Collected (Selected Book 1)

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Collected (Selected Book 1) Page 8

by Robin Roseau


  "Nice trick," I said.

  The woman sat and glanced at the tablet she carried.

  "You are Sapphire Fletcher."

  "Yes. How did the aliens buy your soul?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "I heard about a case of cystic fibrosis and another case of alcoholism. What did they do to buy your soul?"

  "Oh, I see. They explained to me why they need women like you."

  "Women? No men?"

  "Men, too, although not as many. And I don't see the men, only the women."

  "How many women?"

  "One in ten thousand of the ones we test."

  I stared. "Lucky me. How do you keep that quiet?"

  "The official story is you're being offered a job and have decided to accept it. It is known the aliens don't offer twice and require immediate answers."

  "This doesn't feel like a job offer."

  "It's not."

  "Am I being taken for medical experiments? Or worse?"

  "No."

  "I'm never going home again, am I? I'll never talk to my sister or parents again."

  "There's a chance. I'll come to that."

  "A chance?"

  "It's not a good chance."

  "I see."

  "I need to take a sample. Will you cooperate?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "I'll take my sample regardless, but it is less unpleasant if you cooperate."

  "Fine." She prepared the swab, and I opened my mouth. It took only a moment before she had a verified identity.

  "What would you have done if I hadn't been me?"

  "Found out who you were and then given you drugs that induce several days of amnesia."

  "Pragmatic," I said. "I have to go to the bathroom."

  "Soon."

  "I'm getting desperate. Are you even going to introduce yourself?"

  "I thought you were getting desperate. Do you have time for introductions?"

  "You're not as funny as you think you are."

  "I know." She paused. "I am Agent Bower."

  "Do you have a first name, Agent?"

  "Melissa."

  "Pretty name," I said. "Tell me, Melissa, do you enjoy selling out innocent women?"

  "Tell me, Sapphire. Do you believe you can say anything to me I haven't heard before?"

  I cocked my head. "Don't you care what you're doing to me?"

  "I do, actually. But there is need."

  "Need. And so I am to be fed to this need?"

  "Something like that. The longer you spar with me, the longer before you will have access to proper facilities. Of course, you can always simply let go. It's your dignity, not mine."

  "You're a cold one."

  "I know."

  I sighed. "What do you intend to do with me?"

  "What am I am about to tell you is not well-known, and if you should secure your freedom, you will be unable to share this information."

  "I see."

  "There's a war."

  "There are always wars."

  "The aliens are at war."

  I stared. "They said they came in peace."

  "They are not at war with us. They are at war with other aliens."

  I blinked several times. "I'm pretty sure I would make a particularly poor soldier. I'm pretty sure there are far better choices."

  "They do not want you as a soldier. Quite the contrary, actually." She took a breath and held it before letting it out noisily. "Interstellar travel is slow, relatively speaking. Settled worlds are far between. Most of the aliens in nearby space are thousands of light years from their home worlds."

  "They can't go home."

  "No."

  "Why did they come so far?"

  "To protect us."

  "From these other aliens?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm not sure I believe that."

  "And to prevent us from joining on the wrong side."

  "Now that I can believe."

  "And to prevent the wrong side from taking this planet and its resources."

  "If you can travel between the stars to wage war, planets are a dime a dozen."

  "Perhaps," she said. "It's a slow war. Battles are fought far from home."

  "Far from our home?"

  "Well, not forever. The aliens have offered to protect us."

  "From the other aliens."

  "Yes."

  "But these are the aliens that kidnap innocent women. I'm not sure we're on the right side."

  "Humanity picked a side. Now the pragmatic choice is to do our best for the side we picked. No one asked my opinion before picking a side."

  "What do they want with me?"

  She paused then backtracked in her explanation. "The aliens in our sector of space cannot go home. It's too far."

  "So you said."

  "We're the only sentient beings in the immediate neighborhood."

  "Yes? So?"

  "They're lonely."

  I stared. "I'm going to be some sort of mail order bride?"

  "Yes."

  Disbelief

  "You're insane. They're insane. We're not the same species. I'm pretty sure I can't perform the duties of a bride."

  "They will alter your reproductive system to make you compatible with your new mate."

  I stared at her for a while before turning away. I sat there for a long time before I finally asked in a small voice, "Is there any way out of this for me?"

  "Yes. A small chance."

  I turned back to face her. "Like, if I'm not truly compatible."

  She paused. "No. You understand: there are many difference species of aliens."

  "Yes, I understand that."

  "They come with differing psychological needs in a mate."

