Alien Bride (Love, Drugs, and Biopunk)

by McGill, Brie

  He felt a pang of tenderness from Ninkasi; she lifted her hand to reach out to him, but quickly pulled it away.

  Pretending he didn’t notice, Orion strode briskly ahead.

  A part of him enjoyed the cavern, a mysterious contrast to the mechanized sterility of Echidna’s facility; chunks of crystal jutted from the earthen walls, glowing fuchsia and neon green. Clusters of hairy lichen clung to the ceiling and twinkled with a periwinkle glow. The silver stones beneath them shimmered against the muted light.

  Orion paused, looking back to Ninkasi, who had fallen behind.

  She kept one hand on her stomach, and slowly plodded ahead with a labored breath. Even in the dim light, her face looked pale and sweaty.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Shall we rest?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. Let’s. . . get to town.” She winced and forced a smile.

  Orion observed her sternly, unconvinced.

  Ninkasi shook her head again, dismissing him with a wave. “It’s nothing.”

  “You know, Orion.” Aleister plunged a hand deep inside his coveralls, fumbling around with his inner thigh, the same place he secretly strapped his explosives. “You never talked to me about any of this.” He retrieved a small item, unwrapping crinkly parchment to reveal a homemade granola bar. “Not once. Ever.”

  He jilted his head away with a grimace. “It has nothing to do with me.”

  Aleister crunched on his snack. “It has everything to do with you.”

  Orion crossed his arms. “Does not.”

  “Man!” He waved the granola bar at his friend, gesturing to the caverns. “You were born here!”

  “I. . . was conceived. . . in a fucking test tube!” Orion charged at Aleister and grabbed him by the suspenders, body-checking him into the earthen wall. “And I would have never had to think about it if you hadn’t put that shit down my throat!” He clenched Aleister’s suspenders, pulling him up toward his face, and slammed him into the wall.

  Aleister winced against the impact, staring Orion unwaveringly in the eyes.

  Teeth gritted, Orion became aware of his sweat, his breath, as he held Aleister in an unbreakable grip against the wall.

  They stood in silence, staring. Neither moved, neither blinked.

  Ninkasi’s cough echoed through the cavern, a considerable distance away from them.

  Releasing Aleister, Orion looked over his shoulder.

  Ninkasi stood close to the station, hunched forward, hands on her knees.

  Orion sped down the path, stopping at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not okay.”

  She peered at him with glassy eyes, shoulders heaving. “I think, this entire ordeal. . .” She lifted a hand to her chest, and her balance faltered.

  Orion caught her in his arms.

  “It’s taken a toll on me.” She hung her head, smiling weakly. “I wasn’t expecting. . . Haven’t been home for. . .” She leaned into Orion, trying to muster a solid footing. “Noah. . . must think I’m dead. . .”

  He slung her arm around his shoulder. “There’s a town up ahead.” He shot Aleister a condemning glance. “Apparently. We’ll rest.”

  He held her body tightly against him, his other arm wrapped around her waist, and they tottered ahead.

  Ninkasi hung onto him, strength waning.

  Aleister waited for them with arms crossed. “Muffin, you'll make it?”

  She nodded once, exhausted.

  Aleister shrugged, resuming a regal air. “Anyway, my point is, you need to stop acting like this isn’t your heritage.”

  Orion cursed him with his eyes. “Aleister, enough.”

  “This is your inheritance!” He flung out his arms. “This world! All of it!”

  He cast his eyes on the ground. “I claim none of it.”

  “You’re claiming all of it.” Aleister stared at him matter-of-factly. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t know. You wouldn’t care. And you sure as hell wouldn’t want to blow it up.”

  Orion remained silent.

  Shoving his hand down his pants, Aleister groped for what Orion assumed was another granola bar.

  Ninkasi’s body went limp, collapsing in his arms.

  Orion bashed through the doors to a shadowy pub with his shoulder, carrying Ninkasi in his arms. “This woman needs a doctor!” Barging through a curtain of glittering white lichens, he narrowed his eyes, studying the crowd by the dim light of colorful chunks of crystal jutting haphazardly from the floor.

  Decorously befitted men in brocade vests, long-tailed jackets, and gold-tipped boots huddled in small throngs chatting quietly, some wearing glasses, others wearing white gloves. They sipped ale in silver mugs with utmost propriety.

