“You don’t sound grossed out.”
“Nah. It was fascinating. Gore doesn’t bother me. I wanted to be a doctor, before my parents–” She sighs. “Never mind.”
We can’t keep reaching this point with her pulling away. Soon, we’re gonna have to talk about the deeper stuff.
“There’s something else.”
I shift so I can see her face without changing position. “That sounds ominous.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She chews her lip. “Do you feel… I don’t know. Stronger?”
“If you remember, I asked that question awhile back and all you did was tease me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, though.”
I flex my bicep, shifting her head. “Seriously I don’t know. Do I?”
“Oh, come on. Do you?”
“Come to think of it…” When I recovered some strength in the tunnel a part of me wondered how the fuck I’d done it. I lost two arms, what felt like half my blood, and most of my sanity. Somehow, I wasn’t dead. “Yeah. Back there…”
“Yeah. When I fought the statues, when I dragged you to the door…” She raises an arm, holds it above our heads. “Sam, I’ve never been what you’d call an ‘outdoor girl.’ Never lifted much more than my laptop. I jogged, when my mother would let me, but that was about it.” She sighs. “How did I do all that?”
“Adrenaline? I’ve heard of people are capable of heroic strength when they’re pumped. You know, saving trapped cars from burning children, stuff like that.”
She laughs. “Maybe. But… Even now, I feel… Good. Better than I ever have.”
“I do too. I mean, I feel like shit. But beyond that… I think you’re right.”
Mika’s voice is quiet. “Sam, what’s happening to us?”
I pull her tighter. “I don’t know. Up to this point in my life, I wouldn’t have believe that any of this was possible. If someone had told me that I’d be reincarnated after death with a beautiful woman in some gamer’s wet dream, I’d have laughed and suggested rehab. Now?” I shrug. “Who the hell knows?”
“I know. Just… I’m scared. But like I said… I love this.”
“Me too.”
“And don’t think I missed the ‘beautiful’ part you worked in there. Snake in the grass.”
“You like that?”
I can feel her smile against my ear. “Yeah. I really did.”
I lay for long seconds, enjoying her, and the feeling of my body knitting back together. “How long was I out?”
“Maybe six hours? Not sure, it’s hard to keep track in this place when the clock isn’t running. No windows. It’s weird, though. I’m not hungry.”
“I haven’t eaten since… Man. Like twelve hours before I died. But I’m good, too. Still, just in case, they can’t throw a pack of peanuts in here? A few apples just in case?”
Mika tsks. “What kind of futuristic dystopian wasteland facility are they running here?”
“I know, right? Amateurs.”
We laugh together, and it feels fucking good. To be alive, to be free of pain. To be with her.
CONVALESCENCE COMPLETE. INITIATING ROOM TIMER
00:10:00
I stir, but Mika pushes me back. “Not yet. Whatever’s coming… We have a few minutes. I don’t want this to… Just… Not yet.”
I turn, wrap her in my arms. We’re forehead to forehead, close enough that her breath feathers my lips. I want to kiss her, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, I think, but something holds me back. I don’t know what.
Mika’s fingers till my hair. Somehow, she still smells like roses. Her breath is a stopwatch, ticking away our time until the next hell we’ll face, but for now… Nothing on Heaven or Earth could move me.
“You talk in your sleep. Like, a lot. Did you know that?”
“No one’s ever told me.” Then again, I haven’t ever had a night like this one with someone before. “Why?”
“Do you always talk about girls in your sleep?”
I still, worry worming its way through my gut. Who did I mention? Amy? The breakup is still fresh, but Mika’s been like a warm bath, washing the filth of dysfunction away. One of my old Instagram girlfriends? Maybe Jen? Nah. I don’t think about them these days.
Mika’s breath is low, waiting. I have to answer. “I don’t think I do, normally. Why?”
“You talked a lot about one girl.”
“Oh?”
She melts further into me. She’s so close I can feel her heartbeat through my shirt. “Me. You talked about… Me.” She sighs. A sigh I don’t think I’ve ever heard before from a woman I was involved with.
