Chapter One
In hindsight, Rina realized she probably should have paid more attention to the letters from the Population Ministry. In her defense, the agency sent flyers to all unmated females under the age of forty regularly. Not to mention, she always got a crapton of junk mail. Crap. Ton.
So, when more and more showed up, she… recycled more and more. She was environmentally conscious that way. Plus, recycling was the law. But she would have done it anyway.
Except the letters… kept coming, she kept recycling, and her happy-ish little life continued as always.
Until The Knock .
Rina lived in one of the few true homes remaining along the coast of Tampa. Her parents never sold their small plot of land by the sea as so many others had. When they’d wanted to relocate to one of those high rises, they signed it over to her. She was bracketed by pristine, high-tech sky-high condominiums, with amazing security and… her house actually had a door. A wooden one. There were no bells or cameras to check for visitors. Nope, Rina was a windows and knocking kind of gal.
She ran her fingers through her hair, allowing the water—real water, not that sonic shower stuff—to rinse away the enviro-friendly shampoo she loved. She had exactly twenty minutes to finish her shower, toss on some clothes and makeup, and then dash out the door for work. At some point, she’d snag some sea toast—toasted seaweed, yum—to keep her going until lunch.
Same schedule, different day.
A rapid tap of knuckles on wood reached her and she froze, fingers buried in her soapy hair. Did she really hear—the sound came again, this time louder and firmer. Dammit. Didn’t they know she had to get to work? Her morning routine was planned down to the second so she could sleep in as long as possible every day.
She tilted her head back and ruffled her hair beneath the spray, hurrying to rinse her strands and answer the door. Of course, the thumping came again, echoing through her small home. Insistent assholes. She’d almost thought it was her mother being so impatient, but the interfering woman had her own key. Rina didn’t have the heart to upset her and change the locks, no matter how tempted she was.
More knocking and—did the wood creak? Were they breaking down her door? No. No way.
Growling, she ran her fingers through her hair once more and then cut the water. These intruders wouldn’t leave and she still hadn’t finished bathing, which meant she was gonna be late. That realization annoyed her even more than her visitors. And heaven help them if they were door-to-door salesmen.
Rina snagged her bathrobe and slipped on the terry cloth covering as she stomped to the front door. More knocking, more creaking, and she didn’t bother checking the peephole to see if she recognized her guests before she wrenched the door open. At the same time, a nice droplet of still-soapy water made its way into her eye.
Lovely.
Rina didn’t wait for them to identify themselves. “Who are you and what do you want?” Using her one good eye to peruse her visitors, she realized she should have identified them first, snarled second. Ujal guards stood on her doorstep. Not just Ujal guards. Oh no, she had to be bitchy to Ujal high guards . They protected the alien race’s Earth-based, high-ranking citizens. Or rather, they were living in Earth’s oceans. “I mean,” she cleared her throat. “GentleUjal, how can I help you?”
And please don’t imprison me for being a tad bitchy.
She wouldn’t admit that she was feeling more than a tad .
The Ujal had settled on Earth decades ago, appearing just when humanity needed them most. Their oceans were failing, water polluted, and animal life destroyed due to their own actions. The Ujal would care for the oceans… for a price. A price which ended up being new environmental laws—Rina was all for those—and their people building settlements within the oceans’ depths. They had scales and fins—tails—when
In hindsight, Rina realized she probably should have paid more attention to the letters from the Population Ministry. In her defense, the agency sent flyers to all unmated females under the age of forty regularly. Not to mention, she always got a crapton of junk mail. Crap. Ton.
So, when more and more showed up, she… recycled more and more. She was environmentally conscious that way. Plus, recycling was the law. But she would have done it anyway.
Except the letters… kept coming, she kept recycling, and her happy-ish little life continued as always.
Until The Knock .
Rina lived in one of the few true homes remaining along the coast of Tampa. Her parents never sold their small plot of land by the sea as so many others had. When they’d wanted to relocate to one of those high rises, they signed it over to her. She was bracketed by pristine, high-tech sky-high condominiums, with amazing security and… her house actually had a door. A wooden one. There were no bells or cameras to check for visitors. Nope, Rina was a windows and knocking kind of gal.
She ran her fingers through her hair, allowing the water—real water, not that sonic shower stuff—to rinse away the enviro-friendly shampoo she loved. She had exactly twenty minutes to finish her shower, toss on some clothes and makeup, and then dash out the door for work. At some point, she’d snag some sea toast—toasted seaweed, yum—to keep her going until lunch.
Same schedule, different day.
A rapid tap of knuckles on wood reached her and she froze, fingers buried in her soapy hair. Did she really hear—the sound came again, this time louder and firmer. Dammit. Didn’t they know she had to get to work? Her morning routine was planned down to the second so she could sleep in as long as possible every day.
She tilted her head back and ruffled her hair beneath the spray, hurrying to rinse her strands and answer the door. Of course, the thumping came again, echoing through her small home. Insistent assholes. She’d almost thought it was her mother being so impatient, but the interfering woman had her own key. Rina didn’t have the heart to upset her and change the locks, no matter how tempted she was.
More knocking and—did the wood creak? Were they breaking down her door? No. No way.
Growling, she ran her fingers through her hair once more and then cut the water. These intruders wouldn’t leave and she still hadn’t finished bathing, which meant she was gonna be late. That realization annoyed her even more than her visitors. And heaven help them if they were door-to-door salesmen.
Rina snagged her bathrobe and slipped on the terry cloth covering as she stomped to the front door. More knocking, more creaking, and she didn’t bother checking the peephole to see if she recognized her guests before she wrenched the door open. At the same time, a nice droplet of still-soapy water made its way into her eye.
Lovely.
Rina didn’t wait for them to identify themselves. “Who are you and what do you want?” Using her one good eye to peruse her visitors, she realized she should have identified them first, snarled second. Ujal guards stood on her doorstep. Not just Ujal guards. Oh no, she had to be bitchy to Ujal high guards . They protected the alien race’s Earth-based, high-ranking citizens. Or rather, they were living in Earth’s oceans. “I mean,” she cleared her throat. “GentleUjal, how can I help you?”
And please don’t imprison me for being a tad bitchy.
She wouldn’t admit that she was feeling more than a tad .
The Ujal had settled on Earth decades ago, appearing just when humanity needed them most. Their oceans were failing, water polluted, and animal life destroyed due to their own actions. The Ujal would care for the oceans… for a price. A price which ended up being new environmental laws—Rina was all for those—and their people building settlements within the oceans’ depths. They had scales and fins—tails—when
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