Alien Scrooge - Zara Zenia Page 0,50

red tongue out of its snarly little mouth. Its eyes narrowed with curiosity and it cocked its head to the side.

Lifiya seemed to tense nervously and reached out before stopping herself. “It’s our only model so far, though we will have the others completed soon.” Her voice was raspy and squeaky at the same time. She eyed the lizard with weary caution as she spoke.

“And? What does it do?” Rawklix asked, still looking bored and impatient. He rolled his eyes and let out a deliberately large and long-winded sigh, leaning back in his chair.

“It scans the genetic markers and biocomposition of an organism to identify compatibility between two specimens. A device will be created for each of Your Highnesses and programmed to each of your unique genetic configurations. Once formatted, the scanner can accurately detect the reproductive compatibility of any specimen surveyed and identify the individual whose markers offer optimal genetic potential for the production of viable progeny, your perfect match.”

“In other words, my brothers, meet our new matchmakers. There will be no more delay in acquiring a bride for any of us,” I said solemnly, feeling the weight of the matter acutely myself. My emotions on the subject were still floating up in the air and up for debate.

A hush fell over the room as the moment sank in. It was true. We were each of us well-acquainted with our mission. The future of our race depended upon our success in locating human mates, who were, incredibly, immune to the virus which had devastated our race, and producing virally resistant offspring. We were out of resources, out of options.

“And what qualifies as a ‘perfect match’?” Darbnix inquired, popping the knuckles of his large dark hands, an expression of concern crossing his face. He frowned skeptically. The watch lizard on his arm had returned to its post at his shoulder, tensing nervously as it mimicked the apprehension of its master. Its huge glassy eyes harbored slits for pupils that dilated when the creature engaged in anxiety of any kind.

Lifiya chewed her lip for a moment before continuing. Perhaps it might have been a nervous habit. Perhaps it was the pressure of promoting the device.

“What we have concerned ourselves with in this endeavor was genetic compatibility—locating an individual with whom you’ll have the most success in producing healthy offspring. I understand that there are other factors involved in the mating process . . .” She trailed off as she assessed the response and reaction of the assembly in front of her.

Darbnix gave a humorless laugh that was laced with palpable cynical flair.

“However, such matters are certainly not the province of science,” she finished. I noticed how her throat moved as she took a hard swallow.

“So, you’re saying that this trifling gadget” —Rawklix gestured at the scanner, which was now on the glass-like surface of the table before us— “could match us with a warty, bearded pit-dweller and we’ll have no choice but to bed them?”

The unease rolled through each of my brothers at the notion that their choice of future bride was now left so blindly to science. The scenario didn’t sit well with any of us, and I mentally stewed in my seat, stoically adhering to serenity. I wanted to fully understand the device and how it worked before I made any knee-jerk conclusions.

Suddenly, Darbnix let loose a loud laugh, the force of it sending his lizard scrambling up to perch in Darbnix’s short brown hair. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, boy. As wet behind the ears as you are, Rawklix, you should be happy for any woman who will take you.” It was common for him to playfully tease his brother in a patronizing way.

“Perhaps I should stick to animals then, like you, Darbnix?” Rawklix sneered. He was always easily defensive. Quippy retorts came naturally to him, and I found them at the very least amusing as long as I wasn’t the one facing the backlash.

Darbnix barely registered the insult, but the little lizard on his arm shimmered to a brilliant fiery red and launched itself at Rawklix, hissing and biting as he struggled to shake free of it. The little creature was feisty and animated as it enthusiastically thrashed on top of Rawklix.

“Argh! Call off your vile little worm!” Rawklix shouted, spitting as his hair became askew and disheveled in the struggle. His cheeks burned bright red with fresh fury.

Laughing, Darbnix reached out and grabbed the lizard by the tail. “Come, Vigo, let the boy and his wounded