Maggie's Story (Intergalactic Matchmaking Services) (7 page)

Claire rose from her chair and went to the apartment door. She quickly opened it and waved her arm to someone standing outside the apartment. At this gesture, Maggie rose from the couch. Claire stepped back from the doorway, and in stepped two other people, dressed in black pants and wearing short cloaks. They had hoods over their heads, and their arms were tucked into their cloaks.

Indicating the person in the dark blue cloak, Claire said, “Maggie Cline, I would like to introduce you to Ambassador Pacer of the Rion clan. He is here to meet you and answer any questions you may have that I’ve not covered. The Ambassador speaks English, so that will make things much easier for you.”

Maggie’s eyes widened as she took in the stranger. He had pushed his hood back to reveal a face similar to a human’s but it was also different. He had no hair that she could see, and wore a black tattoo that wrapped around the sides and to the top of his head. The ambassador’s skin was a combination of light orange and pale green. It was hard to tell where each color left off; they blended seamlessly into each other in a slightly mottled effect. His eyes seemed to be a solid black and were a little larger than a human’s eyes. He held his hand out to shake hers. It was automatic to shake his hand. As she did, she noticed he had large hands. His handshake was surprisingly gentle.
Well, I was right…there are no little green men; but there are definitely big green men
, she thought to herself.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Cline. Claire has told me a lot about you. May I introduce the
Starrays’
Security Chief, Daxon of the Flame clan?” He indicated the individual standing directly behind him. As he did, this person also removed his hood.

Maggie gasped as she took in this new person. She found him to be quite beautiful with his light blue and light green mottled skin. Again, the colors joined seamlessly, fading from one to the other.  He, too, wore a black tattoo wrapped around his head. The markings looked like stylized flames. His eyes were a dark blue, allowing Maggie to notice that his pupils were vertical, like a cat’s. The effect was quite startling. The Security Chief was almost a foot taller than Maggie at about six and a half feet in height. His nose was a bit broad and somewhat flat. She could see his nostrils flaring as he breathed. He didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in her direction. Maggie felt like she had been zapped with an electrical charge; she was speechless.

“
Mrawr
,” came Mamzell’s voice from the bedroom doorway.

“Aha, this must be the pet Claire told us about, is it not?” asked the ambassador. He spoke so formally it reminded Maggie of older British movies she sometimes watched.

“Yes, this is my cat, Mamzell. She doesn’t normally come out around guests.”

At this time Mamzell sauntered out of the hallway and went directly to the security chief, wrapping herself around his ankles, rubbing along his pants legs. As he picked up his foot, Maggie called out, “Don’t kick her! She is only checking you out. She doesn’t normally go up to strangers, so I’m surprised.”

“I wasn’t going to kick her, I was just going to try to get her off of me. She is leaving her hair on my clothing,” said Daxon. His gravelly voice brought to mind Sean Connery; deep, rich, and a bit of a brogue.

“Well, cats shed a little. It won’t hurt you or your uniform. Come here, Mamzell, let’s put you back in the bedroom for now.”

“
Mrawr
,” answered the cat. She really didn’t want to leave Daxon’s legs, though. Maggie had to resort to scooping her up, walking her into the bedroom and placing her in the middle of the bed. Maggie left her a couple of cat treats as a bribe.

“You stay in here; I’ll let you out once our company has left,” Maggie said, as she closed the bedroom door.

The two Nordonians looked at each other, each raising an eyebrow in query. “I didn’t realize cats were sentient beings, Claire. Ms. Cline talks to her pet as though it understands her. Do all humans talk to their pets like this? And do the pets understand them in return?” asked Ambassador Pacer.

Maggie had walked back into the room during this question and laughed out loud. “I talk to my cat all the time. And while we don’t understand each other like you and I would understand each other when we talk, I do know what she wants usually when we ‘
talk’
. Think of it more like a mother being able to understand the different cries of a child.”

“Ah, that makes sense then. I was afraid my research had been severely lacking. Ms. O’Donnell said you would not consider relocating without your pet, so we had to do some research on what exactly humans considered pets and how they dealt with them.”

Just like that Maggie was reminded she was talking to aliens. Real life aliens. How could she forget why these two exotic-looking males were in her home?

“You don’t need to worry about that, Ambassador, I have no intention of leaving Earth to live with aliens. I think this has been one big mistake. I’m not interested in being used as a breeding machine for the U.S. government or for aliens.”

This seemed to surprise both gentlemen for they each raised a hairless eyebrow ridge. It was a very human-like gesture. “Ms. Cline, I assure you, we are not looking for human females strictly for
breeding
purposes. While it would be great if the pairings between humans and Nordonians were to prove fruitful, we also value the emotional side of relationships.” The ambassador looked to Claire at this point.

“I told Maggie she was focusing too much on the reproductive side of the equation,” said Claire with a frown. “Perhaps if we all sat down we could continue this conversation more comfortably.”

“Fine,” Maggie replied shortly. She wasn’t really sure what else to say. She didn’t want to be rude and she was curious about what the aliens truly wanted from her. It was just hard to get past the fact they were wanting to mate with humans for the continuation of their race.

The security chief stayed in the entryway, his hands crossed behind his back, as the ambassador draped his own cloak over the end of the couch and sat.

“We Nordonians are used to forming relationships and family groups much like you humans do, Maggie. We have been missing that these last thirty years since the females of our race were exterminated in warfare. Tests have shown that humans are quite compatible with us not only for the continuation of our race, but for emotional balance, too. A society of only males will not last long. We need the balance of having a society with males and females. Otherwise, we would risk not only extinction, but risk falling into a warlike life. We have no desire to be constantly at war with other races until the last of us has died off. While no children have been born to date since one of us first paired with a human female, we still have hope that it will happen someday. It has only been about eighteen months that we have tried this program called the Intergalactic Matchmaking Services. There have only been six women so far that have agreed to leave Earth behind after meeting a suitable mate among our men.”

