The Uncertain Scientist: The Lost Planet Series Book Four

  The Uncertain Scientist

  Copyright © 2019 K Webster & Nicole Blanchard

  Cover Design: IndieSage

  Photo: Shutterstock

  Editor: Emily Lawrence

  Formatting: IndieSage

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  About The Uncertain Scientist

  The Lost Planet Series Note

  Prologue

  1. Grace

  2. Sayer

  3. Grace

  4. Jareth

  5. Grace

  6. Sayer

  7. Grace

  8. Jareth

  9. Grace

  10. Sayer

  11. Grace

  12. Jareth

  13. Grace

  14. Sayer

  15. Grace

  16. Jareth

  Epilogue

  Join The Faction

  Acknowledgments

  About K Webster

  Also by K Webster

  About Nicole Blanchard

  Also by Nicole Blanchard

  About The Uncertain Scientist

  I had everything I ever wanted.

  I was brilliant, successful, esteemed.

  Alone.

  But I didn’t mind. I liked being alone.

  Until they stole me.

  And I wake up, captive, pregnant with an alien baby—and still a virgin.

  For a race of freaks nearing extinction, there seems to be far, far too many of them.

  Everywhere I turn, one of the morts or their human mates wants to comfort me, make me feel welcome and safe. But I don’t want to feel welcome or safe. I want the life they stole from me.

  None of them pay any heed to my angry tirades, least of all the father of the child I carry. There’s no doubt he wants the baby, but that isn’t all he wants.

  In fact, I’m beginning to think if some of the morts had their way I’d never be alone again.

  The Lost Planet Series Note

  In the beginning, there were many who survived the initial blasts of radiation and the resulting catastrophic environmental disturbances. The morts, the only inhabitants of Mortuus, The Lost Planet, ever changed from the effects of the radiation, learned to adapt and, more importantly, to survive. In doing so, they became highly skilled and intelligent, capable of surviving even the worst conditions.

  The planet was dangerous and life wasn’t easy, but the morts had each other and that was all that mattered. They flourished in the protective shell of an abandoned building they converted into living quarters. Morts were given jobs, trained from birth in order to pass knowledge from generation to generation. Eventually, the morts hoped to extend the facility and conquer the wild, untamable outdoors.

  Then, disaster struck.

  The Rades, a disease contracted from complications of the radiation, began to infect increasing numbers of their population. First, there was fever, followed by sores, then finally madness and, inevitably, death. Quarantining the infected helped, but by then it was too late. Women, children, and the elderly, were the first to go. One by one, morts caught The Rades and died. Whole families wiped away.

  Until only ten males remained.

  Salvation came years later when the morts discovered a ship filled with aliens—female aliens. Knowing it was their only chance at survival, they snuck on a passing ship and brought the females home to study—and to breed.

  It was their only chance at survival.

  Four females have been claimed. One remains.

  Prologue

  Sayer

  Everyone is talking all at once and giving me a rekking nog-ache. I would ask Avrell for some ghan-dust tablets, but he’s in a heated discussion with Calix. Both are growling and baring their fangs, seconds from ripping into each other. Calix has his reasons for not wanting to wake the remaining females, which I completely understand, but we also have Willow, Molly’s long lost daughter, to think about.

  They may be the key to unlocking everything.

  “Enough,” Breccan growls, effectively silencing all morts and the two alien females in the room. Even little Sokko, Breccan and Aria’s newborn mortling, grows quiet. The only sound he makes is suckling on his mother’s nipple. “I’ve heard your argument, Calix, and your worry is valid. Emery nearly lost her life when she was pulled from the cryotube.” Aria, Breccan’s mate and the leader of the females, frowns at the reminder.

  Calix wraps a protective arm around his mate. She’s come a long way since then when Aria foolishly yanked her out of cryosleep before she was ready. However, Emery came with health issues. It wasn’t all Aria’s fault. I think he fails to remember that part.

  “But it must be done. We cannot keep those two alien humans the way they are forever. We morts are just, good, and kind. We are not Kevins, which is why we won’t keep them caged and asleep any longer.” He frowns and gives Avrell a nod. “Check their vitals and then wake them. Emery and Calix will assist. Their discovery with the toxica agents could be useful if these aliens also have health issues.” The three of them leave without further argument.

  Then, he points to me. “Sayer, I want you to continue attempting to reach Willow. I’m sure Molly will want to assist, as will Draven. It’s imperative you make contact with her.”

  Of course I will. As our faction’s linguistics specialist, communication and language is my job. If there’s a way to speak to her, I’ll find it. “On it,” I affirm. “Right, Uvie?” I tug my hair out of its knot and it cascades down my front. With a quick twist, I affix it to the top of my head again—like Aria taught me—which is purposeful for keeping it out of my way while I work.

