Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  If Syl had been there from the start, the dynamic would have been different. Those intimate moments, the trust I’d built with Mika… What would have happened if there’d been three of us, one of them an alien? A being from beyond the stars, thrown together two humans. On top of dying, being resurrected, fighting for our lives in the Citadel?

  It would have been too much.

  That doesn’t make what Syl went through any easier, though. “I’m sorry. That you were alone. That it took so long to find us.”

  “Apologizing for something that is not your fault,” she says with a half-smile. “Is this a human trait?”

  “Hah, maybe. Or maybe it’s that I feel shitty because I had a partner when I woke, and you were alone.”

  “Shitty,” she says, testing the word like she’s putting an exotic and potentially disgusting food in her mouth.

  “Yeah. Shitty. When something is bad.” I smile at her. “Like you waking up alone and confused. Shitty.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “Is ‘shit’ not a colloquialism for excrement on your world?”

  “Okay, first off, I don’t even want to know how you know that. Secondly, human languages and slang are confusing. English more so.”

  “I am discovering that,” she says quietly.

  We’re silent awhile. Slowly, tentatively, she finally lowers her hand until it rests over mine. Her fingers are long, powerful, and the tips span my length and touch Mika’s stomach; nails I’ve seen tear through metal rest against her hot skin like feathers. “Sam. I may not have been with you from the start,” she says, voice banked, “but I am pleased to be with you now.”

  “Likewise. You’re pretty handy in a scrap,” I wink.

  “A scrap?”

  “Sorry. Slang again. A fight.”

  “Oh, yes,” she purrs, flexing her shoulders. “I enjoy a good fight.”

  I straighten. “Speaking of which. Before Mika wakes up, we’ve gotta talk.”

  Syl matches my stance, but doesn’t respond, suddenly wary.

  “You’re right. What I built with Mika was important. Beyond what I feel for her personally, that trust, that knowledge that she has my back… That’s how we’ve survived. I know I can count on her.”

  “And you do not believe you can… count… on me?”

  I lick my lips. Have to choose my words carefully. After that last trial, we need her, but it’s more than that. “It’s not that. Just that you don’t seem to realize that we’re not like you.”

  Her face tightens, but she doesn’t move her hand. “Explain.”

  “Before we died, Mika and I weren’t warriors. We aren’t now, not really. We were just normal people, going about our lives. What we’ve done since we arrived here is… Amazing. And a huge part of that is communication. Trust. Knowing that when I turn around, she’ll be by my side, no matter what.”

  “That you have succeeded despite being… normal people… is truly noteworthy.” She smiles, nods her encouragement. “I am lucky to have you as clan.”

  I’m not sure she’s seeing my point, how she plays into this. I’m not sure how to frame it in a way that she’ll understand. I grind my teeth, frustrated. “You are different, Syl. This life isn’t strange to you, the fighting, the killing. In battle, you see opportunity, and you take it. You fight like nothing I’ve ever seen, like something from a fucking movie. You’re incredible.”

  “Yes,” she nods.

  “But like I said, we are not. When we’re in the middle of a fight and I look up to find you gone, without telling us what you’re up to… For people like us, who don’t have the battle instinct you do…” I shake my head, not sure if any of this makes sense. I’m no warrior, and this sounds like I’m bullshitting.

  But Syl doesn’t scoff or correct me. Instead she’s thoughtful, eyes distant as her nimble tongue plays across her lips. “We must learn to fight together.”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. Like back at the outpost. When you took off without us, it left us stumbling and confused with no plan.” I turn my hand over, so its back rests against Mika, and slip my fingers through Syl’s. “We aren’t like you. Battle isn’t natural to us. We don’t instinctively know what to do in a fight.” I squeeze. “We need your help.”

  Syl hesitates before returning my gesture. “I think I understand. And… I am sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We’re alive. We made it. And now, next time, we’ll be better.”

  Syl grins, which is slightly terrifying considering her razor teeth. “Yes. We will make our enemies lives shitty. ”

  I laugh. A real laugh buoyed by relief. That she understands and isn’t about to ditch us or something. “Fuck yeah we will.”

