Chapter 1

Katherine was out of work. Not that she was wanting for money. In the new economy no one worked for more than six months out of the year. So, technically, she wasn’t unemployed, but she was on something like an extended sabbatical. Again. And she was bored to tears. Again.

Most people loved it. Since the Arrival, the Klorn had helped make work and healthcare so efficient that the number of jobs had dwindled precipitously. The only just solution had been to share those few jobs over as much of the population there was who wanted to work. So those who did work, only worked half a year on, half a year off.

All that extra time had been a boon to most of the planet, but to women like Katherine, stuck in a loveless marriage, the extra time around each other had been unbearable. The divorce rate had spiked badly that first year. The last two years she’d traveled extensively during her time off but she could find no enthusiasm for another another plane, another cruise ship.

So she sat in her spacious apartment and scrolled through the news on her tablet, hoping to find something to alleviate her boredom. She tapped “Next Page” but before the new page had loaded she’d tapped the “back” button. Something had caught her eye. A small article - or was it an ad - had flashed up at her from the bottom right corner just before the earlier page had dissolved.

“We Need You” it had said. There was a funny looking old mad pointing at her in a blue jacket over a white shirt with a red tie. And he wore a top hat! White, with a blue band and a star on the front. He was pointing right out of the corner of the page at her! And what was weird was that the text kept changing. It read “We Need You” for a few seconds and then it changed to “Yes, you, Katherine!”

She nearly dropped her tablet. This kind of targeted advertising had been outlawed years ago as a breach of privacy, so she’d never seen one before. But this old man’s finger was pointed right at her. The finger and his eyes seemed to follow her if she moved her head or the tablet. Like he knew her.

It was really startling, but also fascinating in her current state. There was a small link at the bottom. “Click Here To Find Your Adventure!.” She wasn’t sure about it. It might be some kind of hoax or scam, but she didn’t really care. Adventure sounded good. She tapped the link.

Several blocks away a technician looked up from his console. “Sir? We’ve got a response.”

“Finally. Who is it? God I hope this works.”

“Her name is Katherine Baker. She’s 33, lives alone...” The tech was cut off.

“Well of course she lives alone. We didn’t target that ad to any women who had families. Tell me something I don’t know, soldier!”

“Yessir. She works at a realty management firm, handles rentals and leases, kind of a paralegal without the title. She’s smart, scores high on IQ and intuitive testing, and I think she’s more or less their type. Here, have a look.”

The junior officer brought up several clandestinely taken photos. They showed a woman who was reasonably fit, brunette (why did they not like blondes, the Colonel wondered again) with the sort of proportions the Klorn tended to find suitable. That is, she wasn’t a twig. Not really overweight, but was what humans might call “nice curves.” The width of her pelvis seemed particularly well suited to the task they’d offer her.

“Good. Get a team over there now. And I mean yesterday. Send Celia’s team. She’s the best recruiter we have. We can’t miss on this again.”

“On it sir.” The Colonel turned away thoughtfully while the tech dialed up the recruitment team and sent them on their way, with urgency. “Anything else, sir?”

“No, just keep your eyes peeled for anyone else who might be a candidate. I can’t believe there aren’t any more women out there who aren’t dying for something different.” His voice faded as he walked away.

Meanwhile, across town a plain sedan rushed toward Katherine’s last known position with one “bubble gum” light but no siren. The Colonel’s urgency seeped down into the ranks below him and everyone felt on edge. Celia sat in the passenger seat wringing her hands, reviewing her notes. She had made this sales pitch a dozen times before. Seven of the women had accepted the assignment. None had succeeded, though they’d all been well compensated for the attempt. And while Klorns’ biological clocks ran infiinitely more slowly than human ones, there were limits. And the Klorn as a species were at risk.

The car skidded to a stop in front of Katherine’s building. “Is she stil home?” asked Celia. “Yep. Got one life sign in the apartment allotted to her. Unless she has a dog, which isn’t in our file.” The answer came from the squared away naval officer seated behind the wheel of the car while he watched the touch screen mounted on the dash. “Do you want me to come with you? or do the girl to girl thing?” Celia looked him over. Trim, 6’3” tall, broad shouldered, dark skinned. In his Navy dress whites he cut quite a figure. “You come too. Her dad was miliatry. Marines, but I bet she’ll go for the HooRah thing, the patriotic angle. You can add that better than I can if we need it.”

