Chapter 1

"Mr. President, the alien ambassador is on its way."

"Charlie. Right, um..." President Shore looked up from his desk in the Oval Office.

He glanced at the half-dozen Secret Service agents arrayed around him. One of them whispered into a microphone at his cuff and they all held weapons. Small black Uzi machine guns, the President thought, but he was no expert on such things.

" ... Let's get George in here, and the Admiral," Shore told his chief of staff, wondering why he had to be President at that particular moment in history. "Call Henry too."

"I've got them waiting outside," Charlie replied and he'd turned out to be a good man in a storm. He raised his arm, gesturing through the open door.

"Mr. President," George, the austere National Security Advisor, offered his boss the usual thin, polite smile. He always carried a thin briefcase too, but Shore had never seen the man open it.

"Good morning, Mr. President," Admiral Hatt nodded as he strode into the office. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs wore no medals, but only a few campaign ribbons, his prized submariner's dolphins, and the badge of his office.

"Shit, Bob..." The Secretary of the Treasury ignored custom and grinned at the most powerful man in the world.

"Henry," Shore grinned back at his old childhood friend, but there was little humor in it. "I guess we're gonna get our answers, huh?"

Every resource available to the United States government had been working around the clock to uncover any information about the aliens. Hell, the President thought, the entire world had been trying to figure out who and what the aliens were, and more importantly, what they wanted with Earth. Never mind the hysteria and riots, the near collapse of the global economy and its unimaginable rebound three days later when a single word had been broadcast to the planet.

"Peace." The hopeful message received simultaneously in every country in every language, had been the aliens' only communication ... Until now.

"We're ready to hit them with everything we've got," the Admiral reminded everyone in the room as they took their customary seats. "You give the order, sir, and..."

"And what?" Shore frowned from behind his mahogany desk. "We nuke Disney World off the map?"

"I wonder why they landed there." Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Central Intelligence thinks the aliens were confused," George said. "Some of their analysts suggest the aliens might have mistaken Disney World for the capital."

"And Mickey Mouse is the President?" Henry gave the man a doubtful look.

"They don't have a lot to go on at Langley," the National Security Advisor replied weakly and his usually pale face had flushed at the rebuke.

"None of us do, George," the President sighed, knowing he couldn't blame anyone for the confusion of the past week. Nothing could have prepared them for such an unexpected event.

"The ambassador has arrived at the West Entrance, sir," one of the Secret Service agents reported.

"What's it look like?" Henry wondered, voicing the curiosity of everyone in the room.

"Does it have a name?" Charlie asked no one in particular and there had been much debate over the protocol.

President Shore had wanted to greet the ambassador on the lawn, with all the pomp usually accorded a foreign dignitary. The Secret Service hadn't cared for that idea, however, and neither had his advisors; there would be time enough for ceremony later. For the moment, as soon as the alien craft had landed near the rose garden, the code name for the Oval Office had changed to The Alamo, which wasn't something the President needed to know.

He did know that the Vice-President was safely aloft in a modified 747 and ready to take over the government if he had to. The military stood at DefCon-2, one short step away from war. The National Guard had been called up and martial law declared in a number of cities where rioting had broken out. Television and radio were now operated under direct control of the FCC in accordance with various laws, just as control of all telecommunications capability had been assumed by the Air Force. These and a million other details were only precautionary measures, however, and impacted the average citizen very little.

Most people were content to watch CNN and pray that their government knew what it was doing, a sentiment not lost on the former car dealer from the great state of Arizona. Robert Shore had been doing a lot of praying himself lately.

Several minutes later, after passing through the most rigorous and well camouflaged security systems devised by man, the door to the Oval Office opened. The President rose slowly from his chair while Judy Hoskins, the unflappable Secretary of State, walked briskly into the room. Everyone held their breath, staring as the alien paused in the open doorway for one long heartbeat.

Humanity was not alone.

"Mr. President..." Judy began making formal introductions as the man moved slowly around his desk. From the sofa and over-stuffed chairs, his aides turned their heads and stared with open astonishment.

"President Shore?" The ambassador smiled brightly and the creature's blue eyes sparkled with something like amusement. "Hi! I'm Molly. What a marvelous place!"

