by Celia Styles
And that brought me to another problem. Where the hell was I? If I was to believe anything I’d seen in my repeated re-watchings of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, I was probably not Earth-bound at the moment. Was I on some kind of alien spacecraft? How would I get home if I was?
With a click, I was alerted to someone else entering the room. I jumped to my feet, my mind brimming with questions that I wanted answered, until I saw that it wasn’t the creature back again—it was a small box, trundling along on wheels, with a single blue light flickering on its top.
“Please, follow me to the briefing room,” a soothing voice ordered me, and I realized it was coming from the machine in front of me. I shook my head in disbelief, but saw an opportunity to get out of this cramped space and get a better idea of where I was.
“Um…okay?” I replied, feeling like an idiot for talking to this little cube on wheels.
The light on top of it flickered twice, and it turned and moved quickly away down the corridor. I had to hurry to keep up with it, so much so that I didn’t get much of a chance to take in my surroundings. I followed the box around a labyrinth of twisting and turning corridors, until I found myself outside a nondescript door.
Catching my breath, I finally looked around, and spotted a window on the opposite wall. I glanced at the little box, and slyly took a step away from it, as if worried it might reprimand me if it caught me looking. I turned to the window, and my jaw dropped.
Outside, there was…nothing. Well, nothing and everything. The black sky seemed to unfold for miles out in front of me, and I found myself looking at stars I had once thought were so far away a little closer-up. And then, amongst the acres and acres of nothing, there was Earth. A perfectly sphere, a gorgeous medley of green and blue and white, so distant but so familiar.
I pressed my hand to the glass to steady myself as I felt my knees begin to buckle underneath me. I couldn’t believe it. We were actually…in space. It looked as if I could just reach out and touch the velvety darkness that lay in front of me, the darkness I had spent so many years staring up at from my hometown. And now, here I was—about as far from Harrow Falls as I could possibly be.
Remembering my little house in my small town made everything seem to finite in comparison to what I was looking at right now. The entire world out in front of me, the whole of space, and me, insignificant, loser little me, dumped right in the middle of it. I saw clouds swimming in front of my eyes and felt my legs suddenly give out. With a small sigh, I fell to the floor—or I would have, had a strong pair of arms not stopped me.
I pulled myself to my feet immediately, remembering that the immediate situation called for me to be on my game and not lost in the infinite majesty of what surrounded me. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I looked up into the eyes of the person who had stopped me from falling, and found myself taken by surprise.
The man standing in front of me—at least, I was pretty certain that it was a man—was tall, like the creature who’d come into my room earlier on. His shoulders were broad and tapered down to a slim waist, and his skin was that same pale icy-white color. His eyes, though, were green and bright, and staring at me with a concerned curiosity that made my heart flutter a little.
“Are you hurt?”
His voice had the same gentle singsong quality to it, and I very nearly found myself too lost in the tone of his words to process what he’d just said.
“Um, no. I’m fine,” I managed, my eyes scanning every inch of his face. I couldn’t take my gaze off him.
He steadied me on my feet, then let go, watching me carefully as if he was concerned that I might tip over at any moment.
“Were you here for the briefing?” he asked, stepping back from me and glancing out the window we were still standing next to.
I nodded. “Please, come with me, and we can get started.” He gestured to the door next to us, motioning for me to go inside.
I was still reeling from the shock of finding out where I was and wasn’t in any position to argue, so I did as I was told, pushing the door open and making my way into a small, office-like room.
I stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure how I should conduct myself, and waited for some kind of pointers from the man who caught me. He took a seat behind a large, gleaming white desk, and nodded at the seat opposite him.
“Please, take a seat.”
I quickly sat down, folding my hands in my lap, not wanting to risk looking up at him again lest I get lost in that face once more.
“Now, I understand that you must be feeling pretty disorientated,” He began, his tone sympathetic, “And I want you to know that no harm will come of you here, no matter what your decision is.”
“O-okay,” I replied shakily. Why was there all this talk of making decisions? What choice was I expected to make?
“I’ve been led to believe that you already understand the premise behind our experiments, and I just want to give you a little more background on the subject,” he continued, as if the two of us were sitting in a job interview. He was treating this whole situation as if it was completely normal, and that was freaking me out even more than everything else had. If I could find someone who seemed to acknowledge how freaking insane all of this was along with me, maybe everything wouldn’t seem quite so unbearable. I gestured for him to carry on.
“We’ve been studying how life-forms from different worlds interact—as friends, as colleagues, and now as romantic partners,” he explained. “We’re trying to get a grasp on what would happen if my species was to officially introduce itself to your species.”
“So….that isn’t what this is?” I asked, finally finding my voice again.
He shook his head. “These experiments are…pre-introductions, if you like. We acquire all the information we need, then we return the subjects of the experiment back to Earth, with their memories removed, so they can carry on precisely as normal.”