Celia’s security badge got them past the lobby and the two of them took the lift to Katherine’s apartment on the 34th floor. Finding the correct door, they pushed the button for the bell. Nothing happened. “Make a note of that, Mark. Let’s get it fixed for her pronto. Make a good impression. The officer stepped aside and spoke rapidly into a tiny cell phone embedded in his uniform collar. “Guy’ll be here in ten to fix it.” “Good,” said Celia, and knocked.

Inside, Katherine jumped when she heard the knock at the door. No one visited anyone any more. It was all done on some sort of screen unless you were meeting friends out. “Probably just some maintenance issue,” she thought, and got up to answer the door. Opening it she saw a woman about her own age, blonde, nicely dressed, but in a lab coat, which looked very much out of place. Next to her stood a really handsome black man in naval whites. He was a long way from any base she knew about unless they’d built one near Cincinnati on the Ohio. Katherine was mildly alarmed.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“Hi. My name’s Celia. Celia Goddard, and this is Lieutenant Commander Hays of the U.S. Navy. We’re hoping to speak to Katherine Fuller?” Celia knew this was Katherine. This was just part of the soft approach.

“I’m Katherine,” she answered, stepping back from the door. “Would you like to come in?”

Celia thanked her and they stepped into the entrance hall. Katherine continued, “Would you like to sit in the living room? Have a cup of coffee?” Celia was immediately heartened by the way that Katherine adjusted to the appearance of two stangers on her doorstep. Flexible, self-assured. Good.

“Sounds great. Mike? You too?”

“No thank you ma’am. I’m fine.” Mike played the discipline card perfectly. His ramrod posture screamed “RELIABLE!” while his warm smile and deference whispered “and safe.” Celia was so glad they’d teamed her with him. He went into the living room and took a seat at the edge of a comfortable arm chair while Celia went into the kitchen with Katherine to help with the coffee. “Thanks for seeing us Katherine. We’re actually here because you replied to that internet ad we had out.”

Katherine nearly dropped the carafe of water she was pouring into the coffee maker. “That? But I only clicked that fifteen minutes ago!” She managed to get almost all of the water into the coffee maker’s tank in spite of her surprise. “Oh, and call me Kat, please? Everybody does, and Katherine makes you sound like my mother!” She laughed. “You must REALLY need people if you show up that fast!” she said, trying to pry a little information out of her visitor.

“To be honest,” said Celia in a simple tone of voice, “we do. Badly.”

Kat put in a biodegradable coffee pod and started the machine. It started to moan from the sudden heating of the water. “And you need me? That ad had my name on it. How did you do that?”

“Yes, you. I’ll get into that when we sit down. But we have some very sophisticated advertising algorithms these days.”

Kat laughed. “Very!”

She finished making the coffee while Celia confirmed her marital status, the fact that she has had no children, not even a failed pregnancy. Other personal details that helped her to be certain that Kat might be willing to take on the role they were about to ask her to fulfill. They carried two mugs of coffee to the living room and sat down, where Mike was waiting, thumbing through something on his phone.

When they were all situated, Celia began. “Okay, this is why we ran the ad and why we were to anxious to get to you once you’d responded.”

“We’ve gone through literally hundreds of thousands of physical and psychological profiles and selected those we think would be suitable for the mission we’re trying to accomplish. We targeted the ad you saw to less than one half of one percent of the women we reviewed. So far, you are only the thirteenth potential candidate who’s responded.”

“Thirteenth, huh? Not a lucky number,” said Kat.

“Hadn’t thought of that, to be honest, or I’d have made up some other number!” laughed Celia. “The point is, we’ve had twelve previous candidates, but none of them worked out.”

“Candidates for what, exactly?”

“I’m getting to that. I’m sorry this is taking so long, but I want you to understand how badly we need your help before I get into the real mission.” Kat nodded solemnly. “Okay.”