"Molly?" Henry blinked and he really shouldn't have said anything just then, but the President barely noticed.

"Madam Ambassador," Shore managed to say, licking his lips as he took in the alien's lithe form beneath its stylish business suit. "Welcome to the White House."

"Thank you!" it replied with a pleasant giggle, tossing a thick mane of blonde hair from one slender shoulder to the other. "Just call me Molly, please."

The alien seemed to strut across the room on long, tanned legs. Stiletto heels sank into the plush carpet and the President noticed his visitor's toenails were painted red like its fingernails. A hint of white lace could be seen as the creature's thighs tugged at the skirt, opening and closing twin slits in the dark material, front and back. The alien's blazer was held closed by two small buttons and the white blouse beneath strained to hold a pair of firm, generous breasts as they moved hypnotically in concert with its deftly rounded hips.

"W-Would you care for some coffee or, um ... tea?" Shore asked, dragging his eyes upward to see an extraterrestrial face that would have been quite comfortable on the cover of Vogue.

"Or me?" the creature asked with another delightful giggle, extending an empty, delicate hand in friendship. "You're cute!"

The Secret Service agents jumped at the gesture and their normally superb reflexes had been dulled, their well-honed instincts slowed by the overwhelming presence of the alien. A sexual presence that none of the men seemed immune to, nor even Ms. Hoskins, for that matter. The distinguished diplomat had turned pink all over and Shore might have noticed had he not been transfixed by his otherworldly guest.

His manhood strained for release, aching the way it hadn't since he'd been a teenage boy back home in Winslow. Shore felt feverish as tiny beads of sweat appeared on his smooth brow. A wonderful knot had formed deep in the man's belly and his knees had grown weak and rubbery. Visions of what he might do with the gorgeous being standing before him filled the President's mind. The smell of female desire fell upon his senses and Shore imagined he could taste the alien's arousal on his tongue, sweet and sultry like the juicy pulp of rare, tropical fruit.

"Oh!" the man gasped as his fingers touched the alien's skin and a flood of hot semen erupted inside his Presidential boxers.

Bra-a-a-a-a-a-p!

A half-dozen nine millimeter slugs tore into the alien before anyone realized what had happened. The nervous agent who'd pulled the trigger dropped his smoking weapon, horrified by what he'd done. Molly's smile faltered and died with her that fateful day, six silent minutes before the aliens declared war on Earth and ended finally and forever what might have been a promising union between two great peoples.

"They wouldn't even talk to her," a tall young woman said quietly. Her recently tanned skin gleamed with cocoa-butter and she fingered the small ruby and onyx crown which pierced her belly-button, feeling the weight of it deep within her empty womb.

"Maybe they were all gay," Captain Heather shrugged, shaking her head sadly at the new asteroid belt slowly trying to form around a rather unexceptional star on the edge of the galaxy. It would take many millions of years, she thought.

"Why would they build temples to their children if they didn't like sex?" Major Allison wondered as she adjusted her thong and that was a good question none of the women could answer.

"Perhaps we should have sent someone more attractive," Colonel Jenny offered and her sublime beauty couldn't mask the woman's disappointment. "I know Molly had brains, but sometimes beauty..."

" ... is what the situation calls for," Princess Wendy nodded, accepting the blame for her decision to send a rather plain looking diplomat on such an important mission.

She would have to change out of her royal blue bikini and wear the black corset and stockings of mourning. Already she'd ordered the imperial flags be flown at half mast for a week. And not just for Molly; it had been such a pretty planet and so many children! The men must have been extremely virile, the scientists had thought, and Wendy couldn't understand why they'd reject peace so carelessly. Hadn't they known how precious life really was in the cold vastness of space?

"Maybe their excess spoiled them," she said. "They had too much life and knew nothing else."

"And we have too little, I fear." Heather drew a deep breath, threatening to free her upturned breasts completely.

"We have to continue the mission." Admiral Lisa combed back her thick, raven hair with one delicate hand. "A million women are counting on us. What's the next planet?"

"Not all the probes have returned, but this one looks promising..." Lieutenant Carol pushed a button and the holographic display changed.

