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Back to Reality

KA-THUNK!

WHIRRRRR!

I was awake. Immediately I was greeted by a train rushing by, clanking and banging against the rails. I was sitting on a bench, alone, in a dusty platform, one that I only recognized as Waterfront Station, thanks to the helpful blue sign in front of the blurred colossus rushing by.

How did I end up here? I wondered. Last thing that I remembered was spooning with Rit and the Duke and…

Ah yes. I remembered now. I had a nice chat with a Vulpeculan. Not Yir, this one was oily, and I don't mean his fur was slick and shiny, I mean he looked like he was an arctic animal caught in a crude oil spill that fading celebrities cleaned in charity commercials. He was pitch black and if he hadn't been so nice, it would have been a little intimidating.

The Claw wasn't that bad.

All he did was ask me a few nice questions about the party and the weather.

He was a nice guy.

Still, I wasn't sure how I ended up here, at Waterfront Station. I guess someone gave me a lift, it wasn't anywhere close to a lift-copter landing pad so someone must have. I wish I could have thanked them, perhaps they were as nice as the agent?

I was now in Waterfront Terminal. It was already a rather stately building before the invasion, but the Duke had invested a lot in making it look grand, while not bothering to invest in the actual infrastructure of the train, still-opting for the old, clunky human rail models.

Hanging from the root was a massive chandelier with fist-sized crystal tear-drops dripping from its frame. Resting beneath it was a colossal marble statue of the Emperor, mane and thick robes flowing in frozen wind with a great-sword clutching in his strong paw, blade stuck into the earth.

The Emperor made very few public appearances. This was what we knew him as. He had never visited Earth and likely never would. He likely would not even know Humans existed were it not for the captives that were sent back to join his harem, and based on the speculated size of it, chances are he hadn't even spent any time with them yet.

And good for you, Nate, avoiding that kind of lifestyle! The Duke meant well, I was sure, and it was fun spending that night with him, but I was a free man no matter who ruled my planet and besides, my ass was still aching.

“...today, with heavy hearts, we report that the Emperor's fifth son, Prince Litho…" the baritone voice froze with feigned emotion. I looked, finding the source of it in the form of a large, flat-screen TV at the station bar, the Red Tail. Lounging about the front, for this was the Foreign Quarter and it was filled with aliens who might have been a bit sympathetic to the scumbag, “...was coldly assassinated while attending Duke Horith's most recent party. The Claw has been assigned to the case and are working to produce a culprit..."

And I was sure they would do fine. The nice, fuzzy oil slick would find out who was responsible. I was sure of it!

“...Despite being fifth in line for the Imperial Throne, the Prince was close with King Ralesh of Earth. Rumors that when the heirless King was considering appointing him as his successor have been ended with today's news. King Ralesh has been visiting the Duke of Europa and has been unavailable for comment..."

“A round on the house for the departed Prince!"

I left the bar and the station, getting on the first bus out of here. I didn't remember taking a bus pass with me to the party, but sure enough, there was one in my suit pant's pocket.

It was a long ride. There was nothing of note, except for an advertisement on the inside of the bus for extra-stretchable condoms, “For when one size is Knot enough."

Soon enough, I was back at my apartment in the suburbs. It was a little odd, realizing that Argus owned the place, especially since in some ways, I kind of spurned him. Surely he didn't know about the Duke's bath with me, but I knew he had similar intentions. If he had been the one to have come to my rescue, I probably would have had a moment of weakness with him instead.

Fuck it. It was time to go home and rest. Maybe I'd take the week off, unless someone called. Lord knew I went through enough this weekend and…

I stopped just short of my door.

It was cracked open slightly.

Inside, there was a muffled rattle of metal in the sink. Someone was there.

Any other day and I would have called the cops, but today I felt emboldened. I had just had one hell of a scary adventure and now I just didn't give a fuck.

Shoving the door open, I lunged inside.

“Get the fuck out, right…!"

I stopped.

Standing in the kitchenette was Rit, wearing nothing but a frilly, pink apron (that I certainly didn't own.), her bushy, white-tipped tail wagging happily as she scrubbed a soapy pot. She looked at me askew, her amber eyes giving an air of innocence.

“Master, is something wrong?"

My jaw dropped. Literally. I nearly felt the damn thing unhinge.

“That expression means something different for us, Master," she said, wagging a finger at me. She spoke submissively, but she seemed so casual and in-control in her body language. I preferred her this way, “Back home it means you're about to force someone into a fight or a fuck."

“I-I'm not..."

Smiling, she shook her head, plopping the pot onto the drying rack with a thud, “For Humans, its an expression of comical shock, isn't it? Plus I know you're not the fighting type and if you wanted to fuck, well..."

“How did you get here?"

She tilted her head in confusion, “Have you forgotten?"

“I don't think so."