  “Correct,” Uvie chirps from the overhead speakers. “I’m scanning the transmission for locator pings.”

  “The Mayvina is purring like a baby sabrevipe, Brec,” Theron says, bouncing with his usual energy. “You’ve been wanting Hadrian to learn to pilot and we should patrol from the skies. This knocks two items off our list.”

  Breccan grumbles but gives a nod that has Hadrian flinging up his rogstud horns and hooting with excitement.

  Jareth catches my stare from across the table and smirks. He’s been fiddling with his piece of metal for weeks now. A piece that has Draven practically running at the mere sight of it. I lift my brow at him as though to ask, What are you going to do with that thing?

  He rolls it across the table to me and I catch it in the palm of my hand just as it rolls off the table. I shake my head at him. Rekk no. I know what this ring is for and that’s his thing, not mine. My cock is too nice to willingly run a thick metal hoop through the tip of it.

  “Jareth and Oz,” Breccan says, causing Jareth to straighten to attention. “Help Aria make sure the sub-faction is ready for our new aliens. See to it that my mate has what she needs to welcome them properly.”

  He shouts out more orders to the other morts, and soon, we’re off and on our missions. Jareth bumps his shoulder to mine as we walk down th
e corridor, grabbing my attention.

  “You think the last two females will know more than Molly and the other awoken aliens?” he asks, his brows furrowing together. His choppy black hair is wrecked today and I have the urge to help smooth it out some.

  I shrug and let out a sigh. “Not sure. Each alien has known more than the last. If there’s any information they can offer, we could rekking use it. We have to find Willow.”

  Jareth scowls. “So Breccan can force one of us to mate with her too?”

  Screeching to a halt, I poke him in the chest, but the giant mort doesn’t move. “He won’t make anyone do anything they don’t want to do. There are plenty of other morts around here desperate for a chance to mate with one of the alien females.”

  He seems to calm with my reassurance.

  “You never gave me my ring back,” he says, his lips lifting up on one side.

  I pat my pockets and feign confusion. “Must have lost it.”

  “I could pierce you,” he offers, his black eyes gleaming wickedly.

  “You could rekking try,” I growl, giving him a shove.

  He laughs and walks backward, making sure to make horrifying gestures pretending to do said piercing that have me shuddering. “I want my ring back later. Find it, Say.”

  Ignoring him, I storm over to my comms room where Molly sits in Draven’s lap. They’re sitting there tense as can be while they listen to the same transmission over and over again.

  “Anything new?” I ask.

  “No,” Draven grumbles.

  “How many times have you listened to the same transmission?” My eyes dart between them. Molly’s shoulders slump and Draven won’t make eye contact with me. Clearly the entire time I’ve been in my meeting.

  “Fifty-seven times,” Uvie chirps.

  My brows lift and Draven grumbles.

  “Tattletale,” Molly huffs.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “You look exhausted, Molly. Why don’t you let Draven take you back to your quarters and get some rest? I promise I will notify you the moment I know anything.”

  She frowns and opens her mouth like she might argue, but Draven must agree with me because he’s already standing with her in his arms. “Thank you,” she utters a moment before Draven stalks away with her.

  Once the door closes behind them, I relax. It’s difficult to work with them staring at me. I busy myself for the next couple of hours, reading through Uvie’s data on the screen concerning the pings on the transmission as I attempt to triangulate a location. The pings are scattered. At first, it appears to be as though the vessel Willow is on is moving. But then, I realize it’s a mask covering a location. The pings, I quickly uncover, are in a pattern. I tap away on my computer, trying some different calculations to see if anything begins to make sense. Since there are easily thousands of pings, I run a command for Uvie to work through them using my calculations. If there’s a pattern, we’re going to discover it. And then we’ll be able to pinpoint exactly where she is.

  From there, I’m not sure what will happen.

  The door slides open and Jareth rushes in, his chest heaving.

  “What?” I demand, panic rising up inside of me.

  “I don’t know,” he pants. “Avrell said to come get you. It’s an emergency.”

  I’m out of my chair and bounding after him in the next moment. We rush down the corridor, our boots pounding on the floor resounding around us. He whips out his keycard and the door to Avrell’s lab slides open.

  Screaming. All that can be heard is mad, female ranting like she’s got a case of The Rades.

  “—hell no! Hell no, freaks. This is not happening!”

  Jareth comes to a screeching halt just inside the doorway and I bump into him. Peering over his shoulder with my palm pressed to his lower back, I take in the scene. On one table, an alien human remains sleeping despite having been pulled from her cryotube. The other one, though…

  She’s feral.