The Princess and her staff had gathered on the flag bridge, huddled around a large chart table as it had been known in antiquity. All the star charts were computerized, of course, and the old sextants and slide rules were decorative rather than practical. The admiral enjoyed such things and traditions were important to a race which had known nothing but the metal of its ships and an endless voyage across a sea of stars.

"Neanderthals?" Wendy flicked at her crown with one long, anxious fingernail.

"Homo sapiens," Carol said quickly, plucking at a tuft of golden hair above her low-cut bikini. It was a nervous habit she actually enjoyed and so the young officer didn't like to trim her pubic hair, despite regulations.

"Bronze age," Lisa noted with a lick of her pouting red lips. "At least they'll be fit."

"Hmmm..." The women shared a smile at the hard working aesthetics to be found in many primitive cultures. A warm bath, a little soap and some scented oils, and...

"We need to breed," Heather said and they all nodded their heads at that. It had been the unofficial slogan for a long time.

"I'll set a course for the fleet," Lisa told her ruler and the Princess lifted a hand in silent assent. The decision had been an easy one to make after recent events.

"It's not your fault," Heather whispered in Wendy's ear.

"I've failed our people," the woman replied softly, searching the beautiful eyes of her closest friend and aide. "Dine with me tonight?"

"Of course," the petite redhead bowed gracefully.

"And bring that new dildo of yours," Wendy allowed herself a smile. "The purple one."

"Oh!" Heather giggled lightly, understanding that her Mistress, guilty or not, required some small punishment to ease her pain.

"Excuse me, Admiral..."

The Princess waited patiently as one of the flagship's many junior officers spoke in hushed, urgent tones. The other women exchanged glances, wondering what this might be about, and Captain Heather took the momentary pause as an opportunity to request a pitcher of iced tea from the wardroom.

"What?" Lisa's smoky eyes widened with surprise as the shapely commander looked past the nervous blonde ensign. "Bring them here. Immediately!"

"What's happened?" Wendy asked and all eyes were on Lisa as she visibly composed herself.

"Princess, it seems we have a ... stowaway," the admiral reported slowly.

"A stowaway?" Carol smiled, looking between Lisa and Wendy. "A stowaway ... What?"

"Man!" Heather gasped, staring at a rather confused, but smiling human male.

Two leather clad security officers escorted him, guiding the man forward gently as they held his biceps. Behind them a pink-faced and freckled crewman looked somewhat less happy as the ensign pushed her onto the flag bridge. The girl, for she couldn't have been very old at all, Wendy thought, wore the pink halter top and matching shorts of a maintenance technician. Around her slim waist, a wide tool belt rode low and heavy with the various implements of her trade.

"Princess Wendy!" The child blinked and immediately lowered her head, but all eyes were on the boy who seemed barely out of childhood himself now that he stood closer.

"Uh ... Hey. What's up?" He smiled nervously and licked his lips, letting his eyes drift from Heather to Lisa to Carol to Jenny to Allison and finally to Wendy. "Wow!"

"Wow?" Captain Heather looked at Colonel Jenny and the woman shrugged. They'd met males before, but never an earthling and every culture had its own unique vernacular.

"You guys are really, uh ... Hot!" he exclaimed. "Jeeze!"

"What's your name, Crewman?" Admiral Lisa demanded without taking her eyes off the young man.

"Me?" he asked.

"Janey..." the strawberry blonde replied softly. She had elfin features and sea green eyes, boyish hips and small, plump breasts that were plainly still trying to grow. Smallish nipples offered a tantalizing treat for the imagination and one couldn't help but notice the way her shorts were pulled tightly between Janey's immature labia.

"Oh." The boy smiled sheepishly from beneath his unkempt black hair. He had nice eyes, Wendy thought, soft and brown and curious, and she liked the way they lingered on her gleaming, well-tanned breasts.

" ... Hull technician third class, Ma'am," Janey continued with a hard swallow. "I didn't mean to do it!"

"What did you do?" Princess Wendy wondered.

"Is that like a window?" the boy asked, staring at the view screen dominating the forward bulkhead. "Holy crap! Are we in space?"

No one bothered to answer him as the crewman kept talking. "I was outside, working on the port wave guide, and I saw Matt watching me and, um..."

"Matt?" Lisa tugged at her necklace. The sapphire pendant shone brilliantly with the star of her rank and it had an annoying tendancy to wedge itself between the admiral's proud breasts.

