Alien Genes 1: Daughter of Atuk

by Petra Theunissen

  Let go of me. I want to go home.

  I will help you to get home, but not now and not this way.

  Who are you?

  You will know me when you see me.

  Annoyed at the person's vague words, she turned around, trying to see who was preventing her from crossing over, but the person's face was hidden under the hood of a long purple cape.

  She lifted her hand to remove the hood, but someone else clutched her hand.

  No. It is not time yet.

  She looked at the second person, but his face was hidden too.

  Let go of me! You have no right to prevent me from going home.

  She freed her hand and pulled the hood away from the person's face. Stunned, she recoiled. Who are you?

  I am whoever and whatever you want me to be.

  Suddenly the darkness was filled with a high-pitched sound, and from nowhere a spacecraft crashed into the forest. There were screams of fear and pain. She saw a man scrambling out of the wreckage; there was blood on his face and cuts on his body. His arm was limp, as if broken. There were bodies all around. She walked closer, stepping over the bodies strewn outside the wreckage. She could feel cold dark eyes staring at her.

  Where is it? The voice in her head was demanding.

  No, she wouldn't tell.

  You don't deserve to know, she answered. She turned, facing the voice and recognised him instantly. It was you all along, wasn't it? What did you do to me?

  The man didn't respond and lifted his hand. Cathy felt a burst of energy hitting her, and she cringed with pain. Darkness was a sudden and welcome relief...

  The alarm on the heart monitor started sounding. The woman grabbed the defibrillator, trying to jumpstart Cathy's heart, but her efforts were in vain. After three tries, she leaned back, shaking her head.

  Her heart has stopped, Eqin. She is gone.

  Eqin, who had been sitting in the back of the ambulance, got to his feet.

  No! Try it again, he demanded. He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

  It's not working, Eqin. Too much of her genetic material has been destroyed. It's over. S'Tha rested her hand on his arm. Let her go.

  No, he said. His gaze was fixed on Cathy, who was lying motionless as the ambulance sped along. He couldn't let her die. Without her...

  He placed his hands gently on her chest and for a very brief moment, he hesitated, wondering whether it was fair, what he was about to do. Perhaps he should let her go.

  S'Tha grabbed him by the arm, a hint of panic in her plea, Eqin, you can't do this...

  Without looking at her, he pulled his arm away. Get out of my way, S'Tha. I have to do this.

  S'Tha was insistent. She is human, Eqin. This won't work. You're wasting your energy.

  Without it she's dead anyway.

  You can't do this, Eqin. This is against everything we believe in.

  He didn't answer. His green eyes locked into hers, and she moved grudgingly away. He could sense her resentment, but she wasn't in a position to question him. It wasn't her place.

  As he concentrated, a gentle yellow light began radiating from his hands, spreading out until it encapsulated Cathy's dying body. He felt his own energy flowing into her, merging with what little remained of hers. Tiny drops of sweat formed on his forehead as he strained to maintain the flow. He closed his eyes, knowing fully that he wouldn't be able to maintain it much longer without killing himself. Her life-energy had been almost completed depleted.

  Suddenly, the alarm on the monitor stopped and the back of the ambulance became eerily quiet. Eqin removed his hands and looked down at Cathy.

  It had worked. She was still alive.

  He sat back exhausted and wiped the sweat from his brow. Transferring his energy to Cathy had been a draining experience. It would be some time before his vitality was replenished.

  His gaze caught that of S'Tha and he saw her displeasure. Without saying a word, she turned her head away. Eqin sighed inaudibly. Would he ever be able to make her understand why he did what he did?

  The ambulance came to a halt, and the doors opened.

  You'd better hurry. The aircraft is waiting. They're bound to be looking for her by now. The words were couched in silence.

  Eqin nodded. Thanks, your help is appreciated.

  He struggled up, too weak to stand firmly and S'Tha rushed over to support him.

  You shouldn't have done it. She eyed him disapprovingly. You could have killed yourself.

  He said nothing. What could he say? They clearly had different opinions on the matter.

  Cathy was hurriedly transferred to the small aircraft. Minutes later it took off after bouncing down the rough airstrip. Eqin watched it disappear over the darkness of the desert, while behind him the ambulance drove away slowly. Everything was going according to plan.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  The first thing Cathy became aware of was the complete silence. It was a strange experience. She couldn't remember when last she had experienced complete silence, and for a long while she lay motionless, her eyes closed, listening to absolutely nothing. She felt strangely disconnected from her body.

  After some time she opened her eyes, but the brightness forced her to close them again. It took a few tries before she was able to keep them open long enough to take in her surroundings. It was bright and empty, with only a chair and a small, round table in the corner.

  Where am I?

  A part of the wall suddenly vanished, and a woman entered through the gap. She smiled when she saw Cathy. “Oh, good. You are awake. How are you feeling?"

  “Tired.” Cathy's mind was in disarray.

  “That's to be expected,” the woman said, and bent over to fix the bed covers.

  Cathy scanned the woman's face. There was something unusual about it, but her mind was too foggy to realise what it was. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “You're safe."

