An Alien Love Bk. 02 Ch. 22

Hi again. I was just sitting here working on this super long prologue for Sky's The Limit An (Off-The-Rails) Ice Era Chronicle and... my aliens called to me! So I thought I would add a little to this story. I'm thinking of sharing some of my work-in-progress (WIP) but right now I need to cut it down and I don't know where to start. What's the saying? Write Drunk, Edit Sober. So I guess I need to get a clear head and cut up this looooong scene. Anyway, here is more of Sloan and Octnavin. I hope you like it.

Cheers,

~M. From C.M. Moore

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*Chapter 22*

Meeting Munroe.

The next morning, Sloan dressed in his pajama pants, shirt, and bathrobe. Nothing else fit. He went down to Elijah's apartment, and all the time he prayed that contacting this Munroe stranger wasn't a mistake.

Elijah's home was the same layout as Sloan's except that where the gym stuff was, Elijah had finished paintings, art supplies, and blank canvases. Sloan entered and then sat on the couch and waited. According to the phone call, Munroe would show up at ten. Sloan had a sleepless night and could barely stop from vomiting. Eating wasn't even happening anymore. He liked the raspberry smoothies, but he felt full. Every time he rolled over, it was like junior would shift and press on his organs. Now even the offspring was starting to get nervous.

~You should've told me you were here sooner,~ Sloan muttered in his head.

~Sooner? English is a hard language to master in a few days. It takes you humans years to learn it. Cut me some slack.~

That was so his kid.

The knock on the door pulled Sloan out of his conversation with Junior. Glancing up, he held his breath as Elijah opened the door. A tall, wiry old man in his sixties lumbered into the room as if his knees hurt. The stranger bent over like he had back problems and set down a large black suitcase. He then hobbled straight toward the art. The guy didn't even scan the room. His eyes were glued to a landscape painting of a city with a pale peach sky and drifting clouds around mountains.

Elijah offered a small smile to Sloan as the man trudged in and stopped.

"I am glad you reconsidered." Munroe stood before Elijah's work and set his hand lovingly on the canvas.

"Mr. Munroe. This is my friend, Sloan." Elijah waved to Sloan on the couch.

"It is just Munroe." Munroe glanced behind him and then back at the painting. Suddenly, he stopped looking at the work and turned to fully face Sloan. Sloan stood. When the sunlight through the windows caught Munroe's eyes, Sloan blinked in surprise. Those were not human eyes. The forest green was deep and mysterious and much younger than his old frame. They stared at each other before Munroe's eyes dropped to Sloan's bathrobe outfit.

"Sloan and I need some help contacting a friend of ours. I was thinking I would give you a really good deal on my art if you use your computer skills to help us."

"Oh." Again, Munroe scanned Sloan from the top of his head to his bare toes peeking out from his pants.

"It's on the up and up. It's nothing illegal. We need to look into a restricted number. Can you do something like that?"

"I can..." Munroe didn't move for a minute and then he glanced back at the painting. "I thought you said you have never been here."

"What?" Elijah frowned. "I haven't. I told you it was from a dream." Elijah held out his phone. "It's really important that I call my friend. His name is JP."

Munroe ignored the outstretched cell. Once more his eyes flipped to the sunshine streaming into the apartment. After a second, he walked up to Sloan. Sloan tipped his head up as the stranger pulled his robe open and set his hand on Sloan's stomach.

"You are running out of time."

"I know." Sloan didn't even bother to play dumb. Maybe Elijah was right in calling this guy. "Who are you?"

"Munroe works as the name I use on Earth, but once I was an esteemed warrior and advisor to the ruler of the Dagerstanteens. Back then I was Munroesolantiam," he chuckled sadly. "But that was another lifetime and we are not here to talk about me."

"You're one of them." Elijah glanced at the painting. "That's why you want my work?"

"That is my home planet." Munroe didn't bother to look back at the painting and instead, he stepped away from Sloan. Sloan closed his robe and sat on the sofa again.

"Will you help me contact JP?" Sloan asked.

"I cannot believe JP left you and his offspring to die. Much has changed. Does JP have so many young that he can ignore this one?"

"It's not JP's kid." Sloan stood and walked to the window. He crossed his arms over his chest. Telling his problems to a strange alien might not be wise, but Sloan took a chance. He was running out of time exactly as the Munroe said. "This is the offspring of the current ruler of the Dagerstanteens. This is Octnavin's young."

"Holy buckets!" Munroe exclaimed.