“You wipe our memories?” A little part of me was relieved—at least I wouldn’t have to carry out the mind-bending reality of this after it was over.
“That’s right.” He nodded. “We’re planning to make official contact with Earth at some point over the next two years, but for now we want to be sure that it won’t cause an untenable amount of tension or aggression. So we’ve been studying humans.”
“And I’m now part of that study?”
“Yes. Well, only if you want to be.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what exactly would my participation entail?”
He shifted slightly in his seat, as if the thought on answering my questions made him uncomfortable. “Breeding.”
I nodded slowly, allowing the word to sink into my brain. “So…I would have sex with…one of you?”
“I want to stress, if you do not wish to participate in this experiment, you can leave now with no ill will,” he replied quickly, as if he was worried I might do something unpredictable if he didn’t offer me that option.
“So you keep saying,” I snapped back. My mind was whirring.
If what these people…these things…were saying was true, wouldn’t I be doing a good thing by deciding to participate? While my brain knew that that might well be the case, my body seemed to be in some kind of no-man’s-land, both nervous and excited at the thought of hooking up with one of these creatures. I shook my head, exasperated with myself—was I really so hard up for sex that I was considering getting down with some freaky kidnapping aliens? I seriously hoped not.
“Can I just ask one thing?” I said, after a long pause. He nodded. “Why me?”
He looked at me for a while, and I met his gaze unwaveringly. If there was anything that would convince me either way in this scenario, it would be knowing why they’d chosen me, and whether or not they had a real reason for keeping me here. If they could prove that I truly might be of help, then who was I to refuse?
“Why not you?” he replied simply, and his words took me by surprise. After the clinical, official nature of every o
ther interaction I’d had with these things, I hadn’t expected an answer that seemed so…organic. So human.
I shook my head again, needing something more concrete. “There’s nothing…special about me. I’m about as ordinary as they come. I just don’t understand why you’d pick me, of all people, to be here and do…whatever.”
The man furrowed his brow at me. “Of course you’re special. You’re an alien species. You’re new, you’re different, you’re extraordinary.”
He said it as if it was obvious, as if it was something I should have known all along. It took me off-guard. I had never considered myself particularly different—in fact, I’d generally look in the mirror and see someone who was the definition of the word “average”. I had nothing in particular going for me, yet not enough tragedy in my life to set me apart from anyone else. I had given up on chasing so many of the things I’d actually wanted that I’d forgotten there was, once, something that set me apart from the people around me.
Hearing someone say it, I felt something profound shift inside of me, as if my brain was re-aligning itself. To this man, I was indescribably special. I was fascinating, I was new, I was different. Even though it had taken alien eyes to see me in a new light, the words meant something to me. And I wanted to find some way to pay them back. There was only one immediate way I could see to doing that.
“So…what happens if I agree to this?” I asked softly, averting my gaze from his again. Even as a grown-ass adult, the thought of discussing sex in as clinical a setting as this one kind of freaked me out a little bit.
“We take you to one of our experiment rooms, we partner you up, and we…let nature take its course. You initiate romantic bonding with the subject, and then, if it leads naturally to intercourse, we allow it to happen.”
“So, I basically have to go on a date?”
The man’s mouth twitched upward, the first sign of anything other than seriousness I’d seen from him since the moment he caught me. “I suppose so, yes.”
I tugged at my robe. “Well, I’m going to need something better to wear than this.”
*
I found myself an hour later, sitting in one of the experiment rooms, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and focusing on the feeling of my heart pounding in my throat. I couldn’t believe that I’d agreed to do this. I knew that I could turn down anything I didn’t want, but some part of my brain didn’t want that to happen. Maybe it was my natural curiosity, or maybe it was just being pulled out of my comfort zone for the first time in a long time, but I could feel my body buzzing with adrenalin and I didn’t want it to stop. After spending the last few years of my life in a pit of boredom and mundanity, I had finally found something that made me feel…alive.
I was told to wait in the room—which contained a small table, two chairs, and a conspicuous bed that was clearly just laid out for intergalactic humping, if it did happen—until my match arrived. I had no idea what to expect, but I kept trying to tell myself that this was essentially just like a blind date. It was just going to be some light conversation and maybe some other stuff with someone somebody else had picked out for me, like all those dull accountants my mom tried to set me up with over the years. No better, no worse.
Still, I could feel my body buzzing with excitement, my muscles tense and my mind racing. My head snapped up as soon as I heard the door open, and I was surprised to find that I recognized the person behind the door.
“It’s you!” I exclaimed, getting to my still-wobbly feet.
“Uh…yes. Me.” The man who caught me earlier nodded.
I wondered if the authorities noticed the way I stared at him, the way my mind had replayed over and over the feeling of his hands holding me up through the thin robe outside his office. My body shivered in response to the memory, and I did everything I could to compose myself. I gestured for him to sit, and joined him at the table when he did. We looked at each other for a moment, his eyes skimming across my now-dressed body.
