“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joke, trying to lighten both our moods. For a second, all my old fears about Dominar oppression rose to the surface, which begs the question—why were they ever gone?
He smirks. “I’m serious, Alexis. I didn’t come here to help humans establish a new home. I came here to pick up the pieces when it fell apart.”
Ice spikes through my chest, and I squirm my way out of his grasp. “You expected me to fail?”
“Hey, don’t take it personally. I expected the colony as a whole to fail—not any one human in particular.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you to say. I’m glad you think I won’t be to blame in particular.”
Prust gets up and paces with his hands clasped behind his back. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have offered to help you. I know you see the colony’s fate as a determinant of your own competence and value, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt. I like you, Alexis. That means more to me than the fate of New Earth.”
I stare at him, hands balled into fists. His doubts hurt. His assumption that all my work would amount to nothing is a punch to the gut. Though his affection softens the harsh truth, I’m still boiling.
“If this is an experiment,” I say, trying to keep my voice low and steady, “then let’s test your theory. Stop helping me, and let’s see what happens.”
“Very well,” he says, turning around. “I won’t.”
I leave, holding back my tears until I’m outside. Then I hold them back some more. I’m not going to let him get to me this way. I’ll show him what I can do all on my own.
Chapter Nine
Throughout the next month, I barely see Prust. The colony does just fine. Tim’s leg gets better every day, and we achieve goals almost too fast for me to keep up.
Some of our braver survivalists conduct the universal edibility test on several of Piskiron’s plants and game, opening up sources of food and cutting reliance on our imported supplies. We start carving bows and arrows for hunting, allowing us to conserve ammunition for when we really need it. When the Robertson and West families finish serving their time, we welcome them back with a party.
“We’re all in this together, right?” I say, shaking their hands and clapping their backs. The event is a success, and soon the colony is truly whole again.
Prust is never far from my thoughts, mostly because I want him to see what we’ve accomplished, but I know that’s not the only reason. I wonder if I could spend time with him and not make it about the colony. It seems unlikely.
Nobody ever tells you how lonely it is to be in charge. Everyone wants something—I can’t even get through a meal with my parents without them asking what I’m going to do about the shortage of insect nets, or when we can set up a seniors-only rec center.
“Mom, there’s only seven seniors on the whole planet,” I sigh. “Maybe when we finish the nursery...”
There are a dozen women pregnant already. Turns out people living on a planet with limited entertainment options end up screwing a lot.
“Oh, I can’t wait!” Mom says. “Imagine being the first baby born on the planet!”
I could list for her the litany of concerns that come with pregnancies on an alien world, but I couldn’t be less in the mood.
“We should set up a proper shooting range,” says Dad, bringing over a pot of boiled minna leaf. “Maybe if that Hodges kid could aim, Tim wouldn’t be limping all over the place.”
“Could we talk about something else?” I ask. “Please?”
“Sure, honey,” says Mom, but there’s nothing else to talk about. We just sit there and eat. Or, I try anyway: minna leaf tastes like cabbage, which I’ve never liked. I manage to choke down a few forkfuls, knowing it’s better for the colony to eat what can be grown here, but it’s too bad minna’s not more like romaine.
At least in silence I can get a break. It beats talking about how my AAL coordinators—Steve, Jeanne, and Ed—all want to be officially recognized as my second-in-command, even though their duties are all the same and they’re all equally deserving.
Or maybe they’d rather hear about Wally Buck, who failed to disclose his occasional night terrors, and has since caused a dozen different late night disturbances. I bet if Prust had to wake up and deal with that more than twice, Wally would be on the first available ship back to Earth. There’s just no pleasing everybody. I have to remind myself of that, but it’s not easy to accept.
After dinner, I head out to find Dani washing up in our tent.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, detecting a hint of perfume. “Wait, don’t say it. You have a date...”
She grins, nodding.
“With... Mark the botanist?”
Dani shakes her head.
“Zach from Nashville?”
“No, but you’re getting closer...”
Oh, wow.
“Kentucky Ken?”
Dani blushes and nods. “He asked me out this morning!”
I smile, carried away a bit by Dani’s excitement. It’s not an exaggeration to say that Ken could be the most charming and attractive human on the planet.
“I hope he’s got somewhere nice to take you.”
“Oh, yes,” Dani laughs. “There’s a fantastic stretch of forest. You know the one, next to that other bit of forest?”
“I think so. The one with all the trees?”
“That’s it!”
“Have fun, babe,” I say, watching her put on a scorching ruby lipstick.
I’m happy for her, of course, though I am disappointed not to have any companionship of my own tonight. More important, picturing Kentucky Ken inevitably leads me to think about the only hotter male in this part of space: Prust.
I shouldn’t go to see him, but when has that ever stopped me?
* * *
Knocking on the door to his residence, I take a deep breath. It’s too late to turn back. What if he doesn’t want to see me? But also, what if he does?
“Hi, Alexis,” he says, answering the door with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too, Prust... sir.”
He chuckles, and I have to keep myself from glancing down at his waist.