“You must have," she smirked, sauntering over to me and lowering her head submissively. Behind the frills of of the neck band of the apron, I saw the hint of her metal collar, “Duke Horith, as a gesture of friendship, decided to give me to you as a gift."

“But that's not..."

“Refusing would be a grave insult," she whispered with a slight threat, bumping her head lightly against my chin and running her nose against my cheek. Laughing, she continued, “Besides, what would a poor, innocent girl like me do if you were to let me loose? All those scary people out there waiting to take advantage of me!"

“No, no," I said, waving my hand. Without even realizing it, I wrapped my other hand around her hip, feeling the base of her tail, “I meant how did you get in?"

She stared up at me, her slitted pupils dilating for a split-second, “The door was unlocked."

A chill went down my spine.

“Are you sure?"

She nodded.

Breaking away, I ignored her, storming around the apartment, rummaging through my dressers, closets, and cabinets for signs of any missing items. Most of them were already filled with oodles of spare electronics and honestly, I couldn't even begin to take a full inventory, but I could have sworn a few small pieces of equipment were missing. All client computers were accounted for.

“Is everything okay, Master?"

“No," I said, shaking my head rapidly, “No, no, Rit. I always keep my door locked. Everything looks fine but..."

I darted to the kitchen, flinging open the fridge. Right away, I saw something more important than a few USB drives was missing.

“Where's my beer!?"

“I haven't taken anything from the fridge!"

“Shit!" I slammed the door shut, causing the Vulpeculan to jump, startled. Feeling bad, I took a few deep breaths and trying my best to speak calmly, I talked to Rit, “Can you tell if anyone has been here? With your nose?"

“You want me to get on all fours and start sniffing for clues?"

Pausing. When she said it that way, it was hard not to feel like an asshole.

Her thin, black lips parted in a toothy smile, “If you ordered me to, I would, but I can already smell plenty."

“And?"

“I smell Human. Lots of it."

“Anyone in particular?"

“You."

I waited for a follow-up. All I got was a mischievous grin.

“Anyone else?"

“Yes, but I couldn't tell you who, I did not exactly have a lot of contact with Humans at the Duke's manor," she opened her mouth slightly, sniffing daintily at the air, “Mostly males. Barely any female. I thought you said you weren't..."

“Dry spell. Lets move on," I looked around nervously. It felt like every inch of my apartment was caked in a grime layer, despite the walls and furniture being pristine clean, no doubt thanks to Rit. My sanctuary was breached. Even though privacy laws were increasingly flexible and Ducal authorities did not need a warrant to search your house if they had the slightest suspicion, there were still common decencies to be observed. I needed something to take my mind off this and unfortunately, the thief had seen fit to rob me of my carbonated, barley-malt relaxation medicine.

Ignoring the fact that I had a gorgeous Vulpeculan slave that was wearing nothing but an apron and who had made it clear that she was not about to say no to a little bedroom action; I proposed a new course of action.

“How about we watch some TV? I'm dead tired."

Her ears perked up.

“Maybe they'll even have that movie we were watching playing; we can continue where we left off."

I flopped down onto the sofa and flicked the screen on.

“...in honor of Prince Litho..."

I immediately changed the channel. Rit took her place beside me on the couch, wrapped her arm around me and leaned her head against my shoulder with a sigh. Not objecting in any way, I reached around her back and pulled her close. Only upon feeling thick fur on her chest did I realize the apron had come off. I brushed against one of her many nipples, causing her to moan.

“Intergalactic Films Presents: The Red King," the preview showed a grainy image of a red-furred Vulpeculan atop a golden throne with a naked harem girl swooning at his feet, “The classic Vulpeculan forbidden romance between a King and a tribal warrior woman."

“Seen this one?" I asked.

“Yes. I'll spoil it for you: she agrees to be his slave concubine, she never takes up arms again, and births him many kits. The forbidden romance ends as soon as she puts the collar on. The rest of the movie is just sex. Really bad sex."

“Not a fan?"

“You don't want to hear the details."

“Sure I do."

“No, you don't," she giggled, covering her eyes in embarrassment.

“Oh, come on!"

“Trust me!" Laughing, she rolled back, sprawling out on the cough and exposing her chest to me, “It's bad!"

“I command you to tell me!" I said, with a joking grin.

“Well..." Her left ear twitched, “My first master would have me pretend to be the female lead and him be the male lead during sex."

“Oh..."

“I'd say, “Yes! Yes! Rahkes! Knot me! Fill me up! I'll give you a million kits!"" She thrusted her thighs as she said this, exposing the folds of her pussy to me. Putting on a funny, male voice, she continued, “You are mine, Lakt. Your pussy is mine. Your womb is mine..."

“I, uh...I think I get the picture."

“You ordered me to tell you! Don't get mad!" She snickered, crawling back to my side and laying her head on my lap, eyes looking up at me. I placed my hand on her head and scratched behind her ear, “I think he really wanted kits. He was probably sterile and sold me after I didn't get pregnant. I was not the first he did this to."