“The thing is, the Klorn need our help. Badly. Their entire species is under threat, and it’s, well, it’s something they can’t sort out without the willing support of some other species. You know how much they’ve given to humans. They do it without any preconditions, but they have asked our help to save them. And that’s where you come in.”

“Me? Why?”

At this point, Celia turned to Mike and nodded. He took a single sheet out of his briefcase and handed it to her. “Before I can tell you, I need you to sign this. It’s the Official Secrets Act. You’ll have to promise not to repeat a word I’m about to tell you to anyone, ever. To do so will be considered an act of treason and you’ll be imprisoned for the rest of your life.” Kat looked more and more concerned as she went on. “Don’t worry, signing isn’t agreeing. You’ll be permitted to say no to the program at any point, but I can tell you this much. Once you’ve agreed you’ll be taken care of for life, no matter the outcome.”

Kat sat there in silence, staring at the page on her coffee table for what seemed an eternity to both members of the team, then she looked up. “Do you have a pen?”

Mike handed her a pen and she signed it. He tucked it carefully back into his briefcase. “Thank you,” said Celia with a relieved smile. “I can tell you some of it here if you’d like, or we can take you to the complex, where I can explain things a lot better. Which would you like?”

“Hmm. What if you tell me what you can in the car on the way to the complex?” asked Kat, feeling considerably more interested now that she’d committed herself.

“That’s a good idea. Mike? Would you like to bring the car around, or shall I?”

“I’ll get it,” he said and winked at both of them, striding smoothly out the door. Kat’s eyes followed him with interest. “Hot, isn’t he?” asked Celia.

“Oh, uh,” blushed Kat, “I suppose so, yeah.” Then she gave her an embarrassed smile. “It, um, it’s been a while.”

Celia nodded. “We know, we uh, well, we did a really thorough check on you before we sent that ad to your tablet.”

“You know how long it’s been since I had sex?” Celia nodded calmly. “God, do you know how I like to do it? The kind of man I find attractive? How many I’ve had?” Celia nodded again.

“We had to, to confirm that you might, just might be willing to buy into what we are hoping to do. It’s ... rather unusual.”

“I dont even want to know how you found all that out, all right? Don’t ever tell me, okay?” Kat said, her face now bright red. “Can we go?”

“We can, if you’d like. Or, you can bring a few things. If you decide to give this all a try, you’ll be staying with us for a while, so you might like to pack a suitcase.”

“Uh, can I come back and get stuff if I need it later?”

“Mm, hmm. Or we can send someone around for it if you’d prefer. Now that you’ve signed on, you’re sort of a queen. You’ll be amazed at what the Colonel will do to keep you happy!”

“Either they’re really desperate” thought Kat to herself, “or what they want is really dangerous or awful. Either way, I think I like being treated like a queen.” “Okay, then let’s go, I don’t want to bother with packing right now. You have my curiosity piqued.” They started out her door and toward the elevator. “What can you tell me now?”

Celia put a finger to her lips. “Nothing. I don’t know that this elevator’s secure. We’ll talk in the car.” Kat frowned.

“But my apartment?”

“Mike has a signal suppressor in his briefcase. Even if there were a bug there, and we’ve scanned to be sure there isn’t, all they would have heard is static.”

“Shit,” muttered Kat. “You guys don’t mess around.”

“No, Kat, we don’t. We can’t. The survival of an entire sentient species may depend on what we’re trying to do here.”

Katherine wanted more than ever to ask more questions, but Celia’s serious demeanor helped her wait. But once they’d climbed into the back seat of the enormous government limo that Mike was driving she turned to the other woman and said, “Okay, now, tell me? What’s this all about.”

Celia took a deep breath. “I’ll just say it straight out. The Klorn are dying out as a species. They need help, um, well, reproducing.”

“Reproducing.” said Kat, dully, as if she couldn’t quite understand the word. Celia just nodded.

“You, you’re kidding, right? You don’t mean you need women to get pregnant by some alien do you?”

Celia took on a very business-like air, something intended to lower the tension. “No, of course not. Their DNA, if they have DNA, would never allow that, but we do need women who’d act as “hosts.” Kat started to shake her head. “Hear me out, okay? I know it’s weird and awful sounding, but they’re in desperate need, so please listen to it all before you decide, okay?”