“I was just sitting down to dinner. Have you eaten?”
The aroma of spicy roasted meat drifts from inside his residence. My stomach rumbles, the stench of minna leaf forgotten.
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” Prust says. “Come on, come in.”
I do, and watch as he retrieves a second dinner plate and utensils. He serves me a healthy helping, stacking thin strips of delicious-looking meat.
“What is that?”
“I believe you named them t-dogs,” replies Prust, popping a piece into his mouth.
My eyes fly open. “You hunted one down?”
“It’s a hobby of mine. I have to keep busy somehow.”
Looking at the meal, I really want to dig in. “I wish Tim hadn’t called them dogs.”
“If it helps, Dominars call them piskars. They’re not canines.”
I spear a piece of meat and give it a try. Tender and smoky, like a good piece of brisket, the meat practically melts in my mouth.
“That’s amazing.”
Prust grins. “Help yourself. I’ve been eating leftovers for days.”
I go for it, enjoying every last bite. “So, do you go hunting often?”
He shrugs. “Depends on what I bag. I only hunt when I run out of fresh meat.”
“Never for sport?” I ask, getting up to pour myself some soek.
“When I was younger, sure. But I’ve hunted the deadliest predators in the galaxy, so there’s not much challenge in it anymore.”
“Nice humblebrag.”
Prust winks. “Well, it’s true. Besides, having a pet is more fun than hunting.”
This time, my warmth aches at the word pet. Wetness gathers between my thighs. Maybe it’s his tone or that I’m in a better mood, but hearin
g it reminds me more of the pleasure and affection than the punishment and humiliation.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, sipping my drink.
“Please do.”
“How long do you plan to live here, among us?”
He rubs his chin. “I’m not sure. Why do you want to know?”
I look up to the top of the dome, searching for what to say. I’ve got a few reasons, but I don’t want to admit them. “I mean, how long will you need to judge the colony a success?” I ask, feeling like a coward. “Like, how will you know when we’ve made it?”
Smiling, he gets up to clear his empty plate. “Are you asking how long it will take to prove me wrong?”
“I guess.”
“It could take years,” he replies. “You could be doing fine for nearly a decade, until your first crop failure. Do you have the ability to survive such a hit to your food supply? Or perhaps your people splinter into factions over a pivotal issue, leading to violent strife. These situations can take a long time to develop. When our scout assessed humanity to determine if we should even invade, he studied Earth for decades.”
His answer ought to give me chills, but I have to fight the smile off my face. It sounds like he’s not going anywhere.
“You won’t get bored?” I ask, my tone a little too playful. “Isn’t that a long time to wait around on a primitive planet?”
Prust shakes his head. “My life spans millennia, Alexis. To me, a few decades doesn’t feel like a very long time. And I admit, it is always fascinating watching a young species attempt an ambitious pursuit. Witnessing it up close is a rare opportunity. Don’t forget, I like humans. I want to see you thrive.”
I bite my lip. “You like us, huh?”
He smirks. “Mostly. Some humans can be very difficult.”
Inside my shoes I feel my toes curl. Prust opens a small jar and takes out a small white pill or candy and pops it in his mouth. I pick up the scent of mint before he crushes it between his teeth.
“Maybe we’re not being difficult, we just see things differently,” I suggest, finishing the last of my dinner.
“Perhaps you see them wrong,” he counters, losing his levity. “That’s why you can’t coexist peacefully.”
I guess this is a sore subject.
“You could be right,” I admit. “But if humans can’t figure out our problems on our own, how can we solve them? What if we just have to learn the hard way?”
Prust pours us both another glass of soek. “If my people thought that was the case, we wouldn’t have invaded. You’re not baby birds, getting pushed from the nest to learn to fly. Humans go to school and listen to their parents for years.” He takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. “We believe you already possess the knowledge and values that will make your species a great civilization, one worthy of permanently joining the Dominar Empire. You just need a good tutor.”
Is he saying that to make me feel better about their invasion? He makes a good point, but how can anything justify taking over a planet that isn’t yours? I know his answer: preventing humanity’s extinction. In fairness, they’ve never wavered from this being their reason. It’s hard to argue they’re not consistent. I’d also be lying if I said I hadn’t benefited from his... tutelage.
“Maybe you’re right,” I admit.
Prust gets up from the table and holds out his hand. “I want to show you something.”
“Sure,” I say.
We walk together to his ship, which he’s kept cloaked from view a good half-mile from his residence. I follow him inside to the cockpit, wondering what he has in mind. In less than a minute, the ship rises off the surface of Piskiron, quickly ascending into space.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I ask, watching through the window as the evening cloud cover dissipates, revealing a brilliant field of stars. My pulse thumps loudly; leaving a planet might be normal for Prust, but I haven’t had thousands of years to get used to it.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going far. I’ll have you back soon,” he assures me, turning the ship around to face the planet and settling into orbit.
“That’s incredible,” I say, staring open-mouthed at Piskiron. Seeing an entire world right before one’s eyes... it’s like experiencing an entire lifetime in a single moment. All of the possibilities, triumphs, and failures present at once—how can one not be awed?