  The jangle of bracelets near the floor drew Orion’s attention to a nubile woman on all fours, dressed only in chains, collars, gold jewelry and exaggerated makeup, acting as a passive footstool for the man closest to her.

  Blinking, he scanned the room again, and realized there were countless unclothed women led by chain and leash, forced to serve food and drink, forced to serve the other men however they pleased.

  Orion’s hand balled into a fist: he sensed the exploited girls were captured from above—but none of the men looked like they had once seen the light of day.

  Orion knew them when he saw them.

  He refused to leave Ninkasi unattended.

  The men noted Orion’s rude entrance with raised eyebrows, but it was not enough to interrupt discussion.

  One continued reading his copy of Jambu Gossip, unphased. The title read, “Techthonic Innovations’ tripling stock prices cause late CEO to rise from the dead for celebration! Reality show diva Pinki Seth celebrates his reanimation with a kiss!”

  Aleister silenced the room with a booming declaration. “This woman requires medical attention immediately!”

  Orion’s blood ran cold: Aleister spoke in his mother’s language, and he spoke it perfectly, complete with complex honorifics and native inflection.

  When had Aleister learned to speak the tongue? Orion picked up fragments passively, eavesdropping over the course of a lifetime; but Aleister spoke with perfect formality, and the men in the room appeared equally stunned.

  “She is dying!” Aleister gestured to Ninkasi. “She needs your help!”

  Orion gently placed her body on the table, taking care to support her head.

  Ninkasi was unconscious: her breath came quickly, in rough, shallow gasps.

  He watched Ninkasi with bated breath, fearing it was only a matter of time before she asphyxiated.

  The men in the room remained mysteriously reticent to offer help; some shifted in unease, wearing sour grimaces.

  One man sitting nearby leaned into a companion’s ear and whispered, “He lets it run free.”

  Another shook his head, making a quiet commentary in disgust. “They dare to dress it like the others.”

  A third man’s brow warped with worry and he murmured, “He puts it where we eat!”

  Aleister threw his hands into the air, enraged by the nonplussed response. “Would you let a woman die here?!” His voice cracked, exasperated; striding forward, he poked a man in the chest. “Will you do nothing to help while she suffers before you?”

  “It is a grave violation of the law” —a man beside Aleister stood up, seizing his wrist, raising a challenging eyebrow— “for a mutt such as yourself to travel these caverns.”

  Another man rose. “Indeed, it is an ill fate for trespassers.”

  A third nodded. “Ill fate, yes, indeed.”

  Orion climbed onto a chair, towering over everyone in the room. Clenching a fist, he spat his broken second language with rage. “More bad fate if you defy! Holy commanding, every places be feel! Son of Echidna!”

  The crowd stared at him blankly.

  Tilting his head, Aleister stared ponderously at Orion. Pointing a finger, he addressed the crowd. “The punishment is grave. . . for those who dare to defy the bloodlin
e of Echidna!”

  Surprised gasps circulated through the room.

  “Her son was a defect.”

  “I thought he was dead.”

  “I heard she recycled him.”

  One man in the back of the room slammed his fists against the table and stood up. Glowering indignantly, he marched to the doorway and gestured to Aleister. “Bring the girl. We haven’t much time.”

  Orion scooped her up without a second thought, turning to follow Aleister and the stranger. Glancing once over his shoulder, he felt uneasy in the wake of ogling, disapproving bystanders, and cowering women used as furniture.

  He couldn’t fight everyone’s battles; he cared only for Ninkasi.

  “Place her on the chesterfield.” The mustachioed man from the pub, a gaunt, ghastly gentleman, with bedraggled black hair hanging to his waist, looked to Orion with intense eyes. “She requires a blood product.”

  Orion knelt, resting Ninkasi on the jacquard-woven sofa. “You speak Jambutian.”

  Her breaths were infrequent, spastic; each time she choked for air, he feared it would be her last breath.

  “Renwick!” The man reached to a mahogany hutch with ornate crystal panes, and swiped a silver bell. “Renwick!” He jangled the bell furiously. “Renwick, guests! There are guests!” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “We are educated, you know.” He tipped his head forward, taking a moment of silence; then he wagged the bell above his head as if his life depended on it. “REN-WICK—!”

