QSFer E.J. LeRoy has a new Mpreg sci-fi book out (Ace): Pleading His Belly on Zakon-4.
Catholic. Alien. Mpreg.
Henry Trevalu is the sole heir to the Trevalu Intergalactic Spice Company, and he’s in trouble. During a routine spice delivery to the planet Zakon-4, Henry is sentenced to death for transporting poppy seeds, which were made illegal the day before his arrival. Apparently, the Zakonians weren’t kidding when they said they have a “zero tolerance policy” on illegal drugs.
Henry’s prayers for deliverance are met in an unexpected fashion: pregnancy is the only way to escape a death sentence on Zakon-4, and his hermaphroditic Uhumbra cellmate is willing to get the job done.
A Note on Content Our main character, Henry, is a devout Catholic and his faith plays a major role in this story. Additionally, this story contains the following content: Imprisonment, Forced nudity, Alien sexual content, Dubious consent, Male pregnancy, Religious guilt.
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Excerpt
“Henry Trevalu, you are under arrest for transporting illicit drugs to Zakon-4 with intent to distribute.”
I blinked, staring at the Zakonian customs officer. He may have technically been humanoid, but it didn’t ease my nerves any that his scaly red, yellow, and black skin resembled a venomous coral snake. His sharp teeth weren’t reassuring either. “I’m sorry … what?”
The customs officer read from his tablet. “Henry Trevalu, upon entering port you have declared yourself to be the sole proprietor of the cargo ship Neon Durango and fifty percent owner of Trevalu Intergalactic Spice Company. Do you deny this?”
My breaths grew short. It was too late to deny anything considering the Zakon-4 Port and Customs Department already had my identification on file along with my previous verbal affirmation and customs documents. I swallowed, forcing myself to stay levelheaded enough to make sense of this absurd declaration of arrest. Thus far, no one had put handcuffs on me or looked about ready to. Keeping my mouth shut might prevent that from happening. Ignoring my silence, the customs officer spoke in a calm, unsettling tone as he continued to read from his tablet.
“According to your own ship’s manifest, you are carrying vast quantities of illegal narcotics. For this reason, you are under arrest.”
You would think that telling a guy he was under arrest for the second time would trigger klaxons, station-wide panic, and umpteen guards charging the checkpoint with guns drawn. In fact, the Zakon-4 PCD boasted no more chaos than usual. Merchants and vacationers from all over the galaxy shoved their way through long lines, emitting a cacophony of languages and generating heat. The stuffiness of the overcrowded building really made me regret wearing sweats. According to Professor Prendergast’s Intergalactic Travel Guide, Fifth Edition, this was supposed to be Zakon-4’s cold season. But the combination of thousands of people squeezed into an undersized space and my rapidly increasing heart rate created a sweltering atmosphere.
“I’m not transporting any narcotics,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “You said you read my ship’s manifest, right? Neon Durango is a cargo ship for spices, not drugs. You know, lotiki, momiti, hathgaar, coriander, cinnamon, those kinds of things.”
“And poppy seeds?”
I wiped the perspiration off of my forehead with the back of my hand. “Yes, of course, poppy seeds. They’re a popular spice all over the galaxy. Well, they’re a fruit, actually, but I don’t want to argue about semantics.” Certainly not when I’m being accused of transporting narcotics to a planet with a “zero tolerance drug policy.” “Look, officer, maybe somebody framed me by hiding drugs in my cargo. It’s a big port. Things like that can happen, right?”
“You have not been falsely accused. As of yesterday, poppy seeds are classified as a hard drug on Zakon-4.”
“That’s … that’s impossible.” My heart lodged itself in my throat, threatening to choke me. Didn’t Professor Prendergast’s Intergalactic Travel Guide state that Zakon-4’s anti-drug laws were some of the harshest in the galaxy? If the custom officer’s statement was true, I was looking at a literal death sentence!
“It is not impossible.” The customs officer’s voice conveyed no emotion. “It is the law as of yesterday.”
“But there’s no way I could have known that en route.” I forced myself to take a deep breath before passing out. An abundance of perspiration running down my back made my sweats cling to my skin. If I didn’t find a way to talk myself out of this, I would be playing a starring role in one of those alien prison dramas I watched during the flight – for real. “What if I just return to my ship and dispose of the poppy seeds before attempting reentry to Zakon-4?”
“Ignorance of our laws is not a valid defense. And you have already entered our port with the poppy seeds among your cargo.”
Thoughts failed me, leaving me to sputter. “But … but …”
The customs officer subtly moved his hand under his desk, like he was pushing an alert button. My chest and stomach clenched. Instinctively, I looked for an escape route. Maybe if I disappeared in the crowd, I could sneak back to Neon Durango and get off this vile planet.
Please, God, I prayed, give me an exit. I don’t want to be killed for a technicality.
Author Bio
E.J. LeRoy is a Pushcart Prize nominated writer and poet whose work has appeared in several publications including Adventures Bookzine, Horrific Scribes, Neon Dystopia, NonBinary Review, and Permanent Flux.
| Author Website | https://ejleroy.weebly.com/ |
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