  Syl squeezes tighter. “Thank you.”

  “For what? Almost dying?”

  “Yes, actually,” she says, as serious as I’ve ever seen her. “Your new power… I have seen what it does to you. Yet you used it when you were weak. I would not be here right now, if not for that. It was… Heroic.”

  I look down, not sure what to say. “I’m no hero.”

  “And yet, here I am.”

  “It was the right thing to do. I wasn’t going to leave you behind.”

  Syl smiles. “It sounds like we are saying the same thing in two ways.”

  “Yeah, well…” I cough, not sure what to say. “

  There’s a long groan, low with banked pain and exhaustion, saving me from saying something embarrassing.

  Her eyes flutter open, unfocused. She raises up onto her uninjured elbow and blinks at us owlishly.

  Her eyes come to rest on my hand in Syl’s. “Good,” she whispers.

  It’s not the reaction I was expecting, but in retrospect, I should have. This is all an adventure to her, and she’s far more eager to live and feel and experiment than I would have thought possible, considering how she was too shy to look at me naked when we first met.

  I can’t help myself. I lean over and kiss her. I wasn’t ashamed to be caught holding Syl’s hand, and I’m not afraid of doing this, either.

  She returns the kiss eagerly, suddenly desperate and needy. I know what she’s feeling.

  Relief. That we survived. That we made it.

  I break contact, hating that I have to.

  Syl’s released my hand at some point; I was preoccupied, didn’t realize. She sits motionless, turned away from us. There’s something so pensive and lonely in her stillness, in her controlled rigidity. I remember her reaction when Mika kissed her, her surprise. A surprise that turned to eagerness.

  Fuck it. I lean over Mika’s body, wrap Syl in my arms, and kiss her too. She’s turned away, so I can only reach her cheek, but I don’t care.

  She gasps.

  Her face isn’t scaled, but still feels different than human skin; it’s rougher, textured, but soft. Hotter, too, so warm against my lips.

  She turns into the kiss, meets my lips with hers. They’re muscled in a way a human’s aren’t, powerful, and as she presses tight against me it’s impossible not to imagine them wrapped around my cock. Her tongue slips into my mouth, deep, probing. She tastes incredible, alien, like something I can’t name. Cinnamon and citrus, maybe. Her hands raise, tilling my hair, and her nails drag gently along my scalp, delicious tactile pleasure. This close, she makes something like a cat’s purr from deep in her chest, so quiet that I wouldn’t be able to hear it a foot away.

  I lose myself in the kiss for I don’t know how long, tasting, experimenting, testing. It’s not like kissing Mika or any other girl I’ve ever known. Her mouth, her tongue, move in ways that are familiar yet alien. And incredible.

  Finally, I pull away and take my first breath in what feels like forever.

  Mika’s laying, arm behind her head, watching. A little smile plays over her lips. “About time,” she says. “You don’t have to stop.”

  I cough, suddenly, inexplicably shy. “Don’t listen to her. She’s still high on love spores.”

  “Not that high.”

&
nbsp; Syl looks to me, something hungry in her eyes.

  For a moment, it feels like I’m back on that mountain road, out of control, about to careen over a cliff. Only, this time, I won’t end up a mangled fireball.

  No, this time, something else waits for me.

  Oh, man.

  Mika blushes suddenly, looks to me. “Speaking of love spores. I said some stuff back there… That… Well…”

  “Forget it. You weren’t in your right mind.”

  “That’s just the thing,” she says, glancing to Syl like she’s about to stop. Instead, she holds my eyes and pushes on. “Nothing I said…” Her eyes flick between us again. “Nothing I did was… False. It was just an exaggeration.”

  “Oh. Ohh. ”

  “Yeah. Just. Sorry about the timing. And… How it was phrased.”

  I bite my lip, blood still hot. “I didn’t mind.”

  “Oh. Well… Then good. Good.”