  The answer didn't satisfy Cathy, but she didn't have the strength to ask more. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

  S'Tha stood for a moment watching her before leaving the room as quietly as she'd entered it.

  Eqin looked up as she entered.

  How's she doing? He communicated his query voicelessly.

  She was awake. The answer was delivered in the same fashion.

  Finally.

  He didn't try to hide his relief, ignoring his sister's disapproving look. He knew that she thought his fondness of Cathy—a human—was ... unnatural.

  She's still weak, she warned. There are no guarantees that she will pull through or that she'll regain her sanity.

  His demeanour remained neutral. Just do what you can.

  She looked at him disparagingly. I still don't approve of what you have done. It's not safe for us.

  He hardly looked up from his table. I know, but I appreciate your efforts anyway.

  He saw her frown deepen and knew that his lack of concern for her opinion troubled her. If only she knew how important Cathy really was...

  * * * *

  S'Tha was sitting in the chair next to Cathy's bed, her gaze never leaving the human's face.

  For the past three months, Cathy had been slipping in and out of sanity. Sometimes she would be utterly disoriented, sitting in the corner of the room, singing and talking to herself. Sometimes she would simply lie in the bed, staring catatonically at the roof. Other times she would be almost normal, but in a state of deep depression.

  Working with Cathy was like a roller-coaster ride. S'Tha was never sure what to expect. There'd been times when the human viciously attacked the assistants the moment they came through the door, and they had to forcibly restrain her. It was not what she had in mind when she allowed her brother to bring Cathy to the Facility. Humans were experimental animals, and animals were supposed to be kept at a controlled distance. Working with Cathy just proved her point.

  She watched as the human opened her eyes and looked around as if trying to m
ake sense of her surroundings. Then her gaze met that of S'Tha and the alien felt a prickle. There was something in the human's eyes...

  “Where am I? Who are you?"

  “I'm S'Tha."

  Cathy moved to sit up, but the restraints on her wrists and chest held her back against the pillows. S'Tha waited with baited breath for her to go into a rage, but it didn't come. Instead, the human asked again, “Where am I?"

  “You are safe,” S'Tha said, not answering her question directly.

  “That's not what I asked.” There was a hint of underlying aggression, and S'Tha sat back, relieved that the female was restrained to her bed. “What happened? Why am I here?"

  “It's a long story, and I don't want to tire you right now. I'll tell you everything later when you are a bit stronger,” S'Tha said evenly in an effort to appease her patient, but she could see it wasn't working.

  “Who am I? What's my name?"

  Cathy's question took her by surprise. She'd expected some of the human's memories to be damaged because of the nanovirus, but she hadn't expected such a complete loss of memory. “You don't know?"

  “No."

  She hesitated. “Your name is Cathy."

  “Oh."

  The name clearly meant nothing to the human, and she was waiting for more questions, but Cathy simply turned her back on her and stared blankly at the wall before closing her eyes.

  S'Tha was quiet for a moment. “How are you feeling?"

  “Fine.” The answer was abrupt.

  “Are you sure? No headaches? Pain?” she insisted.

  “No."

  She knew Cathy was lying, but she didn't understand why. Humans were such illogical and unpredictable creatures—particularly this one. She sensed an anger and darkness in the human's soul, waiting to be released. Suddenly feeling uneasy, she quietly left the room.

  She met Eqin in the kitchen. He'd made himself a huge mug of coffee, and was sipping at it with evident enjoyment. She sneered to herself. It was a disgusting human habit he'd picked up when he first came to the planet. She couldn't stand the smell of coffee, but like everyone else in the facility, she'd learned to tolerate his often-curious behaviour. He looked at S'Tha.

  How is she?

  She sat down on the other side of the table, as far away as she possibly could, to avoid the disgusting smell.

  As well as can be expected. There seems to be some marginal improvement. At least she has regained some of her conscious awareness.

  She watched her younger brother's reaction to the information closely. His gaze skimmed hers, but she couldn't read his expression and she frowned. He'd always been a closed book to everyone in their family. It was as if there was a permanent, impenetrable mental block up, which they simply couldn't negotiate through—no matter how hard they tried.

  He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table, seemingly unaware of her thoughts. She patiently waited for him to say something.

  After a long silence, she leaned forward. She had to speak her mind. Eqin...

  He looked at her over the edge of the mug. Yes?

  Don't you think we made a mistake bringing her to the Facility?

  The look in his eyes was enough to answer her question, and she pressed her lips together. How could he still refuse to accept that he'd made a mistake? Cathy had been there for more than three months. Although there'd been some progress, there'd been too little to make the risk worthwhile. What worried her most was that the human was one of Hasan's experiments. If the Council found out, her career would be ruined. No human was worth that risk. Again, S'Tha tried to move Eqin from his opinion on the human:

  I think we should reconsider her position here. We may have to pass her on to someone else, or to put her back into Earth society. We could place her in one of their institutions and continue our research quietly without endangering our own position here.

  Out of the question. His response was clearly non-negotiable. I want her to be under my direct care.

