Starbleached

by Chelsea Gaither

  Bryan had tentatively mentioned the possibility of human testing. Possibility, he had emphasized. Everyone had still volunteered themselves as subjects. Maybe Mich being here was perfectly innocent.

  Yeah. And maybe pigs would arrive at Holton soon, having flown under their own power. “What do you want?”

  “Hey, the way you and my brother are at it, you might be family soon. Can’t a guy have a talk with his family without getting gear thrown at him? Come on. Let’s go to the parks.”

  In the public areas of Holton, it was almost like a fairyland. All greenery and light, the long metal braces trickling water from ceiling to floor, it was as if the shrinks thought killing angles and chroming everything would keep human ugliness from breeding in corners. And because not everyone could drop to the grass when they needed a break, every hundred yards a small circle of green held a gazebo. What the designers called them, Adry didn’t know. Everyone who lived here called them the Parks.

  Adry let Mich lead her to the nearest. Silver struts sprouted ten thousand vines. Mirror smooth ceiling reflected her every movement. A Hap-eeze dispenser sat in one corner with a stack of cut crystal glasses beside it. There was a coffee shop on every floor, a dispenser in every apartment, but Hap-Eeze was the latest in serotonin replacement therapy. Holton must have gotten one hell of a sponsorship from them.

  The fountain in here was weird. Every park had a different one, as if there’d been a contest on who could splash water around most creatively. This one was a single chrome bowl. A glass-clear stream fell from the ceiling and splashed into the far left corner of its wide and spreading pool. The design was intended to be modern, but Adry found it chilling. Dark. Primitive. Something a witch would position under a three-toned moon. She could almost see it: spindly figure in black robes, smoke rising around her fingers with tiles made of bone spread on the ground before her feet. Everything dark as a tiger’s scream…save for the bowl. Silver bowl, silver water, silver moon. Men summoned the future in silver as if metallic brightness could color tomorrow with light.

  She shook herself, but the feeling didn’t go away. Restlessly, she walked to the Hap-Eeze dispenser and dialed up a dose. Blue fluid filled the glass. A magic potion to cast sorrow away. She looked up as she drank it, and someone had scrawled The Cave on the ceiling in dark red lipstick. So I’m not the only one.

  Mich ran his fingers through the scrying bowl. He held his own glass of bottled joy up in a toast. “To Holton Station’s tomorrow. May it be bright as a newborn star.”

  “They design this on purpose, you know.” She poured the Hap-Eeze into the scrying bowl and watched modern science blend with the ghost of the medieval. “The color blue makes you feel peaceful. High price glass, you feel high money yourself…and the chemicals tickle your brain in all the right places.” She set the glass on the ground. “Just like the rest of this place. Grass that never grows past a certain height. Flowers that bloom, but don’t have a strong scent. Rain that falls every night at nine on the dot. We have flora but no fauna. Plants are fertilized by nanotech. No real bugs. No birds, no bugs.”

  “No bees.” Mich smiled.

  “No butterflies.” She countered. “Small little insects with stingers…we’ve got those in plenty.”

  “Don’t you just wish you could burn it all down?” He asked, still smiling his Holton station smile.

  “What do you want, Mich?”

  “I want my brother to do what he’s good at. Make a weapon. Not this chemistry kit shit. He’s lost his edge, if he ever had it. I know all about my brother, you know.” He moved a little closer, smile dropping away. “He took my dad. He took my best friend. And he took…” Mich’s brown eyes tracked over every inch of her body. “…the best…for himself.”

  She swallowed, cold sweat breaking out on her arms. “I need to get back to my work.” The scrying bowl was so large she couldn’t escape Mich’s reach. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her back against the gazebo wall.

  “Do you like it?” He asked, standing close to her. Far, far too close. “Do you let him tie you to the bed? Do you think it’s all sweetness and light when he fastens the knots?” She tried to pull free, and Mich grabbed both wrists and pushed her back into the lattice work. Vines dug into her back and wrists. “Because I think he’s reliving the moment he killed my friend.”