I smile. “You are pretty memorable.”
“Most of it was hard to understand. Some of it was… Well, I won’t repeat it. But all of it was pretty great.”
FIVE MINUTE WARNING
“Mika, I…”
“Shh. Not now. Let’s survive the next room. Find a quiet place.” Her lips brush mine as she speaks, her touch feather soft. So close.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Why not? She’s beautiful, this is all crazy, and who knows what the hell is waiting ahead?
“Then let’s make it through the next test.”
We untangle. Mika stretches, winches, waves around the arm that rested under me. “Ah, shit. Arm’s asleep!”
“Raise it above your head!”
“What?” she laughs. “How is that supposed to help?”
“I don’t know. Old coworker swore by it.”
“Did you ever try it?”
“Are you kidding? Dude was a drunk.”
Her giggles are wonderful, at odds with this horrible place and somehow defying it. “Great. Thanks,” she says, whacking me with her sleeping arm. “Ah, ow!”
“Karma,” I say, grinning. I duck another whack, backing up. “Seriously! Have you already explored the room?”
She ducks her head, sheepish. “No. I should have. I didn’t want to leave you.” She bites her lip, cheeks dark. “This will sound stupid, but after what happened, where we are… I felt like, if I took my hand from you, even for a second… you’d disappear. Like a dream.”
“I felt you. Knew you were there.”
“Good.” She laughs softly. “Good. Anyway. Yeah, I don’t know where we are, or if this place has any tricks. I’m a shitty explorer.”
“Nah. You just know that taking care of the leader is the most important part of any journey.”
“Leader!” She cuts me a dangerous glare as her hands run along the walls. “Who elected you leader? I’m the one who can see the magic writing.”
“Hey, having a genetic mutation doesn’t make you good leadership material.”
“Ooh, just you wait. Next time we get to a room with a booby trap, maybe I can read the safest path, and maybe not.”
“Touché,” I say, hands raised in surrender. “Anything?”
Mika steps back, hands on hips, and frowns. “Nothing. No glowing symbols. No hatch. Nothing at all.”
“Maybe we already have everything we need?”
ONE MINUTE WARNING
“I sure hope so.”
I step up next to her, hand to her shoulder. She fits herself against me. “No more severed limbs this time.”
“From either of us.”
We press hands to the plate and step through.
10
Respite Area 1
Aspirant #2239
Room Timer: 12:00:00
I bring my rifle up, and Mika’s staff blazes as we step into the next room. I’m ready for whatever shit this place throws at us next. I hope. Burning demons? Swinging blades or spike pits? Super soldiers? After everything we’ve been through, I think we can handle it, be ready for anything. And I expect it all.
Instead we get… paradise.
“What…?” Mika’s breathless gasp is a mirror to my astonishment.
The room resembles nothing more than the kind of multimillion-dollar hotel rooms you
see in movies or glamour magazines. The sort where you say someday, when I’m rich , and know it’s bullshit. You’ll never get there. Not in a million years.
But here we are.
The room is the same austere white as the rest of the complex, but it’s muted with dashes of color along the walls and ceiling; multicolored lights radiating moody ambers and cerulean, sashes of every color in the rainbow adorning the walls, and exotic plants with impossible rainbow flowers in vases on almost every surface.
And there are a lot of surfaces. Tables, chairs, and beds are scattered with some sort of Feng Shui fuckery I don’t understand but am immediately soothed by. They look like something out of Star Trek, all gentle curves hewn of ivory or some other precious stone.
At the center of the room is a sunken area. Several tiers descend, and in the middle is a hot tub the size of a small swimming pool. It burbles and pops, inviting, and next to it is a small bar with labeless bottles and piles of fluffy towels. The bottles have the unmistakable shape of liquor bottles, but they’re not what make my mouth water.
Along one wall is a gigantic trellis table, and its entire surface is covered in –
“Food!” Mika squeals, taking an involuntary step forward. She looks at me sheepishly. “I mean, ahem. There is food present. How delightful.”