“You look…different,” he offered, as if he was trying to figure out what to say.
“I think the word you’re looking for there is ‘nice’,” I corrected him. “I suppose you don’t do a lot of dating, do you?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We’re usually paired off with suitable partners by the state. I find your method of selecting your own partner most fascinating.”
I tilted my head at him. “So, do you already have your own partner?”
“No. I chose not to engage with reproduction,” he answered simply, his eyes still taking in my body. I supposed it was as much of a shock to him to see me in this kind of situation as it was for me to see him. “I’ve never done…this before, either.”
“Dating, or…?”
“The other…the other one.”
I grinned, and there was a moment of silence between us. “So, you’re a virgin?”
He shot me a look, one that could almost have been mistaken for playful if it had appeared on a human face. “We don’t hold on to those outdated methods of sex. But yes, in your parlance, I am indeed a ‘virgin’.”
I nodded. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you that I’m not.”
“Why would you be sorry for that? If anything, it means at least one of us will know what we’re doing,” he reprimanded me, and I laughed.
“So, you’ve really got no idea?”
“Well, forgive me if I’m not intimately acquainted with inter-species intercourse,” he grumbled.
There was something charming about him, something guileless. It felt strangely refreshing to be out with someone who wasn’t playing any games, who didn’t come with any notions about what should or shouldn’t be said on a date. It wasn’t like the last few dates I’d been on (which were, admittedly, few and far between), where it felt like we were involved in a sort of elaborate dance that may or may not lead to sex.
This was clear. It might have been the strangest freaking situation I’d ever found myself in, but at least neither of us was trying to run ring around the other.
“So…why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?” he tried, and I could see that he had no idea what he was meant to be doing or saying.
“Okay,” I nodded. “But I’m afraid nothing particularly exciting has ever happened to me.”
“Trust me. You’re from a different planet, I’m sure I’m going to find pretty much everything you say interesting.” He smiled, the first full smile he’d given me since we met.
“Why don’t we start by introducing ourselves?” I tried. “I’m Tessa, and I’m a broke cashier. Who are you?”
“I’m Ronan, and I’m an interspecies relations technician,” he replied. I extended my hand to him.
“Nice to meet you, Ronan.”
He looked down at my hand, as if the whole practice was a novelty to him, then placed his hand in mine. “Nice to meet you, Tessa.”
Hearing the way he said my name in that singsong tone sent a shiver down my spine. Well, maybe it was that, or maybe it was the feeling of his skin next to mine. His flesh was cool and soft, and he held his hand in mine for a moment longer than normal. It felt as if someone had sent an electric shock from the tip of my fingers right up to the top of my shoulders.
“And what is a broke cashier?” He asked. It finally seemed as if he was starting to relax—I could see his shoulders release some of their tension as he slumped back into the chair.
“It’s someone with very little money who…oversees other people’s transactions. At shops and stuff.” I shrugged. “Wasn’t exactly my game plan, but that’s where I ended up.”
He looked at me curiously. “What did you want to do?”
“I wanted to design clothes.” Even now, it hurt to say those words in the past tense.
“Why didn’t you do that?”
“I wasn’t good enough.” I shook my head, wanting to get off this subject and on to something less depressing.
“But is fashion not a way to express personality?”
“So how can you be bad at it? If it expresses your personality, is that not good fashion?” He frowned, as if he was having difficulty reconciling what he knew with what I was saying. “Unless I have not grasped the concept correctly.”
“No, you’ve got it about right. I just…didn’t have the talent that other people did.”
“So you stopped?”
“Yes.” I nodded, fiddling with my hands in my lap.
What he was saying—his outsider’s view—was so different from what I’d heard before. Maybe it was just because all the people I’d spoken to about this had some vested interest in me personally. It felt as if every word of encouragement was more to do with their feelings towards me as a daughter or a friend or a classmate, not their feelings towards me as a designer. But what Ronan was saying made sense, much as I didn’t want to admit that to him. He cocked his head at me, and I forced myself to look up into his eyes again.
“That’s a shame.”
I nodded. “I know.”
I found myself genuinely shaken by what he’d said, and the care he took to express himself. I wanted to change the subject, and fast.
“So, why don’t you talk about yourself?”
He leaned back in his seat. “What do you want to know?”
“Um…” I racked my brains for all the questions that I wanted him to answer, and there were too many to even fully consider in the time that we had. “Why are you doing this? Reaching out to us, I mean?”
He shrugged. “Because any species would do the same. You’d have done it to us if you’d found us first. We’re curious, just like you would be.”
“Are you curious?”
“Of course.” He nodded. “It’s why I got into this field of work.”
“How long have you worked in this?”
“Just over a decade. A long time. But this is the first time I’ve really had any prolonged contact with…” He waved his hand at me. “One of you.”