  Orion might have found the man’s behavior more unnerving, if he weren’t so preoccupied with Ninkasi. He knelt beside her, clasping her hand.

  If anything terrible befell her—anything more terrible than what already had befallen her—it was his fault. He was responsible.

  And he felt like a moron for—what—trying to push her away? He was on drugs while he did it, but the drugs didn’t make him do it; he acted upon his own pure stupidity, fucked or sober.

  The man jangled the bell weakly. “You must forgive my manners. My name is Wolfram.” He shook Aleister’s hand.

  Orion met them with a sarcastic smile.

  “I took in Renwick as a matter of charity.” Wolfram lifted a hand to his face. “The others assumed he was lame, but I suspected he was merely afraid.” He paused. “Plus, anyone seeking a boy this age would want him for precisely one purpose. I believe no one on this earth should ever be subject to—”

  A fragile boy in white robes, no more than twelve, timorously descended the stair, staring like a frightened fawn.

  “Renwick, it’s urgent.” Wolfram enunciated his words. “Please fetch my silver chest from the drawing room.” He pointed upstairs.

  The boy nodded once, and lit up the stairs.

  “I hope it doesn’t offend you.” Wolfram nodded at the boy. “But I do allow my servants the luxury of dress in the privacy of my own home.”

  Aleister tilted his head sideways, perplexed. “None taken?”

  “Some say it’s soft-hearted.” Wolfram cleared his throat. “May I ask what brings you to our humble city?” He approached the sofa, and stood with arms crossed, overlooking Ninkasi. “Is it true Echidna has a son? What business could he have with us?”

  Orion couldn’t tear his eyes from Ninkasi: if he lost her, he didn’t know what he would do. He had been so lost in his own head, so lost in his own world, he hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate her.

  He rested his forehead against her chest. To his chagrin, she was the only living person who offered him any sense of companionship—but he was too focused on his own damned past to realize it.

  And what now if it was too late?

  “My company was hired to do a bit of maintenance on Echidna’s building.” Aleister removed the lid on a ceramic dish, and helped himself to a handful of candies. “But what we didn’t realize was how deep the facility’s basement actually went. Or” —he popped a candy into his mouth and crunched— “how ramshackle the entire facility had become. Most of the wiring in that place?” He waved a hand above his head and laughed. “Obsolete fifty years ago!”

  Wolfram studied Aleister curiously.

  “It was like all that money she should have reinvested in repairs, in maintenance, in infrastructure. . .” Aleister bit into another candy, and stared at Wolfram with foreboding eyes. “She funneled it all into cloning projects, instead.”

  Wolfram cast an uneasy glance at Orion. “Is it true this man is her son?”

  Orion shut his eyes.

  Aleister nodded, chomping, chewing.

  Wolfram pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “It will cause quite the uproar in town. Many of the others are already incensed by your presence, by your disregard for custom.”

  “Look, buddy, we’re not here to sightsee. We didn’t plan on coming here at all.” Aleister crossed his arms. “All we need is a way to get the fuck out of here. We came in through Echidna’s facility, but we can’t leave that way, because we blew up the exit, and a huge fucking giant who wants to eat our intestines is in hot pursuit. All I want is for the three of us to return to the surface—alive.” He stashed the remaining candies in his pocket. “If there’s any way you could help us achieve that goal, I’d be incredibly grateful.”

  The old house creaked and groaned beneath the boy’s footsteps. Renwick duteously transported a mighty silver treasure chest in his arms, leaning backward as he walked, struggling to withstand the enormity of the box.

  “Fantastic, Renwick, thank you.” Wolfram scooped the box from his arms and affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair. “Won’t you fix some tea for our guests?”

  The boy raised his eyes to cast him a quick glance and scampered through the house, presumably toward the kitchen.

  Wolfram strode toward the sofa, kneeling beside Orion, and placed the chest on the floor. He flipped a dial through a series of combinations and popped open the lid, procuring a medieval, high-powered injection device the size of a shotgun with pistons, gears, and pressure valves. “Fortunately, the girl’s condition is easily remedied.” He selected a glass tube containing a violet fluid, and loaded it into the top of the device with a click.