Kat slumped back in the seat. “All right. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” started Celia. “You see, the Klorn are a unisexual race, that is, they don’t have males and females. But they can’t reproduce on their own. They require a host species, one that exists alongside them symbiotically, to host their offspring during the first stage of gestation. Their former partner species, we can’t figure out what to call them, but that species died out in some sort of plague or something, hundreds of years ago. Since then they’ve been searching the galaxy for a sentient species who would agree to partner with them.

“When they first arrived, they never let on that this was their hope. They offered us technological and medical assistance without conditon. But after several months they let on that they needed help themselves, and asked if we’d be willing. No threat, no demand, only a very polite question. It took us a good while just to understand what they needed help with, and how we might assist them.

“You see, they have no speech organs. They’re telepaths. Empathic telepaths to be precise. They can communicate thoughts, but they come out as images, not words. And they can communicate feelings as well as sense them. So explaining all this took a while. We didn’t understand what they were showing us at first. Somewhere along the way, that’s when we gave them the name “Klorn.” That was the only thing like a word that anyone they talked to, or rather thought to, that was the only thing we ever really “heard” in our sessions and we still have no idea what it means. But it kept us from calling them “blobs.”

“Blobs?” echoed Kat incredulously.

“Well, yes, they’re pretty amorphous. That’s part of the reason that only a few select humans have been allowed to see them. It would only frighten the general populace, we think.”

“But how to they build those ships? All those amazing tools and equipment? All those computers? Without hands or something like them?”

Mike jumped in at this point, half turning his head to speak while keeping his eyes on the road ahead. His voice betrayed his excitement and admiration. “That’s where they get really interesting. It seems that the Klorn can shape themselves into almost any shape they require and then make that new appendage as hard or as soft and pliable as it needs to be. It’s amazing. They can make something roughly like a hand, though it only has what we’d call two fingers and a thumb, to hold things, gently enough to pick up a needle or an egg, but they can also form a thing that functions like a hammer or tongs, hard as steel for manipulating metal or other hard substances. They can even put a knife’s edge on an arm of sorts for cutting. Astonishing!”

“Tone it down, Mike,” said Celia, “You’re frightening our guest,” she added with a chuckle. “He does get enthusiastic about them.

“So, if they can do all that, why can’t they just fashion themselves into an incubator or something? Instead of using another species?”

“We don’t know that, Kat. We’d like to understand, but there are limits to our ability to communicate with them, and no matter how we struggle to get it, the only answer we get is “Klorn, Klorn.”

“Wait,” said Kat. “You said they lost their other um, partner species, they lost them hundreds of years ago? Why aren’t they all dead?”

“You caught that. Yes, well, they nearly are. There are only a few hundred of them left, and they’re all here on Earth with us. They live hundreds of years, but even with that life span, this group is starting to age out. The worst is, they only have one left among them who is capable of reproducing. Only about one in a thousand of them is born capable of reproducing. Of course, those special ones are treasured. This one has every need tended to, especially as he ... or it ... I can’t stop calling it a he, anyways, as he’s the last. He’ll probably live another hundred to a hundred fifty years, And during that time he can produce innumerable offspring, but they’ve tried already on three other worlds and none has proven to be a good hosting partner. Even with their technology, travel between star systems takes time. If Earth doesn’t work out for them, they’ll move on, but who knows if they’ll ever find another possible species. They don’t seem to be very confident.

Kat sat there feeling sick to her stomach. All she could think of was that old classic, “Alien,” and that awful snake thingy bursting out of the human stomachs. Her face started to look a bit green around the edges. Celia noticed. “Kat, Kat, listen to me. The women who choose to help them. No harm with come to you, or anyone else who agrees. Yes, your life will change, radically, but you wont be harmed. They are an incredibly loving and gentle species. You’ll discover that when you meet one.”

“When I meet one?”

“Mm hmm. If you like. But only if you’re still thinking you might want to go the next step. They’ve assigned a liaison of sorts, one of them who has learned to tolerate the chaotic reactions we have to them better than most. You see, when you look at one and are revolted or disgusted, they feel that. It causes them real pain. They put up with it for the sake or their future and for the sake of the relationship they want to have with us but they feel pain.”