Page 1 of Treylon
Chapter One
The party was in full swing, with lots of talking, drinking and dancing. The Intergalactic Dating Agency was going all out with this event. Rosalie Lenox sipped her pink-and-green striped feelgood judiciously and eyed the crowd from her secluded spot at a side table. No luck so far finding the man she was supposed to be dating for this allegedly fun and carefree week on the brand new IDA resort planet.
She glanced at the token in her hand, a glowing blue square with a crown design on it. The Agency had matched up the men and women based on the company’s top secret algorithms but now it was up to the couples to find each other in the crowded venue. She guessed the idea had been to simulate how people might meet naturally—if they were lucky—at a club but so far the search was a nerve wracking bust for her. Her placard had yet to warm up, signaling the date was nearby. And wallflower by nature that she was, having to go up to strange men and ask if they had her matching card was torture.
What had she been thinking to sign up for this?
Well, she’d been thinking she was going nowhere in her dead end job as a waitress at a diner near the main spaceport on Old Earth, she never met anyone but spacers and all her once shiny dreams for a real future had faded and died. Actually make that two jobs plus task work on the side. It took a lot of hustle to make enough credits to live these days. Much less to keep the one thing which raised her spirits even a little bit. Voice lessons were a ridiculous luxury for a woman in her position in life but it was the only thing nurturing her soul.
Glancing over the floor again, she saw more and more couples standing together, looking as if they were having a good time.
I’ll find my guy by process of elimination, she groused to herself. After all the others are paired up. I’m a loser even at this. Of course he doesn’t seem to be trying too hard to find me either.
Not a good omen for the week ahead. IDA promised a hedonistic five days of pampering and adventure at their new, exclusive resort planet. They did not promise you’d find your perfect match or your fated mate or even someone you wanted to see again. Rosalie had laughed at the carefully worded clauses in the lengthy contract but she’d signed up anyway. Of course she had.
What did she have to lose? She’d explored the IDA offerings online before, many times, when her life closed in on her and things got unbearably bleak. The idea of meeting and falling in love with a person from another planet was enticing. Hopefully the person would be from a place closer to the center of things in the Sectors civilization than the ancient home world and leaving her old life behind for a new one wouldn’t cause her a moment of regret. But she couldn’t afford the IDA prices for even one date.
Then the Ardanna joined the Sectors. They were a newly discovered civilization, slightly less advanced than the Sectors and eager to fit in and become full partners. Their leadership had decided one way to accomplish this would be to foster as many Ardannan-human matings as they could, as rapidly as they could. IDA had been a perfect partner for them.
More importantly to Rosalie, because the Ardannans were so set on this course of action, IDA didn’t begin to have enough humans in their databanks. So they issued an open call for human participants and the entire date/resort package was free for qualified applicants. The Ardannans were footing the bill. They seemed to be swimming in credits, probably because their worlds were flush with rare elements and minerals the Sectors craved.
Her flight here to the newly opened resort planet had been exciting and too short in her opinion. She got to know a few of the other girls on the ship and the vacation from her life of drudgery was like a dream come true. Of course she’d have to find new jobs when she got back but Rosalie refused to think about the grim prospect. Maybe she’d meet a man who’d sweep her off her feet and she’d never have to return to Earth.
But not if I don’t locate my match. Resolutely she drained her drink, hoping what the bartender had said about its low alcohol content was true. Tucking her purse under her arm she forced herself to leave her nook and approach a big group clustered at the nearest table. Holding out her token, which she already knew was useless because it hadn’t warmed in the least as she walked up to them, she forced herself to smile. “Hey, anyone here my prince?”
The group laughed good naturedly and made room for her but no one matched her token.
“Actually,” one of the girls said, leaning on her incredibly good looking date, “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that same design tonight.” She went on tiptoe to peer over the crowd. The lights were a lot brighter than they’d be in a real club, but of course the object here was to find each other. “Yeah, over there.” She pointed across the room at another big group. “See the tall guy on the left? He’s got your same sign, I’m sure of it.”
