Cupid's Kiss

“Eureka, I’ve got it!”

Jarf jerked at the sudden shriek, his fingers tripping over the keyboard. He frowned, deleting the gibberish that interfered with his code before glaring at his coworker.

“The formula!” Schmel grinned, raising a triumphant fist in the air. Enclosed in his hand, a yellow liquid sloshed in a vial. “After all this time, I have found the key to our success and our enemies downfall! I will be hailed a hero for all eternity! Songs will be sung of my great--”

Jarf rolled his eyes and quickly interrupted, “Very good. Now, if you could put on some clothes? And maybe, you know, inform the commander?” Turning back to his computer console he brought up a new window and tapped out a quick email.

The phoenix is in the coop

He smirked as he sent the message, sneered as Schmel pulled on a pair of pants and rushed from the room, and outright snickered as he walked into the war room to discuss the next step in the Master Plan.

Jarf’s eyes glazed over during the brief. Same old story, told a thousand times, of how the Rhythmonions had betrayed the peace treaty and were not only stealing land and precious resources, but had also lured all the females to their territory with their siren songs. Well, almost all of the females. Jarf darted a glance to their curvy commander, Zarbina.

“With this bioweapon, we will bring the Rhythmonions to their knees…” Schmel was gushing.

Jarf allowed his thoughts to wander until they swirled and settled again on Zarbina. The one and only Amortian that had ever caused him to develop fond, unrequited emotions and distracted him from his work, his food, his sleep. He frowned, watching her sign questions to Schmel, mesmerized by the way she intently focused on his lips, leaning close to better read his words. Jarf crossed his arms over his chest and snorted. After all this time Schmel had never bothered to learn sign and Zarbina had never bothered to notice how adept Jarf had become with the language.

“...pheromones, you see,” Schmel’s words invaded and burrowed into Jarf’s brain like little worms. “Once introduced into the Rhythmonions territory it will permanently alter their molecular structure. The males will turn against each other in a rage, the women will fall into a passion-induced trance, and our soldiers can lead our females back home, thus ensuring the survival of our species!”

Zarbina was frowning. Jarf found himself drawn into the beauty of that downward tilt of the lips. He took a step closer, longing to bask in her presence. Zarbina’s hands were flying and an interpreter was translating for the stupid Schmel.

“Antidote?” Schmel laughed. “Of course there’s an antidote. We couldn’t very well go infecting ourselves now, can we? We have a man on that aspect.” He waved an unconcerned hand.

Jarf’s fists clenched at the haughty tone but Zarbina only smiled and nodded. Jarf relaxed, admiring the strength she must possess to refrain from punching such an insolent fool into the next room. He placed a hand on his heart, his beat picking up speed as another of her wonderful attributes carved itself into his very soul.

A ripple of surprise rolled across the room as the secure, steel door flew open and a troop of soldiers, clad in red and wearing rose-colored glasses, flooded the war room.

“You’re late!” Jarf snapped, breaking the stunned silence. “Do you know how difficult it was to get the key code to you? Another hour and it would have changed!”

He turned at the gasp from Zarbina, realizing he had not only spoken his reprimand but signed it as well. A burst of pride swelled as the love of his life focused her full attention on his fingers.

“Rhythmonions! What have you done?” Zarbina asked, her hands shaky and slow.

“Made myself into a god, of course,” Jarf signed with a shrug. Reaching out a hand, he tucked a loose, dark strand of her hair behind her perfect ear. Her flinch caused his gut to clench but he ignored the feeling as he had long since learned to do, stepped closer to Schmel, and plucked the precious vial from his fingers.

“Be careful with that! We haven’t had the antidote yet!” Schmel shrieked.

“You haven’t,” Jarf said quietly. “But I will.” With perfected flourish, Jarf yanked a syringe from the pocket of his white lab coat. “Look at that,” Jarf murmured. “One dose. A pity the rest were destroyed.”

The look of horror on Schmel’s face was icing on the cake of betrayal. He laughed and the Rhythmonion hoard laughed with him until Jarf jabbed the syringe into his bicep and heaved the vial of pheromones onto the cement floor in one swift move. The sickly sweet scent of roses inundated the room.

“Wait a minute,” a Rhythmonion grunted, yanking off his pink shades and pointing them at Jarf. “One dose? But you said--”

“Your kind ain’t too swift, are they?” Jarf rolled his eyes. “I’m double-crossing you. Duh. You provided a great distraction and when this bioweapon gets back to your territory and,” Jarf narrowed his eyes, “Rest assured it will get there, then I will control this entire world and all the females in it. With, of course, the aid of my glorious queen.” He held out a hand to Zarbina, pleased as her soft palm slipped into his own. Her eyes, once a mysterious green, had transformed into a lovely, cheerful yellow.

If Jarf had any doubt of the pheromones potency they were fully removed as Schmel suddenly launched himself at a fellow Amortian scientist, lashing out at the other man’s face with clawed fingers and drawing streaks of blood.

The world seemed to slow as Jarf calmly stood, holding Zarbina’s hand. The men around them crashed into each other, biting, stabbing, punching, and smashing in a splendid dance of death. Blood poured to the floor as, one by one, that precious life source leached from each man and they fell, defeated. The last bleeding Rhythmonion hissed at Jarf before lurching out the door, the flowery fragrance following his steps.

Jarf kissed Zarbina’s palm. He allowed the wings on his back to unfurl in triumph as he encircled Zarbina’s waist with one arm. He had waited so long to see the passion that now glowed in her eyes, he almost fell under the weight of her love.

“Come, beloved, read my lips,” Jarf whispered, leaning forward to kiss the mouth he had dreamed of for years. “Come and taste Cupid’s kiss.”






Interesting Tidbits ▼

In Latin, the word Cupid is Amor. Thus, we have the race of Amortians.

Written for

FORUM

The Science Fiction Short Story Contest  (18+) A contest inspired by the serious need for more good sci-fi #2140378 by BlackAdder

Prompt: Chemical Attraction! Love can be bright, beautiful, and authentic - but can it be manufactured?