“So, I should change the channel."

“Please."

I was about to tap the remote when the picture suddenly changed to a modern news-desk with Earth's most famous newscaster, Allen Jacobs. Immediately I could tell something was serious, normally he would have a shit-eating grin and immaculately slicked back hair, he had those ever since he was conscripted by the occupiers as a spokesperson for their invasion; but today he looked panicked and his hair was a tangled mess.

“Reports have just come in from Europa that His Highness, King Ralesh has been shot in Sarajevo..."

Rit exclaimed something in Vulpeculan.

“...Doctors and the Royal Staff have refused to comment on his condition, but he is in sur..."

Allen Jacobs was quickly replaced by hissing static before being just as quickly replaced with a poorly focused and shaky footage of Regulian solders standing over Human prisoners who were kneeling in a field in a line. One of the Regulians marched behind them, stopping every second or third prisoner to shoot them in the back of the head. The bodies fell silently.

“The Regulian occupiers are not your friends."

Footage from the very start of the invasion was now on, showing a bright light slowly grow in the sky behind tall skyscrapers, one of which was easily recognizable as the Sears Tower, before a massive mushroom cloud erupted from behind and the video abruptly stopped. This was well-known footage, ingrained in many people's memories. This was our first contact with extraterrestrial life. They did not come in peace.

There were videos posted publicly weeks before demanding an unconditional surrender of all nations. Everyone thought it was a viral campaign for a movie and the most common opinion was that the lion costumes were unrealistic, but at least they weren't CGI.

“They killed our families."

A soldier, young, closer to being a child than an adult, was now shown, cowering behind a rock as explosions rocked the world around him. He was wearing the uniform of the Royal Marines.

“They make us fight their wars."

Rit clutched at my arm, digging her claws in as the next image came on. A group of emaciated Vulpeculans chained together. Men, women, children were all there, forced to march through a vast, flat desert while noble Vulpeculans atop war horses and rifles slung around their shoulders pranced around atop their steeds, laughing and joking. Even with the poor video quality it was impossible to ignore that plenty of the slaves had serious wounds, including one woman with a leg that was bald and clearly gangrenous. It was such a needlessly cruel picture that it had to have been fake, but there have been endless rumors about the aberrant and violent psyche of the Vulpeculan client nobles, so there was a basis for truth behind it.

“This will be us, unless we fight back."

The film concluded with one final, short clip. It was the King of Earth himself, wrapping his cloak around his neck while walking along the Miljacka River in Sarajevo surrounded by his Regulian bodyguards and hanger-ons. Then his head violently jerked to the side, followed by his neck bursting open, leaving only about half of it left. The clip ended just before he hit the ground.

“Fight back!"

Allen Jacobs was on the screen once more, his eyes and face frozen in fear as he stared at the camera. He had made his career based on being able to bullshit and swing the Regulian's agenda as best as he could, but now he had nothing – nothing to say. Whether he liked it or not, his station had just broadcast the biggest piece of rebel propaganda since the war ended, and not only that, one that clearly showed the King was more than likely at the morgue and not an operating room. There was likely a Regulian official, claw wrapped around a phone, demanding answers and blood right now.

The news feed cut out, replaced by a static image of a circle, half green and half blue, on a black background; the Kingdom of Earth's banner (Most of the aliens did not have the same color aesthetics as humans.). “Our" anthem trumpeted out, instrumental only, as the lines, “Long live the King," were probably too on the nose.

Outside the apartment came the echoes of different songs. I heard both “Oh Canada" and the “Star-Spangled Banner", among others. Sneaking to the window, I saw a crowd of people rushing to the streets.

“The King is dead!"

“Down with the Occupiers!"

A hand gently touched my shoulder and I peeked back to find Rit watching outside from behind me.

“I would turn out the lights if I were you," Rit whispered, “And keep away from the windows."

“Why?"

“Is your apartment human-owned?"

“No, but most of the ones around here aren't."

“But who owns yours?"

“Argus Corp."

Then I halted, remembering just how huge Argus's property assets were and how recognizable the logo planted on the front of my building was advertising that it was owned by him. This was different than the smaller companies with CEOs that kept their head down, that owned many of the other buildings, this was an apartment owned and ran by a rich dog who had enough money to buy your whole family if he wanted.

Consequently, if someone on the streets were to look at such a building and see the silhouette of a figure on a balcony leering down at them, that would be making myself a bit of a target. It would be even worse if they could have seen me with an alien slave clutching my arm.

I flicked the lights off. Just in time as I heard the crash of glass ring out, not mine, thankfully.

We went to the bedroom, pushed the bed to be as far away from the window as possible, and bundled up under the blankets. We laid there all night, Rit's small, quivering body pressed up against mine. She was scared and so was I. There was a riot brewing outside and someone had already broken into my home.

Uncertain times were coming.