“Thanks.” Rosalie headed across the dance floor, dodging couples moving to the pounding music and walked up to the crowd the woman had indicated. Raising her hand, displaying her token, which she was startled to find was now warming her palm, she said, “I heard I’d find my match over here? Anyone got this same crown thingie?”
She’d been rude, she’d interrupted their conversation and she didn’t care. Rosalie was at the end of her nerves and if the guy was here, she was more than a little upset because he hadn’t been making any effort to search for her. He’d been here all this time with his own friends and their matches.
The man who’d been pointed out to her seemed surprised but he fished in his pants pocket and brought out a tile with the same design, which was glowing. “Oh, right, sorry I got distracted. They did say something about locating the person with the same tile, didn’t they?”
Not a good beginning. He was as handsome as all his fellow Ardannans, tall, muscular and fit, but she was too relieved and annoyed at the same time to take proper notice.
“Give the lady room,” he said to his companions, who immediately shifted positions as if he snapped an order instead of a cheery admonition.
Rosalie stepped into the now empty space next to him. “I’m Rosalie Lenox, from Old Earth,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Treylon. Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’ll have another of those pink-and-green feelgoods, I guess.” A drink would give her something to do with her hands. Now she’d found her date the nerves were attacking her. She felt tongue tied and awkward. He was way out of her league—actually all the Ardannans were tens and she was a seven in her carefully thrifted cocktail dress and shoes. The other women in this crowd clearly had more credits than she did and better skills with makeup applicators as well. Rosalie took a deep breath and threw back her shoulders. She was here, she’d found her match and she was going to derive as much enjoyment as possible from this all expenses paid week. The memories might have to last her the rest of her life of drudgery in low paying jobs since this person was obviously not going to be a match. The famous IDA algorithm had sure screwed up in her case.
As the evening wore on, Rosalie had two more of the sweet tasting drinks. The five men in the group she’d joined were all obviously close friends with her match and there was a lot of good natured joking and talk about past excursions. She got the impression they were in the Ardannan military together. Her date was an extrovert and although he made an effort to include her in the conversation, it was clearly an afterthought. Two of the girls were quite nice and also tried to chat with her but one was a high powered lawyer on Earth and the other was a doctor. The third was a social media influencer who rapidly dismissed Rosalie as anyone of consequence. The other two women basically ignored her but they were all concentrating on their dates. Rosalie couldn’t blame them since the whole purpose of the event was to promote matches for the Ardannans.
Treylon invited her to dance several times but she took one look at the couples gyrating on the floor under the colorful lights and lost her nerve. Since he couldn’t exactly go poach anyone else’s date under these circumstances, he sat with her but was preoccupied with his handheld to the point of rudeness.
“Business,” he said, sensing her displeasure. “I do apologize but even here they track me down.”
“Do what you have to do,” she replied, waving her drink and spilling a good portion of it. Rosalie had basically written him off, handsome and well spoken as he was. The man wasn’t making the slightest effort to get to know her and gave her nothing to work with when she tried a few conversational gambits.
He actually left the table to walk outside for one urgent com and she sat alone, feeling like there must be a spotlight of shame pointing directly at her. Her match didn’t even want to sit and make small talk with her.
When he strolled back inside and made a beeline for their table, he’d tucked the handheld in his pocket and flashed her a panty melting smile as he extended his hand. “They’re playing a slow dance now, we’ll figure it out, I promise.”
Cornered, she took his hand and tried not to stumble in the unfamiliar shoes as he led her to the dance floor. There was a tingle of awareness spreading throughout her body from the point where they touched and she admired his sculpted butt in his close-fitting pants as he walked ahead of her. The man was gorgeous and Rosalie admitted she was turned on, even more so once he took her into his arms and began to lead her in the dance. Swaying in his embrace to the dreamy music, Rosalie felt transported to a much happier place than either her real life or this club. Maybe it was the feelgoods finally kicking in, but she rested her head on his chest and breathed deep of his expensive cologne. All male, with citrus and an unknown spicy note. He might be a jerk but he smelled delicious.