Sloan turned and grinned at the old man's expression. "He didn't leave me here to die. It wasn't like that. No one knows that I'm like this. If they did know, they would help me. Everyone would. The Dagerstanteens want this kid." Sloan knew that with conviction. He'd seen the desire for offspring in Octnavin's brain. Sloan had lived in the ruler's mind. The alien would never wish for his offspring and Sloan to die. Octnavin would value Junior. The entire planet wanted the next leader.

"You are carrying the future leader of the Dagerstanteens. I never thought I would see this."

"I am." Sloan rubbed the back of his neck. "Unless Junior dies inside of me."

"Is that what will happen?" Elijah asked. "Will the offspring just run out of room and die?"

"The young and the incubator are locked within the same mind while he carries... Junior, as you say." Munroe looked down at his polished shoes. "If the young dies, Sloan will die. If Sloan stops eating and the offspring starves, Sloan dies. If Junior grows too large..."

"I die when he runs out of space inside of me. He feels like he's crushing my organs." Sloan shook his head. "Do you have any ideas on ways for me not to die? I've died enough." Fuck. That was true.

~I'd like to not die if that's an option,~ Junior said dryly.

"You need to talk to JP. He is a respected healer. I am familiar with the royal family. Even though I was exiled, I still keep up with my planet's activities and politics."

"Great." Elijah grinned. "See, Sloan? It was a good idea I called him. You will help us with the phone?" Once again Elijah held out his cell.

Munroe began to pace. Now he no longer moved like an old man but zipped back and forth.

"The phone will not work that way. I cannot get a connection because JP is not on this planet." Munroe passed back and forth and then stared at the painting again. With a click of his shoes, he turned to the art area. "What is this?" Munroe pointed to a small black box with a green glowing light. Cords hung from the machine.

"That?" Elijah tossed his cell to the coffee table and walked to the machine. "JP gave it to me. He pays me to... ah... to watch my brain while I paint. I don't know. I just put the stickers on my neck and temples and work."

Munroe strode to the machine and scooped up the black box and the dangling cords. "Sit, Sloan."

Sloan sat on the couch while Munroe set the box on the coffee table across from him. He pressed a white sticky tab to his temple and plugged the wires into the box. Next, he pushed apart Sloan's robe and stuck two tabs on Sloan's stomach.

"It's not plugged in." Elijah pointed out.

"It does not work like that. It does not need electricity. Inside of this box is a Lotalian plate." Munroe held up his hand. "Trust me. You asked for my help. I am giving it. Tell your offspring to call for help in his native language. He knows what to say."

Sloan closed his eyes. ~Junior?~

~I'll call for help.~

In Sloan's head, a whisper of words he didn't know flowed in and around him like a winding stream. He wished he knew what Junior was saying.

"I don't think it's working." Elijah turned to his computer on the counter. "What if we check on—"

"Give it a second." Munroe held up Elijah's phone. "If you are right, Sloan, and they want this offspring, JP will respond. Junior gave a formal Dagerstanteen request."

Elijah's phone rang.

"Restricted." Munroe grinned. "I guess they do care."

Sloan grabbed the cell and answered.

"What are you doing?" JP barked instead of a greeting.

"It's me." Sloan pressed the phone to his ear. His heart pounded with a rush of happiness. JP would help him fix this. He was positive. "I'm incubating Octnavin's offspring. I hooked up the sticky pads from the machine you gave Elijah. I put them on my stomach. That was Junior talking."

"He is big."

"Understatement."

"He speaks English and Dagerstanteen?"

"And I think a few other languages."

There was silence.

"JP?"

"I will be there as fast as I can." The line went dead. Sloan looked down at the phone's black screen.

"What happened?" Elijah grabbed cold Chinese food and wandered in from the kitchen.

"JP said he'd be here as fast as he could." Sloan met Munroe's eyes.

"I hope he is not far away." Munroe peeled off the tabs, set them aside, and then plopped next to Sloan.

"While we wait." Elijah pulled a chair closer. "You can tell us why you're here and exiled or whatever. Are you a criminal or something?"

"I am not a criminal the way you think," Munroe chuckled. "And really it is not much of a story. I will give you the short version." Munroe stretched his shoulders. "I fell in love with a human. The rules were that I could not have her. I was discovered sneaking here and stripped of my titles and lands. I was banished and told I had gone mad with my lust for a pleasure slave."

"I think I want the long version." Sloan rubbed his belly.

~Me too.~

"Junior-Ruler wants to hear it."

"So do I." Elijah got up. "I'll make raspberry smoothies and you can tell us the whole thing."

"Fine." Munroe rose. "I will stay and give you the whole story, but only if I can take off this human suit and go all-natural."

"Fuck." Sloan yawned. "Why not?"