  Whatever. “Okay.” She looked into his wild brown eyes. “You’re hurting me, and you need to let go now.”

  His grip tightened more, his face was now inches from hers. Close enough to kiss…or bite. “There is a shuttle leaving Holton in an hour. Be on it, and don’t come back.”

  An artificial breeze stirred the ivy leaves. It was engineered to promote a peaceful outlook in the station population, and it stirred Mich’s bangs as he glared into her eyes. The fingers on her wrists clenched tighter. Diplomacy failed. Next tactic. She rammed her knee into Michel’s groin. He moved fast enough to save his jewels, not fast enough to keep his inner thigh from getting bruised. He grunted in pain, twisted her wrists, and slammed her back against the gazebo wall. Tendons popped over wrist bones.

  “Isn’t this what you like?” he hissed.

  “I’m really scared now. Please let go.”

  He kissed her. Only it was rough and hard, and he pinned his arm over her throat so that she couldn’t breathe. Clawing at him only increased the influx of his tongue, and her lungs were burning. Dear god in heaven, she couldn’t breathe—

  The world reeled. Air flooded her lungs, hot and honey cool at the same time. She spilled into something warm and solid for a few brief seconds, which heaved forward as a punching sound echoed in the gazebo. When she looked up Bryan stood between her and Mich, fist pulled back for another go. Blood ran from Michel Landry’s nose.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bryan shouted.

  Mich wiped the blood from his nose, staring as if he couldn’t believe it was his. He looked back to his brother. “I know where your skeletons are buried, you son of a bitch.” Mich reeled away. “Why don’t you tell her about them? How did you feel when you shot Dad? Were you a man? Did your fucking balls grow three sizes that day? Putting Abrams out of his so-called misery, how good did that make you feel?”

  “You’re out of your mind.” Bryan glanced at Adry. You alright? He seemed to say. She nodded, rubbing her neck where it still throbbed.

  “At least I’m putting my fucked up life to good use, man. Putting bullets in the suckers’ heads while I got a chance. I’m not taking my shit out on civilians the way you do. It might get me off, but--”

  “Enough!” Bryan shouted. Anyone not watching the show would be on their way now. “You need help, Mich. Seriously.” Bryan sighed and ran fingers through his hair. “And you’re not going to get it here. Man, I did not want to do this.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re assaulting people in the corridors, dude. I have to file.”

  A mental complaint, Adry filled in silently. And she’d file too, soon as she had a chance. After three, you were sent up for a review. If you failed, you got kicked out of the military and were sent back home for therapy.

  Mich’s eyes widened. “Don’t do it. Don’t even think—”

  “General Miller’s been on me to file for the last four months. Paige filed. Adry’s going to file. Hell,” He sighed, all the fight bleeding out of him like the water in the scrying bowl. “David Abrams filed on you too. Right before…” Bryan’s hands fell to his sides. “I owe you. But now I have to. It’ll be your third complaint.” He paused. There were actual tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  The look on Michel’s face was shattering. “You’ve been trying to get me off the Force? You want me to be a civilian? Shovel cow shit for the rest of my life? Is that what you want, you son of a bitch?”

  Huh. Not even Mich thought he could pass a psych eval.

  “No. It’s not. But if you don’t start getting help, and I mean now, you’re going to end up...” He spread
his hands out. “I don’t want anyone else hurt. I’m sorry.”

  Mich glared at his brother, then spat on the ground between them. Pushing through the crowd, he pointed a black gloved finger back at his brother. “It’s gonna happen one day. Your hypocritical ass is going to light on fire, and I’m going to be the one with the match. You watch.” He pushed through the crowd. “You watch!” He slammed into a lift, throwing a young private out of it.

  “He’s insane.” Adry breathed.

  “He is.” Bryan pulled out his private com and began dialing.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “General Miller. I can’t cover for my brother anymore.”