“Haha.” I can’t fault her enthusiasm. Plate after plate adorned with everything from steak to fruit to steaming bread is stacked high. Bottles of everything from clear water to more liquor dot the back, spaced between fried chicken and pizza and little tea sandwiches. It scents the room deliciously, and my mouth waters. It’s like the old cartoons, where the food smells so good that a hand of scent lifts you along, drags you toward it. I have to restrain myself from being pulled toward it with almost gravitational force.
The last noteworthy thing are the windows. Another wall, opposite the food, is occupied entirely by a bank of floor to ceiling windows that are so clear it’s like they’re not there at all. And beyond them?
The universe. I’ll have to get closer to really see what’s beyond them, but from just beyond the doorway I can make out stars, little points extending forever, perfectly clear.
Are we in space? Or is this another illusion?
I’d bet on anything at this point.
Mika takes another hesitant step forward, toward the food, but I stop her with a hand to her shoulder. “Wait. We should look around, first. Just, make sure it’s safe.”
She gives me the most pathetic look. “But… It looks so good .”
“For all we know it’s poisoned or made of radioactive rock or something! Maybe it’ll turn us into toads!” My stomach growls, punctuating my words. Traitor.
She sighs. “Fine. Let’s stick together, though.”
“Absolutely.” We weave between soft chairs and enough flowers to fill a thousand gardens. The room is absolutely still, silent aside from the bubbling water, and the smell of the food and flowers mix into a heady aroma that tears at my resilience.
But there must be a catch. Every room between the convalescence fields has tried to kill us somehow, and I can’t trust that this is different. “Anything on the walls?”
“Nothing,” Mika says, almost impatient. She turns, tugging at my hands, pulling me toward the tables. Her eyes are hooded, and her teeth worry her full lip in a way that sets my heart racing. “Come on, Sam. This place has helped us as much as it’s fought us. Maybe this is a reward.”
“Or maybe it’s another test,” I say, but my resolve wavers. “I’m not trying to be a killjoy. I just want to be careful.” I stare into her dark eyes, steel myself against the temptation around us. And the temptation that is her.
“No, you’re right,” she says, breathing deep. “After that last test… You’re right.”
We take a long circuit around the room, examining everything. The flowers are delicate, tensile, perfect, even if none of them exist on earth. The hot tub looks benign and ridiculously inviting, and I grit my teeth as I dip a finger in, expecting acid or invisible lava or something. Instead, it’s perfectly heated, ordinary water, as far as I can tell.
The food table is the worst, though. Fat purple grapes glisten in the low light, moistened by some invisible hand before we arrived. Or magicked into existence? I have no idea. Exotic rice dishes, sushi, even french fries; it’s like every food I’ve ever eaten and loved, and some I’ve never seen before, lay before me. “Pizza,” I say, mouth watering. Thick crust, perfect cheese, pepperoni… “I’m about to lose it.”
“Oyakodon,” Mika says, and she sounds a little nervous. “What are the chances, Sam? Our favorite foods. Specific, unusual foods…”
Alarm bells ring in my mind. “You’re right. This is… too perfect. I don’t trust it.”
“I assure you that the Respite Chamber is perfectly safe. It’s tailored to suit your every desire.”
The voice comes from behind us, lilting and feminine. We spin, weapons coming up as she descends the steps from the bank of windows.
Silhouetted against the backdrop of stars, a delicate figure of liquid silver slowly walks toward us, one hand upraised. Her figure is unmistakably feminine, with small, tight breasts and gentle curves to her hips and legs. Which is good, because she has no face, no clothes, no nipples or hair, or any defining features at all. She looks like the liquid metal Terminator.
I raise my rifle higher, aiming right at her. If she asks for John Connor, I’m not asking questions. “Who are you?”
Mika stays just behind me, and the glowing ember at Inferno’s tip shines in my peripheral vision, comforting. “Stay back!” she shouts, and there’s a firmness, a confidence to her command I know she couldn’t have mustered a few hours ago.
The figure pauses, then flicks out a delicate spun-metal finger. “No need for that,” she says.
