”

“Dammit,” Noah said.

It was inhumane for us to make it this far and not be allowed to go one step further. Where was the one shred of justice that everyone deserved?
 

Noah looked into my eyes and he seemed so far away. “Don't give up on me Cora. Stay with me.”

I think I responded. I think I spoke words of assurance. That I had every intention of staying with him forever. If the words did come out, I couldn’t remember exactly how.

Everything was fading fast.

Noah ripped the single spare suit off the wall and stabilized me in the air. Floating and fading. He worked the legs over mine, the boots over mine, the torso down mine, my arms threaded through. He did these things somewhere else. At a distance.

Something told me I should care more, but I didn’t. How did what he was doing matter to me? Here where I was. So far away.

The rim of a helmet lowered over my face, the visor still up. I drifted toward the ceiling, vaguely interested to understand the situation.

He pushed off the ceiling, spun in mid-air, and landed on his feet. His grace hinted at no imminent disaster, to us or humanity. He removed an access panel next to the airlock entrance. He reached in and yanked out a lever. He locked it between clasped hands and muscled it over ninety degrees.

“Manual override engaged,” Cosmo said.

Noah jerked up the long steel lever that ensured the door sealed properly. It clanked into the open position.

But the door didn’t budge.

Somehow, I didn’t much care.

Noah heaved back on the handle and still it stayed shut. He pushed off and drifted to the far wall. He grabbed an enormous crowbar off the wall, did a
tuckrollspinkick
and and landed at the stubborn door.
 
He wedged the crowbar into the crack running along the side, braced his feet on the frame, and strained backward on the long end of the bar.
 

His back rippled and bulged as he struggled to crack it open. His biceps peaked like quaking mountains.

It was no use. The door didn't budge.

He took a shuddering breath and threw himself backward. The muscles in his back spread like the wings of a manta ray, like the hood of a King Cobra. The peaks and valleys of his skin etched in sharp contrast. Like a statue on a sunny day. The movement kept him real. He shook with exertion.

The door gave with a ear-shattering screech.

“Oxygen levels at five percent.”

I knew that voice. It was an old friend, or maybe a new one. One of those friends that was a little too helpful. Like you appreciated their desire to help you out, but it always went a little too far. Always went to that annoying place. You couldn’t fault a friend for enthusiasm, as much as you might want to.

Noah pulled the door open and pushed off the wall and flew to me like an angel. My guardian angel. He gathered me up and glided through the open doorway. He held me close and pulled the door shut.

“Cosmo, activate the capsule’s pressurization sequence.”

“Yes, Noah.”

I noticed something for the first time. His skin had a hint of purple. A ruddier red.

I took a deep breath, and it was like breathing flames. My lungs burned. I stared into his beautiful face and decided I could die. If I had to die in this moment with this angel above me.

I could do it.

There were worse ways to go.

A hiss swooshed through the room.

“Come on, come on.”

It sounded like Noah’s voice. I was pretty sure it was his voice. I wasn't totally sure of anything.

The airlock whistled as the chamber equalized with the pressure inside the capsule.

“Come on!”

The world lingered at the end of a long, dark tunnel. The blackness promised peace from the struggling body. My chest convulsed as it struggled for air. The searing agony threatened to consume me.

Then something changed.

The collapsing tunnel paused, then slowly opened wider. Revealing more of the world. A ragged, burning breath felt somehow smoother.

“Stay with me, Cora. Please stay with me. I can't lose you.”

Noah hugged me to his chest. A tear welled in his eye. The surface tension broke and it warbled in the air as it floated away.

I sucked in another breath and remembered where we were, remembered how I felt about the man embracing me. Another few breaths and the world was somewhat solid again. Or I was, like I wasn't about to leave at any second.

Any week maybe, but not in the next second.

“Thank God,” Noah said. He squeezed me tight with a comforting pressure. I fit perfectly in his arms. Like we were made for each other.

“Cosmo, open the hatch and prepare the vehicle for launch. When when ready.”
 

Bolts popped and the door to the capsule swung open.