  *****

  Now:

  She flicked pieces of MRE onto the floor. Packaging. Bits of foil and paper scraps. God, she wanted real food. The tortellini she and Bryan had eaten at an exclusive sky top restaurant back on Holton. A glass of true champagne and strawberries, and warm fingers tracing the boundaries of her torso with an ice cube…

  Get your mind out of the gutter. This is not the place.

  Doors sectioned open and the Overseer came back in. It held more water and another MRE, which it set down beside her. Oh, hell. She didn’t need more water. The opposite, actually. This was going to be humiliating. She closed her eyes and grabbed its ankle. “I have to use the restroom.” She stared straight ahead, glancing up when it made no move either towards or away from her. It appeared more than a little confused. She sighed, almost sobbing. Goddamn aliens who never ate. She glared up the long planes of its body. “I need to pee.”

  It nodded and helped her stand. Tingles ran through her tired legs and arms, feeling returning in a rush. The alien hand on her arm was weirdly gentle as it lead her across the room. Stopping before a small door, it took out a knife and cut the ties holding her hands together. “It is in there.” It turned away while she entered and closed the door.

  It was a small closet with close black walls, a lump of glossy carapace in the center. One large red button glowed at the lump’s top. When she pressed it, a valve sectioned open. A stream of water gushed past the hole. It was a little high for comfort, but Adry sat and did her business. Another push of the red button closed the lid. Not bad, for a species that didn’t need a toilet. The Overseer was facing the door when she exited.

  When they re-entered the lab, it switched the lights to human bright before returning her to the bench. She frowned. Overseers saw a different spectrum, and comfortable light for a human was painful to them. Why would it tune the lights for her when she wasn’t helping it?

  Also, they didn’t expel waste, and the term “restroom” had confused it. But it hadn’t grown that bathroom in ten minutes, and it could have just handed her a bucket. So why had this one grown the facility when it didn’t even get the slang?

  It set a bag on the bench beside her. “A change of clothes,” it said. “And bedding. The bench will not be comfortable for another night.”

  So she’d been here at least twelve hours. She glared at the “gift”; Clothes and bedding belonging to a person. Who was probably dead now. She moved away from the fabric.

  “No one died to provide you with something to wear.” It added, and moved back to its console.

  Gingerly, she unfolded the blouse and caught her breath in awe. Soft white fabric with an inch of complex embroidery on hem and sleeves. Even in this place, with this company, her lust for pretty things erupted like a fire. Work like this would pull a fortune in New York or Beijing. The other items were lovely, too. Sturdy leather pants, worn soft at knees and hips. Underthings made of knitted fiber and a shawl…oh, what a shawl. It took all her willpower not to bury her face in the puff of its folds and shut the whole world out.

  “So there are people on this world.” How much had this…thing taken from the people here? In lives? In goods and services?

  “I take nothing.” The creature said, softly. “I trade.”

  “What do you have, that a person would trade their lives for?”

  It hissed sharply as if she had struck it. “Protection.” It snarled, gesturing around the lab. “A water purification system that doesn’t need eight filters a year to work. Medical supplies that will not rot the limbs off their bodies. Whatever other things here I do not vitally need. Things that not even your people will give them. And…” it held up one hand, allowing her to see the deep red organ on the palm.

  “Occasional murder?”

  “Surgery. The same thing that takes life can give it, under the right circumstances. I can move shattered fragments of bone back into place. Remove a tumor. Put the pieces of a severed artery back together. And unlike most of your doctors here, I can do it cleanly.”

  “You can compare to a real doctor?” The contempt in her voice could have been deep fried with butter.

  “The people here have no medicines. No antibiotics. Their doctor is an old woman who was not taught how to work without modern equipment. Perhaps I cannot compete with you, but I am better than their alternative.”

  Adry couldn’t argue with that, if it were true. Without an irradiating field generator to clear out bacterial colonies, even bandages would carry death on white folds. Most doctors weren’t taught about boiling to sterilize because there were so many other, surer options. You got that training with triage work, or under an experienced doctor who knew what they were doing. Not on your own in an otherworldly swamp. And if her only other choice were dirty knives and sepsis, she might choose an Overseer’s hand. The result would be kinder either way.