  Despite wearing one of the medical gowns, she’s anything but weak or sick. This alien is fierce and furious. For being two nogs shorter than Avrell, she points up at him with her filed down claw like it has the power to flay him like a magknife. Avrell’s jaw clenches as he bites back his words.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in,” Emery tries. “But if—”

  “No,” the feral female growls. “I heard this three times already. You want to take me to something called the sub-faction. Everyone is nice. Who cares if they’re big fucking freaks because you all want to have their babies. Yeah, got all that.” She seethes with rage, her long, dark brown hair swishing back and forth with her movement. “The part I’m not getting is how this one”—she pokes Avrell in the chest—“says I’m fucking pregnant!”

  Jareth stiffens. I meet Calix’s stare and his jaw clenches.

  Pregnant?

  “Listen, honey,” Emery starts again.

  “Grace. My name isn’t honey or alien,” she snarls, her words directed at Avrell. “It’s Grace Miller. AND I AM A FUCKING VIRGIN! My name isn’t Mary and this guy here isn’t God! This is not happening!”

  “She’s pregnant,” Jareth mutters, his voice a mixture of fear and awe.

  As though she’s a geostorm chasing the sun from our world, she slowly turns around, darkness burning from her eyes the same color as Jareth’s cock ring. Dark silver. Strong. Piercing.

  Rekk.

  “She is pregnant,” Calix agrees, finding his voice. “And the mortling belongs to you.”

  Jareth freezes and shakes his head in disbelief. But Calix isn’t looking at him. His intense stare is on me. I peel my eyes from his to scan down her body. Her stomach isn’t as big as Emery’s, but it’s swollen. Obviously so.

  Rekk no.

  Rekk no.

  Rekk no.

  “Yeah, you’ve said that,” Grace hisses. “Three times.”

  I wince, realizing I said it out loud.

  She walks our way and her steely eyes burn with fury, melting me with just one look. “You did this to me?”

  I blink at her, understanding her meaning. As though I pushed myself on her while she slept. “I, uh—”

  She smacks me right across the face, the burn from her hard hit shocking me. Jareth growls at her, his sub-bones snapping out of control. Rekking great. Calix makes a grab for Grace’s arm just as I step in front of Jareth, blocking him from attacking her. His chest bumps my back.

  “We ought to toss you in a reform cell,” Jareth bites out at her.

  “Toss him in while you’re at it!” she cries out. “Where I come from, we don’t allow rapists to walk free!”

  “No,” I argue. “We are not Kevins. I would never.”

  “No one physically violated you,” Avrell assures her. “I was the one to inseminate the females.”

  She turns her fury back to him. But as he rattles off all the specifics of what he did, she seems to deflate. Where Jareth and I are unknowing about medicines and biological code, this female seems to understand him clearly.

  “Come on, Grace,” Emery says. “Just us. Let’s go. I’ll take you somewhere so you can eat something and catch your breath. I’m so sorry.”

  This time, Grace seems to see reason. She allows Emery to tug her away. But before she gets past us, Grace stops to narrow her eyes at me.

  “I may have your alien bastard baby inside me, but I’m not a monster. I can feel it kicking.” Her hard eyes seem to flicker with a softness before it’s chased away again by anger. “The poor thing is innocent. But don’t think for one second I’ll let you be some deadbeat dad. If I’m forced into this, you will be too. Got it, freak?”

  All I can do is nod.

  Because what the rekk else am I supposed to do?

  She’s pregnant with my mortling.

  Mine.

  Pride and mortification war back and forth inside me. I’ll allow myself time later to understand what this will mean and how it will impact my life.

  Now is not the time.

/>   Jareth storms out of the lab and I shoot Avrell an apologetic look before trotting after him. It’s not until he’s within his quarters that he lets on what’s going on inside that nog of his.

  The door closes behind me and I slowly approach him.

  “Jareth…”

  He glowers at me, but I don’t miss the hurt glimmering in his black eyes. “These aliens have ruined everything.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “No, they haven’t. They’ve given our people hope.”

  He winces. I soften the blow of my words by tenderly touching his cheek.

  “I can father this mortling, but I won’t ever mate with her,” I vow. “I already have a mate.” Reaching into my pocket, I pull out his cock ring. “And if my mate is done pouting, I’d like for him to show me his cock that’s clearly missing its ring.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth. “I’ll feed myself to a sabrevipe if you willingly bed her,” he says dramatically. “Go to The Eternals without you.”

  I chuckle and grip his cock through his suit. It’s hard and strains against the material. “You’re not going anywhere without me. You’ve been my mate—albeit in secret—for six revolutions, Jare. You think I’m going to give you up now?”

  He lets out a hiss of air when I rub at him more forcefully, his hand that’s always cut from working with metal grasping my wrist. “If they find out—”

  But they won’t. They never do. We’re careful.