"Me?" The earthling smiled at the woman, but his eyes were drawn downward as the precious stone caught his attention. At least, that would be Matt's excuse if he happened to need one.

" ... He smiled at me," Janey said with an apologetic smile. "I just wanted to talk to him."

"Contact with another species is prohibited until after we've negotiated with them," Lieutenant Carol said. "You know that."

"Yes Ma'am," she bowed her head. "But he looked so cute and he told me..."

"What did he tell you?" Lisa asked, glancing at Matt and resisting the urge to pinch her suddenly tender nipples. It had been too long since she'd felt a man's eyes on her body and she'd nearly forgotten the subtle pleasure of being desirable.

"He said I'm beautiful," Janey sighed, turning her warm doe eyes on Matt as the boy offered the girl a sincere smile.

"Beautiful?" Jenny smiled and didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings, but only a blind man would have called the crewman that!

"Yeah! You're totally beautiful, Janey," Matt agreed, surprising everyone, and then pointed at the viewer. "Can you get Earth on that thing? I'd really like to check it out."

"You could have jeopardized the entire mission," Major Allison said with a shake of her head and looked at Jenny. "Do you think he had anything to do with Molly?"

"Hmmm..." the Colonel bit her bottom lip pensively. "It's possible they might have thought we were stealing the male, but..."

"Oh crap!" Matt jumped away as something resembling a jagged lightning bolt ripped across the view screen.

The odd lack of thunder confused him even more and he would have lost his balance completely, but Matt's hands managed to find Carol's luscious breasts and squeeze. The boy held on for dear life as the entire ship shuddered and the lieutenant instinctively wrapped her arms around him. For one brief moment they looked into each other's eyes as the throbbing bulge in Matt's trousers rubbed the scantily clad sex nestled between Carol's creamy thighs.

"Security," Lisa said and the two female guards pulled Matt backwards as Carol reluctantly let him go.

"Was that lightning?" He looked around, panting the words as he rubbed his crotch. "In space?"

"Wormholes," Allison explained as she pulled her long hair into a tawny ponytail. "The gravity storm is beginning."

"Alert the fleet," Lisa told Carol. "We could be in for rough ride."

"Aye, Admiral," Carol cleared her throat and straightened her uniform, tugging her bikini back into place as she began issuing the proper orders.

"There's storms in space?" Matt asked no one in particular as he watched Allison's pert breasts jiggle. She seemed to be having difficulty with her hair clip, he thought, but that didn't didn't explain the sexy smile she was giving him.

"You're quite safe," Heather assured the boy, stealing his attention with a promising smile of her own. "The shields will protect us from everything but the turbulence."

"So you guys are used to this stuff," Matt nodded. "That's cool."

"We've seen it before," Heather shrugged, toying with the belly bracelet she wore as a sign of her rank. She collected small fertility charms and trinkets from some of the more primitive cultures and they jingled pleasantly with every move the captain made.

The Princess caught Heather's eye and Matt drew a deep breath as the woman turned away. Her ass looked amazing, he thought, just like the rest of her. The thong Heather wore, a red one, disappeared between her round cheeks and she must have had hips made out of Jell-O! They were all over the place, but in a seriously nice way. Matt wondered if he could ask to use the bathroom just so he could jerk off before he spilled in his pants.

"The solar system is realigning itself," Jenny explained, largely because they had nothing else to talk about.

Admiral Lisa and Lieutenant Carol were busy preparing the fleet for the storm; Princess Wendy and her two aides, Captain Heather and Major Allison, were conferring about the stowaway earthling and what to do with him. That left Colonel Jenny to keep young Matt entertained and the truth was, she liked a good fight and a good fuck, but in between she'd never been very comfortable making small talk with a male.

"Uh, right," Matt nodded slowly. "Why?"

"Because your planet is no longer affecting the orbits of the others," the Colonel shrugged. "You know about the other planets, right?"

"Of course!" Matt said as indignantly as he could in face of what was almost certainly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen anywhere. They were all gorgeous, but Jenny's beauty was just insane and he wondered why she wasn't in charge.

"Just checking," the colonel sighed; one could never assume anything about another culture.