  Syl watches us, and once again, I wish I could read her like I could a human. Her expressions are like her kiss; familiar yet different, enough so that it’s almost impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

  Well, not that hard in this case.

  Mika sits, wincing, and Syl and I reach forward simultaneously to help her up. “Goddamn. Is this what a hangover feels like? I feel like this is what a hangover feels like.”

  “You’ve never had one? Have never drank?”

  She reddens. “Just a little wine with my parents, before that room where we met Astra.”

  “Hang… Over?” Syl says, pronouncing it slowly.

  “When you’ve knocked a few too many back,” I say. “The next day, it’s not fun.” Syl’s face doesn’t show any comprehension. “You know. Alcohol.”

  “Ah!” she raises a finger. “A grouping of negative side effects caused by the consumption of excessive fermented material.”

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing at Mika. “That.”

  Syl shrugs. “My people do not suffer ill effects from alcoholic drink. We also do not become inebriated. Our systems purge such toxins too quickly. But we have observed such effects in other species we’ve met.”

  Mika cradles her injured arm. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

  “Oh, we have alternative means of altering our perception. There is a plant on my planet that alters how our minds perceive time and causes hallucinations. We have replicated in our greenhouses.” She nods toward my crotch. “It also causes excessive engorgement of the genitals in both males and females, so much so that coupling repeatedly becomes necessary to immediately to relieve the pressure.”

  “Wait, it slows down time and gives you a larger…” I swallow.

  “Erection,” Mika supplies helpfully. “I want some.”

  “I am told it is quite the experience,” Syl says.

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s still poisoned.” Mika elbows me. “Anyway,” I say, desperate to pull us back to something like normalcy, if only for a moment. “Your arm.”

  “Still hurts. I think it’s improving, though.” She eyes the still pulsing amber glow above us. “Taking its sweet time.”

  “Be thankful,” Syl says. “On my world, there is no cure for this infection.”

  That sobers us.

  “We can’t keep up like this,” Mika says, voice quiet.

  “You mean almost dying every trial?” I rub my biceps, shudder at the memory of Inferno cauterizing the wounds. “Yeah. I agree.”

  “Syl…” Mika trails off, turns to search my eyes.

  “We’ve talked,” I assure her. “This place is getting more and more difficult. The only way we’ll survive is to be a team. A real one.”

  “Yeah. I mean, look at us. We’re turning into a party.”

  “Party?” Syl asks.

  “You know, like from a video game.” She pokes Syl between the breasts, finger lingering on her dark scales. “You’re the tank.” She turns to me. “Ranged. And leadership.” She quirks her mouth. “I’m the glass cannon.”

  “You’re more than that,” I say. “We’d be fucked if none of us could see glowing runes or invisible monsters.”

  “Yeah. Well. What I’m saying is that… I think we’ll be okay. I think we’ll make it.”

  Syl nods. “You are warriors. Even if you were not, before,” she says, silencing me with her eyes. “I do not understand most of what Mika just said, but her meaning is clear.” She flexes a hand, extending glittering claws.

  Suddenly, Mika gasps. Her arm shudders violently and she holds it out parallel to the floor, eyes wide. The lights glow brighter, pulsing so fast it’s like we’re at a rave.

  “Mika, are you…”

  “Yes! Just… I think it’s…” She moans from low in her stomach as yellow sap oozes from the pores of her arm. It beads at her skin, and the smell of rot assaults us. Her skin flushes bright red as it drives out the sickness and she stumbles against me. I hold her tight, keeping my body away from the sap.

  And then, with a final bright flash from above, the poison mists away. There one moment, gone the next. Mika slumps further into my arms, heaving against my chest.

  “Good?” I ask.

  She nods, hair bobbing against my nose. How can she smell so fucking good so soon after all that?

  Mika stands, takes a long breath. She smiles. “No more poison trees, please.”

  “I shall help you avoid them,” Syl says with something like guilt in her voice.