  Which didn’t make her feel more charitable towards the monster.

  “This does not allay your fears.”

  Okay, that was three times. Now she felt violated. “You can read minds,” she said, dully.

  “Not human minds.” It shifted, slowly. “Other…true minds. Minds of my kind…” Another, longer silence. It looked confused again. “But I can perceive emotional reactions of…other species. The color of the mind. Yours is frightened and repulsed by me.”

  “You eat people. There can be no other reaction.”

  It did not respond, simply turned back to its work. Only it wasn’t throwing the enzyme into its machines, this time, but items from her med kit. “Those are antibiotics.” Green-brown Amenoperithol, packaged in tiny aerosol “poppers”. It had a bad effect on the digestive system. Poppers were the safest way to administer it. “What are you doing?”

  “The village is experiencing an illness. I cannot fight it. Providing the water purification system slowed its spread, but half the people in the village are dying regardless.”

  “Probably due to their lowered immune systems. Having your life sucked out of you tends to do that. Well. At least you care about your cattle.”

  It made a low, awful hissing sound, and its broad shoulders sagged. “We cannot help what we are.” Its voice was a dry whisper. “I can choose what I do. Feed, or hunger. Take what I need, or provide things in trade. I cannot prevent the spread of this disease. I do not understand how it works. But they are still dying.” It paused, ugly fingers on the medicines, then faced her. “Perhaps a smaller trade in kind. If you can identify the organism causing the illness, help the village stop its spread, you may stay there, rather than here.”

  She closed her eyes. Stockholm syndrome. I don’t want to be manipulated into caring for a monster. She shouldn’t give in. But… if this were a plague, she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t help to stop its spread. And being allowed anywhere other than this awful place…She turned back to the blank mask. “Can I at least change clothing in privacy?”

  It left the room without providing an answer.

  *****

  Then:

  “How long has Mich been gone?” General Shawn Miller asked Bryan.

  “I have no idea. He assaulted Adry and then took off.” They marched down the hallway bisecting the living quarters. It lead to the labyrinthine service tunnels, and then to the military zone. Here, things were no long
er smooth and polished. Angles and olive drab abounded. Lockers and weapons and fighting ships like shark’s teeth. Neither Bryan nor Adry fit in here at all. Shawn, however, was in his element. He fixed Bryan with a sharp gaze, and the scientist said, uncomfortably, “Look, I did try to talk him down.”

  “The story I heard had you doing a little assaulting of your own.” General Miller said.

  “He had her pinned to the wall, Shawn.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Adrienne, you want to tell me your half of the story?” He looked down at her. Overseers topped off at nearly seven feet. Rumor had it Miller could look one of them in the eye.

  “Mich pinned me to the wall of the gazebo. And he…” she dropped her eyes, rubbed her throat and shivered.

  General Miller turned back to Bryan. “I read your report. You gonna be able to sleep, knowing your brother is out there, that screwed up? He’s gone AWOL with one of our fighters. You got that on your conscience too.” Bryan started to speak and Shawn shook his head. “No. You should have done this four years ago and you and I both know it.”

  “I wanted to protect my brother. After what I put him through—”

  “You saved his ass from a psychopath.”

  “Yeah, but maybe not soon enough to keep him from turning into one. I shot my stepfather in the leg, in front of my brother.”

  “After he’d beaten you both down into a pulp. Hell, I wish I’d had a shot at the son of a bitch. But there’s nothing we can do about how Mich turned out. I’m telling my people to be on the lookout. They’re going to bring him in and court martial him for taking the fighter. He’s out. There’s nothing I can do about that. You need to start getting your targets lined up and see if you can salvage something. But he has to take the fallout from this.” Shawn looked at both of them, his eyes deeply sorrowful. “I’m sorry.” He marched back into the military zone.