“Do you think it’s beautiful?” Prust asks.
“It is,” I reply. “Though not as nice as Earth.”
He nods. “It used to be.”
A hologram appears in front of us of a planet. Though the continents and oceans are the same as what I see out the window, this version of Piskiron has bluer seas and greener lands—the hologram reminds me much more of Earth.
“This is how your new home looked approximately nine thousand years ago, before its inhabitants ruined it,” Prust explains.
The hologram begins to change: the land turns brown and red, the oceans darken and shrink. Then the image suddenly glows with nearly blinding light. I shield my eyes, wincing; when I look again, dark clouds cover the surface, spreading until the entire world is enveloped. When it finally clears, Piskiron’s been reduced to a smoking cinder.
“You can guess what happened to those living here.”
I nod, a cold shiver passing through my body.
“To make Piskiron habitable we’ve terraformed it, rehabilitated its environment. We sped up a process that would otherwise take millions of years, but it will still be centuries before the world resembles its former self.”
“How did it happen?” I ask, blinking away a tear.
“War. Cataclysmic, all-out, nuclear war. It’s been the great filter for so many young societies. The Piskites didn’t make it. One supreme commander gave the order, the rest retaliated—a handful of people decided the fate of billions. Can you imagine it? Even great civilizations can be frail. I don’t want humanity to end up like the Piskites and countless other races.”
I feel like a teenager taken to visit the county jail for a scared straight lecture: touched, but also a little patronized.
“I get it, Prust.” I sigh, turning away from the hologram. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I acted back on Earth, for the things I said about the Dominars. Being here with you... I know you mean well. You’ve made it clear that you care about humanity, so maybe I misjudged you six years ago. But getting a history lesson, hearing about some long-dead species... it feels so... academic. Like the fall of Rome, or the ancient Mayans. It’s tragic, but it’s hard to connect to a people you never knew, who went extinct long before you were ever born. How are my people supposed to be moved if I’m not?”
Prust rises to his feet, his massive frame looming in front of me. “You’re right.” Grabbing my sides, he lifts me from my seat and slings me over his back. “Let’s make this lesson more immersive.”
Chapter Ten
Shouting and kicking, beating Prust’s back with my fists, I protest being handled so crudely, but my panties feel hot and slick against my skin.
“Holy crap, what are you doing?” I scream.
“Quiet, human,” he replies, carrying me into his ship’s living quarters. He drops me onto a good-sized bunk with a firm beige mattress and thick pillows. I immediately turn over and scramble away, but Prust grabs my knees and pulls me back, then flips me over.
“Hey, this isn’t funny!”
“I wasn’t trying to be,” Prust growls, holding my arms at my sides until a set of telerings float over from a nearby cabinet. I struggle as the devices lock around my wrists, ankles, and neck, immobilizing me completely.
Looking up, I can see Piskiron through the window; I can’t help thinking of how it used to look, back when the entire world burned.
In one move, he pulls down my jeans and panties, exposing my wet, throbbing need. Rage should be boiling my blood; I didn’t come to see Prust tonight for this. I didn’t ask to be once again bound and helpless, at his mercy. Is he completely incapa
ble of just having a conversation? Why does every ‘lesson’ he imparts have to involve me being dominated and used?
Yet, I could protest all day long, but he and I would both know I don’t really mean it. He drags my bottoms all the way to my ankles and leaves them there. Then he slides my body backward until my legs hang off the bed, bending me at the waist. My telerings activate, locking my ankles in place and pulling my arms tight behind my back.
“I want you to keep your eyes on the planet. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I mutter, wrenching against my bonds.
Prust crouches down and gives my ass a firm smack. I yelp, shaking in place. My skin tingles, scorched by his palm. I suppose this will ensure I don’t forget the Piskites, but it’s absurd that my ability to empathize with a long-extinct civilization should depend on my being physically disciplined and humiliated.
He alternates between my cheeks, using one hand to spank them and his other to hold onto my bound wrists. I writhe with each slap, gasping and groaning, the sweet aftertaste of soek on my tongue. Glancing over my shoulder, I look to Prust for any indication of how long he plans to punish me. He keeps his expression blank, his gorgeous lips pressed flat. I know he’s enjoying this, but he hides it well.
After the first few swats to my bottom, just as I’m growing used to his rhythm, Prust tricks me. Expecting the spanking to continue, I react with a wince, even though he doesn’t make contact.
“Was that one too hard?” he taunts, rubbing the spot I thought he’d slap.
“Ha. Ha,” I mutter, jerking against my restraints. My face radiates heat as I try to swallow my embarrassment. More and more I’m finding I can take the physical pain of getting spanked, but the frustration is what really stings. Why does he have to make this worse by making fun of my instinctive reaction? How is that fair?
“Where’s your mind at, Alexis? Are you fully here in the moment with me?” Prust asks, tracing a finger up my back.
“Yes, sir,” I say with a sniff.
His Human Subject Page 7