  There’s a sharp ding. CONVALESCENCE COMPLETE. INITIATING ROOM TIMER

  00:05:00

  Five minutes. Not long. I sigh, exhausted. It’s not physical; I feel like I could punch through the wall if I wanted. Lift a tank. No, this is mental. Days of fighting and running and mortal injuries are taking a toll I don’t know how to put into words. The respite with Mika was incredible, the best night of my life, but in the face of everything else that’s happened… I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

  There’s a picture I saw on the internet, once, of a soldier in World War 1. He was smiling almost maniacally like he was broken. Inside. I’d read that his shell shock was so great that it broke his mind. Like what Syl called the battle fear. Maybe it was true, or maybe it was internet bullshit, but the image has always stuck with me, especially now.

  How many times can I get the shit kicked out of me and almost die, or get chased by the Shepherd before that’s it? Before my mind, never trained by any adversity more than a bad relationship, breaks? Will it ever?

  How long can I keep doing this?

  I glance up, to Mika and Syl. They stand close and watch me, not speaking. They don’t ask if I’m okay. They wait for me to sort myself, and I love them for it.

  How long can I keep doing this?

  As long as it takes.

  “Good?” Mika asks.

  “Good.” A thousand questions I could ask speed through my mind; why the Threvians took us prisoner; strategy for the next trial; questions about Syl’s ways and people and technology.

  But I put all that aside. We have three minutes left, and in that time, there’s one more thing I have to do. “Astra, are you there?”

  She appears instantly, melting up from the floor so rapidly that I’m sure she was watching us. The others take a step back, and Syl’s claws come up. Her eyes narrow, and she crouches low in a stance I’ve already come to know means I’m about to fuck shit up. I realize that she’s probably never met the AI before. I put my hand up to stay her, giving her a placating smile. She frowns and lowers her claws, though I can’t help but notice that her claws don’t sheathe.

  Astra coalesces in seconds, taking the form she did when she chose her dress. She’s beautiful, her silver surface reflecting the light from above while somehow absorbing it, and I can see my distorted reflection in her unblinking eyes.

  Astra smiles. “Hello, Sam.”

  All the questions I had for her evaporate under her gaze. She looks so serene. And so sad. Instead of asking what I’d planned, what comes out is:
“Can you look human, if you want?”

  Astra’s mouth opens, but she stops, taken off guard. She blinks slowly before answering. “Do I not?”

  “I meant your skin. Your form. Is this your natural state? Or…”

  She cocks her head, considering, and then swallows. “Do you mean, is there a form I prefer?”

  “I think that’s exactly what he means,” Mika says, moving next to me.

  She tilts her head, eyes narrowed. Even silver skinned, it’s so easy to forget she’s not real sometimes. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “Well, I do, I just don’t know how to…” I shrug. “You saved us back there. Held back the Shepherd. We’d be dead if not for you. I want to know the person who threw herself between us and death. We all do. We want to know you. ”

  “Person…” Astra says, trailing off. The word hangs on her lips, freighted with meaning. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “Yeah, well. I don’t have a lot of friends in this place. Gotta keep ‘em close.”

  “Friend,” she repeats. She looks up, animating. “Yes. I… I do have a form I prefer. One I chose long ago.”

  “Can we see?” Mika asks.

  Astra hesitates, and her shyness is so disarming. I mean, can an AI be shy? I wouldn’t have thought so, before being brought here. But Astra’s something special.

  Her body starts to change. It’s subtle, at first, even if it happens quickly. Her features smooth, and her hair shortens until it’s only a few inches long, curling as it goes. Her body thins and her hips and breasts draw in slightly as her body lengthens, earning her at least another foot of height. Her cheekbones sharpen and her lips shrink. Her dress dissolves, replaced by loose pants and a long lab coat, its pocket bristling with pens and a ruler. Large wireframe glasses erupt from her face, perching on her delicate nose.

  In moments, she’s unrecognizable. Especially compared to her first form, when she stood naked before us like a porn star made real. Now, she looks… normal , like someone you’d meet in the street or at work. If you worked in a lab somewhere.