"But ... Wait!" he blinked at her. "What do you mean my planet's not doing ... whatever ... What does that mean?"

Jenny had turned away for the moment, however, and the earthling's answer would have to wait.

"Admiral's Mast," Lisa decided, turning her dark eyes on Janey and stealing Matt's attention for the moment.

"Yes Ma'am," Janey nodded quickly. She'd been waiting patiently for her Admiral the way a humble crewman should.

"Report to my quarters at 2100 tonight for your punishment," Lisa continued. "Dismissed."

"Thank you, Ma'am!" Janey said, bowing to Princess Wendy and giving Matt a wistful smile before fleeing the flag bridge.

"Bye," Matt sighed, giving her a small wave as he felt a warm, comforting fist grip his heart.

He wasn't exactly sure what that meant though, but he liked the feeling and he liked looking at Janey as she scampered away. The boy hoped she wasn't going to be in trouble for sneaking him aboard the spaceship. The girl couldn't have known it would be taking off so suddenly like it had and she'd only been trying to be friendly.

"Nothing too harsh, Lisa," Wendy suggested with a smile, watching the crewman's cute butt wiggle in her pink shorts.

"I have to run tight ship," the admiral shrugged. "Perhaps I'll give her a good tongue lashing."

Everyone smiled at that and Lieutenant Carol blushed sweetly, knowing from recent experience just how effective being chewed out by the curvaceous commanding officer could be. Of course, not everyone got the joke and the young earthman's smile was one born of confusion.

"Where's my planet?" Matt asked, looking from one lovely face to the next in search of an answer. "What were you guys talking about before?"

"We were attacked by your world," Heather said slowly, glancing at Wendy for approval. "Our ambassador was murdered by your President and..."

"Huh?" Matt almost laughed, but his gut felt hollow as the woman continued.

" ... we retaliated in the interest of self-preservation."

"You mean, you guys..."

"Destroyed your planet," Wendy said, her beauty tarnished with unmistakable grief. "You're the only earthling left in the universe. I'm very sorry, Matt."

Another wormhole streaked across the view screen and the ship groaned a split-second later. The inertial dampeners struggled to right the vessel against enormous space-time disruptions. Everyone rocked on their heels and grabbed at each other or held onto the chart table in an effort to keep their balance until the gravitational tidal wave had passed.

"Aw that sucks!" Matt stared at her. "What did you do that for?"

"I just told you," the Princess sighed. "Our ambassador was killed..."

"The President doesn't kill people!" Matt yelled. "He makes speeches! He goes to France! He ... He ... He goes fishing! He doesn't kill anybody!"

"We have a record of Molly's sensory data," Major Allison said quietly. "You can see it if you want, but..."

" ... it isn't pretty," Colonel Jenny finished with a sweep of her auburn hair and the woman's hazel eyes briefly blazed with instinctual fury.

The emotion passed quickly however and she couldn't blame the boy for what a foolish man had done. Matt was as much a victim as anyone, even more so perhaps. Jenny looked away from him and caught the lively eyes of a brunette cabin girl balancing a pitcher of tea and several glasses on a tray. She couldn't have been more than a dozen years old and undeniably cute with rouged nipples and a short, ruffled skirt that barely covered her pert little butt.

"I don't believe this!" Matt held his head with both hands and the women looked at each other nervously.

"Just put it on the table," Jenny said and the girl nodded, blinking at the first boy she'd ever seen in her life and wondering what the creature might be.

"Are you alright?" Allison asked, reaching for Matt with a cautious hand.

She honestly didn't know if the earthling might be dangerous or not, but typical of her race, Allison felt an intense maternal instinct that could often overwhelm common sense. They all felt it, every woman there, and they knew they were most responsible for the teenage boy's suffering. It had been their decision to send Molly, after all.

"Call a doctor," Admiral Lisa ordered.

"Petra," Wendy agreed. "My personal physician. Tell her it's an emergency."

"Yes Ma'am!" Lieutenant Carol said at once.

"What is that?" the cabin girl, Stacy, whispered and Jenny smiled at her.

"When did you ripen?"

"Three days ago, Mother ... I mean, Ma'am," she corrected herself with a sweet blush. "Sorry."