  Orion curled his lip and cast a disparaging stare. “What the hell is that?”

  “The atmosphere this deep into the earth. . .” Wolfram gently rolled the sleeve of Ninkasi’s robe up to her shoulder, and reached into the chest, procuring a potion bottle of electric red liquid. “Is suitable only for those who possess the blood of the Tall Ones.”

  Aleister crossed his arms and loomed behind Wolfram, scrutinizing him.

  “The precise composition of trace metals in their blood allows for adequate respiration in an otherwise inhospitable climate.” He pulled the crystal cork from the bottle, and dabbed a cotton ball with the liquid, smearing it against Ninkasi’s arm. “The surface dwellers lack these elements, and therefore suffocate quickly.” He pumped a crank on the device that hissed with increasing pressure.

  "There's one thing I've always wondered about the Tall Ones." Aleister knit his brow. “Why the fuck do they have wings?”

  Orion jerked his head away, irritated by the conversation. “Can we help her?” He placed a hand on Ninkasi’s chest, nerves wracked by her erratic breathing.

  “Interestingly, the blood composition of the Tall Ones was retained, even through reckless outbreeding of hybrids.” Wolfram cranked the device once more, illuminating a panel of green lights on its side, and glanced momentarily at Aleister. “I presume that’s how you fare well in this climate, for you bear none of our physical handicaps.”

  “Handicaps?” Aleister raised an eyebrow.

  Wolfram meticulously positioned the needle-point tip of the device against Ninkasi’s upper arm. “Our attempts at cloning to reproduce have proven inefficient, resulting in deterioration over time.” Pulling the trigger, he released the device’s needle with the force of a compound bow, penetrating her arm with a hiss of steam and a sickening squish. “I am but a shadow of my former self.” H
e closed his eyes, shrugging wistfully. “To remain robust, we must interbreed with the surface dwellers; however, in doing so, our celestial capacities diminish over time. In continually breeding with terrestrial inhabitants, we become increasingly like them.” The purple liquid from the gun drained slowly into Ninkasi’s arm. “If we choose not to clone, we lose our heritage forever.”

  Aleister frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Wolfram pulled the gun away. “You have the body of a surface dweller, for all intensive purposes. Your special abilities, which may surface from time to time, have become vestigial.”

  Aleister rubbed his chin. “My Auntie Bernadette had prophetic dreams.”

  Ninkasi sucked in a sharp breath, wheezing while unconscious.

  Orion lurched over her, steadying her shoulders with a firm grip. He glowered at Wolfram with distrust.

  “The Tall Ones can do many things.” Wolfram tucked the gun into the silver box and snapped it shut. “They can communicate without words, intuit emotions, manipulate energy with thought. Their level of technological understanding far surpasses—”

  “They are wicked.” Orion cut him with a sharp gaze. “They care not for what belongs to this earth.”

  Wolfram pursed his lips. “They do not contemplate beauty or harmony in the same manner as the surface dwellers.” He hung his head and closed his eyes. “It is a sin, but I love them. It is why I am undyingly fascinated with them; I cannot help myself. Excessive austerity and calculation chill my soul. The tender simplicity tempted me, damned me—”

  Orion tugged Ninkasi’s sleeve down so it covered her arm, ignoring Wolfram.

  Renwick returned, silent, offering a tray of tea with a silver teapot and rose-painted porcelain teacups.

  “Thank you, my boy.” Wolfram poured a cup of tea, and passed it to Aleister. He offered a second cup to Orion.

  Orion ignored him.

  Wolfram patted Renwick on the head and took the tray, dismissing the boy.

  The boy darted from the room with soundless footsteps, disappearing like a ghost.

  “I saw these beautiful creatures, these surface dwellers.” Wolfram closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling with remorse. “In my heyday, I had the strength, the power, and thereby the gall to leave my home to join them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I imagined utopia, lush forests with your warm and colorful culture, the notion of family and the love of a woman—woman, what a mysterious creature!—enhanced by the limitless power of our technology. I could know this terrestrial life and its simple pleasures, and those that previously struggled to survive on this earth would want for nothing. I imagined it would be the perfect union, our knowledge and their paradise”