  Her frown deepened. Perhaps he needed some more proof. She motioned towards a number of small crystal spheres suspended in the corner of the room. One of them glided towards them, and she waved her hand to display a revolving hologram of a human brain. She pointed at the area controlling memory.

  Look at this. This is her long-term memory. See, there is no activity. It is completely dead. She has no history, no past, and she will never have.

  She pointed at another area in the brain.

  Here is her personality and emotions. There's only partial activity, and it has only improved marginally since we brought her here. In fact, most of it has been destroyed.

  Looking at her brother, she leaned over the table, and spoke sharply, She is not who she was, Eqin, and we can't fix it. We are not infallible.

  She moved her hand over the sphere and the hologram disappeared.

  She's staying, Eqin replied.

  She looked at him, perplexed. Had he heard nothing she had just said?

  Eqin, be realistic. We are taking an unwarranted risk. It's not worth it.

  His green eyes suddenly flashed with anger, and his response was harsh, unequivocal. Don't ever say that again, S'Tha. She may not be worth it to you, but she's worth it to me.

  His sudden anger caught her by surprise. Then the expression in her eyes darkened. If she hadn't been sure about it before, she surely was now. Her brother was infatuated with the human.

  She jumped up from her chair.

  You are so stubborn. You are besotted with this woman, and I'm telling you she's not worth it. She motioned the sphere back to its suspended place in the corner. I give you the facts, but you won't accept them. The others aren't going to tolerate this much longer either. You are sitting on a time bomb. The Council will destroy you if they find out.

  He took his feet off the table and stood up.

  And who will tell them, S'Tha? So what if the Council doesn't approve?

  For a few moments, she was speechless. How could he not care what the Council thought? They were the highest authority, and could make or break their careers. Didn't any of that matter to him? Her retort was sharp.

  My career and my people matter more to me than some human. Unlike you, I value these things

  She was fuming with frustration, and stormed out of the room, heading down the passage to her lab where her assistant was already waiting. Her brother was an idiot. Could he not see what he was doing? Clearly, the humans had infected his mind with their immoral thoughts and behaviour. It seemed that their immediate family's concern when they learned that he was to be sent to Earth was justified after all.

  Her assistant, Taluk, didn't immediately notice her when she walked through the doorway. His attention was fixed on a hologram—a presentation of Cathy's brain. It was the same one she had shown Eqin a few moments before.

  Have you found something? She was trying to appear interested, but the words carried no enthusiasm. She didn't believe anything could be found, and she wasn't in the mood to get more bad news. The experiment had been a failure.

  I think so. Taluk looked like a cat that has just been given a bowl of milk, and she puckered her brow as she observed him.

  She walked over to him. You're kidding, aren't you?

  Taluk glanced at her with his usual hauteur. I don't make jokes about my work, he said, offended.

  She ignored his affronted tone. Could he have really found something? What is it?

  Look here ... He pointed at an area in the brain. See this?

  She nodded, not quite sure where the discussion was going. Taluk waved his hand over a second sphere, and another hologram appeared. He directed her attention to it. This is a normal human brain. Can you see the difference?

  She stood closer, comparing the two brains. Barring the fact that Cathy's brain was showing considerably less activity than the other, she couldn't see any obvious difference.

  He had to have noticed her confusion, and with a somewhat patronising smile, pointed at a sec
tion in the hologram of Cathy's brain. Look carefully.

  Then she saw it too. In an area where the normal human brain showed hardly any activity, Cathy's brain was alive and teeming with neural activity. S'Tha was completely bowled over. Had it been a success after all? She could hardly hide her smile. Fame, acknowledgement ... I'm going to be as well-known as Professor Al-Abud...

  * * * *

  When Cathy woke up again, she felt strangely removed from her surroundings. For a while, she lay in her bed listening to the silence to which she had become accustomed. She could sense the presence of other people close by, but she couldn't see or hear them.

  With some effort, she managed to sit up. Her body felt limp and sluggish, and she had a strong awareness that it hadn't been physically active for quite some time. She slid her legs carefully over the side until her feet touched the floor, and then pushed herself up into a standing position, but her legs were unable to carry her weight and collapsed instantly. She groaned as she hit the floor. For a moment, she just lay there, lacking the drive or strength to pick herself up. A crushing depression sank down on her and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. What had happened to her? Who was she and where was she? The questions all hit her simultaneously and she was overwhelmed by their intensity.

  An image of a pyramid appeared in her head and she saw herself walking up to it. Could this be her past? Had she been living at the pyramids? But that would be impossible. She remembered enough to know she lived in a different timeline, but why would that image pop up in her head? Maybe she used to be an actress.

  With sheer determination, she pushed herself up and dragged herself to the chair in the corner, where she curled up folding her arms over her legs in a comforting position.

  She rested her chin on her knees, waiting without knowing for what. Then a part of the wall disappeared and a man entered, apparently unaware she was sitting in the corner. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the empty bed, and she could sense his instant alarm. He looked around and noticed her sitting in the corner. “Oh, you're up,” he said.