“What happens to the women who decide
not
to go with you,” asked Maggie. She wasn’t sure she was going to like the answer, but she had to ask the question.

“A fair question, Maggie. After they come to our starship, whichever one is in orbit above Earth at the time, they are given a chance to meet the Nordonian males that are interested in participating in the program. Not all of the women find someone they are either attracted to or compatible with. A couple have found a likely partner, but for reasons of their own they decide they cannot leave Earth. The women then have their memories wiped of all encounters with our species and of the matchmaking program. They are not harmed in any way. The memories are removed and they wake up back on Earth in their towns with no idea what they were doing for the previous couple of weeks.”

“Is that what you will do to me if I don’t leave with you tonight?” squeaked Maggie. Her eyes were huge as she imagined herself waking up with a huge gap in her memory.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your tests results were quite favorable.”

Maggie looked over to the security chief. Again she felt that zing along her skin. He just stood there quietly, not saying a word. Maggie could tell he was listening to the conversation, however, since he never seemed to take his dark blue eyes from her. She was torn. She had had such hopes for the matchmaker finding a match for her, and while she had been willing to relocate, she wasn’t sure she wanted to become a space adventurer! It was one thing to move to another country; but to move to another planet was totally crazy. Right?

“May I think about it?” Maggie asked. She wasn’t used to jumping into decisions, unless you count contacting the Intergalactic Matchmaking Services, of course. That wasn’t thought out for long at all and look where that had landed her. “Could you give me at least forty-eight hours to think it over? It’s such a huge decision.” Right now she just wanted to be alone. It wasn’t her style to be rude, but some peace and quiet to think about everything she had learned was very appealing.

“Of course, Maggie. It is perfectly understandable. Do you promise not to discuss what you have learned with anyone?” asked the ambassador. “If you can promise us that, then I would be happy to give you the time you have asked for.”

“Who would I tell? Who would believe this?” she exclaimed in return. “They would have me locked into a mental ward.”

“Good point, I suppose. Thank you for your time, Ms. Cline. We look forward to hearing your decision in a couple of days. Please call Ms. O’Donnell as soon as you have made a decision.”

As her guests said their farewells and exited the apartment, Maggie’s mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts. Could she really go through with this? Could she find the companionship she desired among a different race of beings? She locked the apartment door and walked to the bedroom to let Mamzell out. The cat never liked being confined in a room. Then again, Maggie could sympathize with her cat right now; she felt confined to her apartment thanks to the Snake gang members camped out on the corner of her block. But aliens? And a space ship?

Maggie decided to spend the next hour or so before bedtime preparing her witch costume for school. Many of the teachers dressed up for Halloween; the young students found it entertaining and sometimes it helped them hold the attention of the students who were dreaming of bags of sweets to be gathered that evening.

CHAPTER 12

Thursday proved to be hectic at school. The students only wanted to talk about going out at night to Trick-or-Treat. Most teachers were happy to see the end of the day. Maggie looked forward to getting home and removing the green makeup and fake warts she had adorned her face with this morning. The kids at least thought her costume was a success. A couple of the charmers had called her Mrs. Witch all day.

Since her apartment was downtown and above a store, Maggie had asked the neighbors if they had kids come around on Halloween. They each told her no, since access was from a dark alley. Many of the store owners, however, stayed open a little later on Halloween for
Downtown Trick-or-Treats
, an annual event put on by the local businesses. Maggie couldn’t wait to see how Halloween differed this year from the previous freezing, and sometimes snowy, Halloween holidays in Minnesota. Dressing up in skimpy or thin costumes just didn’t seem worth it if the temperature was in the forties. She couldn’t recall any Hollywood witch wearing long johns!

Maggie didn’t see anyone loitering on the corner of her block or in the alleyway behind her apartment.
Maybe the gang has given up their vigil
, she thought. She was grateful for whatever reason they chose to not be there. Her focus was solely on getting inside and getting her Halloween makeup washed off; she could feel her face starting to itch. As she dashed up the stairs to the landing at the door, she sorted through the keys on her key ring for the right key to her apartment. Maggie yanked open the exterior door and stepped into the gloomy corridor leading to her home.

Suddenly Maggie felt strong hands grab her upper arms and pin them to her side. Her purse and messenger bag went flying across the floor as they were knocked out of her hands. The attacker that had her arms in his tight grip shoved her face-first into the wall just inside entryway door, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Thankfully she had turned her face aside to look over her shoulder, or her nose would have been broken, hitting the wall. As it was, she felt a wound open up on her forehead from the impact. Blood slowly trickled down into her left eye, obscuring her vision in that eye.

Maggie felt her assailant’s warm breath near her ear. “Listen up, bitch. Our boss said to tell you, if ya want to live, you’ll forget about fingerin’ him for that shootin’,” said the person holding her arms. The stench of his breath made Maggie gag.

Without thinking, acting purely on instinct, Maggie stomped down on the youth’s instep. She tried to elbow him in the ribs, but his grip on her upper arms was too tight. As he cursed her actions, he thrust her toward two other men. In the dim hallway light, Maggie could see they each wore a yellow bandana wrapped around their head. Hearing his companion cursing, and seeing Maggie come flying toward him, the second youth pulled back a fist and punched the left side of Maggie’s face as her flight took her closer to him. The third youth grabbed her left arm as her body turned from the punch. He pulled her arm behind her and twisted it up high enough she was bent forward at the waist. Finally able to draw breath, Maggie screamed as loud as she could.