Instantly, my rifle powers down, and its hum quiets until it’s utterly silent. Inferno’s gem banks, dims, and dies, slowly sinking back to the staff’s tip.
“That’s better,” she says. “Please, do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm.”
I push Mika further behind me, backing away a step. “No offense intended, ma’am, but that’s a bit hard to believe.”
“Waking up in a strange place and almost dying a half dozen times tends to build a mighty strong distrust in you,” Mika says.
“Perfectly understandable.” The figure halts a dozen steps away. “As such, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Astra. I am what you would call an artificial intelligence, and I tend to those who find themselves in the Citadel.”
“Astra,” Mika says, stepping out from behind me. “That’s a lovely name.”
Astra is silent a moment, and if her face had expression, I’d think she was blinking in surprise. “Why, thank you,” she finally says. “I believe that is the first time an aspirant has ever paid me a compliment.”
“Aspirant?” Mika and I say together.
“Indeed,” Astra says. “Sam Warner, Aspirant number two two three nine. Mika Toriyama, aspirant number two two four one. Cycle seven hundred and forty-two of The Citadel.”
Aspirant. It sounds decidedly ominous to me. “Sounds almost like we’re contestants in some game.”
Astra’s head cocks, a disturbingly human gesture in someone who doesn’t have a face. “Indeed. I’m not permitted to give you full details at this time, but a contest is an excellent way to think of this.”
“But why?” Mika says, voice haggard. “Why bring us here, put us through this? For a contest? What are the stakes? What do we win?”
Astra’s voice is quiet, almost sad. “The stakes and the prize are the same: your lives.”
We’re all quiet for a long time. Mika’s fingers lace with mine, squeeze tight. Astra stands perfectly still, watching, expressionless.
“Astra,” I say, trying to get control of my rampaging thoughts and worries, “why exactly are we here?”
“I am not permitted to tell you that at the moment.”
&
nbsp; “Did you build this place? Bring us here?”
“I am not permitted to tell you that at the moment.”
“By who? Who’s in charge of all this?”
“I am not permitted–”
“I know, I know.” I hiss in frustration.
“Astra,” Mika says, taking a step forward with one hand raised in placation, “what can you tell us?”
“For now, very little. Just know that this chamber is safe. You have earned respite, earned your reward. You have twelve hours to rest, eat, and bathe. Sleep is not necessary on the Citadel; the convalescence fields remove the need. You will never need food or water, though you may partake of them if you wish. Pleasures such as tobacco, recreational drugs, and alcohol are on the table, and the effects of them are removed when you leave this room.”
That’s handy. “That reminds me. Maybe you can answer us something else. Those fields… They repair us after the… Tests. But our bodies…”
“Yes,” Astra says. “You will have noticed the upgrades. Each field you reach strengthens you, increases your endurance, your tolerance for pain and injury. As the tests increase in difficulty and danger, so does your ability to endure them.”
Mika grins. “Told you we were levelling up,” she whispers.
“An apt comparison,” Astra says.
We stand for a few moments, silent. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t think we’ll get anything else useful out of Astra right now, but I feel like I should ask something else. Mika stays near, her hand laced in mine.
Astra takes another hesitant step forward. “Your heart rates and vital statistics indicate agitation, worry. Please, believe me when I say that I mean you no harm.”
“I believe you, I think. But it doesn’t mean we trust you. Trust anything about this place.” I lower my rifle to a nearby table, almost tipping over an ostentatious vase of flowers.
Astra cocks her head. “Is it my current form? Previous aspirants found it hard to communicate with me in this shape.”
“Maybe?” Mika says, reassuring. “What form would you like to take?”
“Perhaps…” Astra pauses, and then starts to change. Her liquid form flows like mercury, taking shape. Hair, long, cascading, sprouts from her head, silver strands that wreath her slim shoulders. Eyes deepen, take shape, and despite the lack of color, I can discern pupils, irises. Her nose is delicate, perched atop full lips, the kind you see on lipstick models at Walmart.
Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure Page 8