Stacy had only recently left the crèche for the fleet, and such an ironic fate, Jenny sighed. It was considered great good fortune to reach puberty during planetfall, but not this time.

"It's alright," the colonel wrinkled her nose playfully. "That's what a man looks like. Off with you now. Take your gossip back to the wardroom and make sure you get a fair price for it."

"Yes, Ma'am!" the cabin girl nodded quickly, giving Matt one last look over her shoulder. Stacy was ripe for breeding and knew it, feeling the emptiness in her barely pubescent womb like a deep thirst. It would be a lifelong sensation unique to her race and something she'd eventually learn to appreciate as well as endure. The quenching of that thirst, if only briefly, defined her place in the universe.

On the opposite side of the chart table, Princess Wendy conferred quietly with her captain, frowning with worry over the earthling who'd at least seemed to calm slightly after his outburst.

"He probably had parents," Heather whispered and Wendy nodded. "Maybe brothers ... sisters..."

"I know," Wendy replied softly, watching as Major Allison helped the boy into one of the plush chairs mounted to the deck.

There were only two, one chair for the admiral and one for the Princess, and rarely put to use. Naval tradition didn't allow for much sitting down on the job. Matt needed to rest though, that was obvious. He looked pale and sweaty, and his eyes had grown dull with shock. Carol punched buttons on one of the computers, locating Dr. Petra, while Jenny poured a glass of iced tea for the boy.

"How old are you?" Jenny asked softly, holding the glass to his lips.

"Fifteen," Matt replied mechanically after taking a small sip.

"I'm sorry about your family," she said. "We didn't want it to be like this, but..."

"I don't have any family," Matt sighed. "I'm an orphan."

"I understand." Jenny kissed his forehead. "That's good. You're dealing with it."

"No, I mean ... I was an orphan before," he told her. "I never had anybody."

"You didn't?" She frowned and looked towards Wendy.

"What's an orphan?" the Princess asked.

"You don't know what an orphan is?" Matt stared at her.

"I understand the word, but..." Wendy didn't know how to explain that the concept made no sense to her. "Are there a lot of orphans?"

"Not anymore!" The boy smiled crazily and then stopped abruptly, slumping even further in the chair.

"This is bad," Allison sighed. "What should we do?"

"Let me show you something," Heather said, manipulating the holograph controls until one large ship came into focus above the table.

It looked much like a gothic cathedral, one might suppose, but turned on its side. The spires, a great many of them, thrust forward of the craft's generous bulk so that it seemed to have not a single bow, but a dozen or more. It shone with a radiant, golden hue, tinged with red perhaps, as if the metallic skin were a window through which an endless dawn waited patiently to break free.

"What's that?" Matt asked without much interest.

"The crèche," Heather told him proudly. "There are a quarter of a million children on that one ship."

"It's the most precious thing in the universe," Princess Wendy added, smiling at the image and reminding herself to schedule another visit to the vessel soon.

"We have no orphans here," Jenny said. "Our daughters have a million mothers."

"And no fathers," Carol added, but not unhappily. There had never been any fathers, not since Before, which is a word loosely comparable to the biblical phrase 'In the beginning... '

"What's that mean?" Matt looked around at the women. "Daughters? Mothers? Where's all the boys? I haven't seen any boys."

"We can't have male children," Major Allison explained. "We are all the daughters of daughters."

"It's why we came to Earth," Wendy said. "We require a species like yours to impregnate us."

"You guys wanna get pregnant?" Matt smiled as his mind was mercifully distracted, at least for the moment.

"All of us," Heather said with a smile. "We were going to negotiate a trade, technology for the opportunity to breed with your males."

"Really?" Matt grinned at her. "You guys wanna trade stuff for sex?"

"Medical technology mostly," the doctor answered the question as she squeezed between Jenny and her patient. "I'm Dr. Petra."

"You're a doctor?" Matt licked his lips as the platinum blonde knelt gracefully on the deck in front of him. All she'd need were some wings, the boy thought, and she'd be a perfect angel.

She wore a white one-piece bathing suit, a very sheer one that looked painted on, and Petra had dark brown nipples and no pubic hair at all. Matt could tell because the shape and details of the woman's vulva were plain through the skintight material, and with her legs spread like they were, very little remained to burden his adolescent imagination.