  "So if my psychology isn't a match-"

  "No, that's not it. Their own psychological needs must be met. Let me explain further. Some wish a mate who comes willingly."

  "Oh god. And some want conquest."

  "Yes."

  I sighed. "Why me?"

  "I don't know. There was something in your testing."

  I wondered if Moirai was betraying me. I wondered if she were recruiting me. Or maybe it was something else entirely. I closed my eyes for a while, shutting Agent Bower out. She didn't rush me. But finally I opened my eyes. "Tell me the rest. What do I have to do to go home?"

  "You have a choice. You can cooperate. You can agree to pick a mate or allow yourself to be picked, but then to accept your fate willingly."

  "And I would go to a species that prefers a willing mate."

  "Yes."

  I paused, and somehow she knew I had another question. "I met one of the aliens."

  "I know."

  "Is she one of the races that wishes a willing mate? Because I'm really sure I'm not compatible with a three-gendered, saber-toothed cat."

  "I do not believe the person in question has that particular hope."

  "Person?"

  "They are people. They just look different."

  "Whatever." I sighed. "And if I choose to not cooperate?"

  "There are competitions. You would be entered into them. If you win, you are given choices."

  "Including the choice to go home?"

  "Yes, including the choice to go home. I must tell you, the odds are deeply against you."

  "Are these battles to the death?" I thought about it. "Some sort of gladiator fight?" I remembered my dreams, and now I was really wondering where they had come from.

  "It wouldn't do any good to let you die. No, the battles are not to your death, and we hope not to the death of the warriors who fight for you. They are our allies in the war, after all."

  "I'm not sure they're my allies." I turned away again. "I don't want to do this."

  "I know. I don't blame you."

  "But you're going to make me do this anyway."

  "Yes."

  "You're a bitch."

  "I know. Do you see the necessity?"

  "No."

  "Let me ask you somet
hing else. Do you recognize the path we were on, here on Earth?"

  "You're talking about pollution?"

  "Energy. Wars. Overpopulation. Dwindling oil supplies. All of that."

  I sighed. "Yes."

  "What do you think was going to happen?"

  "The alien I met told me what she believed."

  "What did she tell you?"

  "That she thought Earth would have been dead in another hundred years, if they hadn't intervened."

  "And what do you believe? Are you willing to state you're sure she's wrong?"

  I sighed. "I don't know."

  "I will tell you something else. ISIS was able to obtain a nuclear weapon."

  "What?"

  "The aliens took it away from them. They have helped the Russians dispose of a portion of their arsenal, and they have removed every warhead from any politically unstable region. They told both North Korea and Iran to stop all efforts to make a bomb. Or else."

  "Did they stop?"

  "The aliens have said so, and they seem to be able to tell."

  I didn't say anything. Agent Bower gave me time to think about everything then asked, "So, is your alien wrong?"

  "I don't know. I admit times were grim."

  "But not your problem?"

  "I don't see you volunteering to carry a few alien babies." I looked her up and down. "I suppose that's why they only test us until age thirty-five."

  "And as you can guess, I'm well over that age. For what it's worth, I volunteered. They turned me down. No, I don't know why. Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's something else." She paused. "I'd kill to be in your place."

  "Yes. This chair is comfy."

  "You know what I mean."

  "Why?"

  "I've always wanted to be an astronaut, and I've always wanted children. I can't, but I believe they could fix that. They've taken other women who have had trouble bearing children. I don't know what happens to them."

  "I have a career. Aspirations. I don't want to be a soldier's wife." I looked away and began crying quietly. "He's going to have to rape me. You understand that, don't you?"

  "You don't know everything yet. There isn't one contest. There is a series."

  "You said you would volunteer."

  "I would, but even then, I would volunteer to be courted. There is still a competition for my affections. Or yours."

  "I could say no."

  She smiled. "You could try. I think they cheat."

  "And if I don't volunteer?"

  "It is the same. You will allow them to court you. They must still win your affections. There will be no rape. Of that, we have been assured."

  She paused. "You have needs. You will be taken to a room. It is much like the room where you experienced your testing. Once there, you may see to your needs. Food is brought. You will have the opportunity to learn more before you make your decision. You will have up to three days to decide."

  Once she said that, a drawer opened in the wall not far to my left. Agent Bower stood and gently removed my glasses. I didn't try to fight her. Nor did I fight when she withdrew Geordie's visor from the opened drawer and slid it over my eyes.

  It took only a few seconds for it to fit into place.

  After that, I was blind and deaf. The chair slowly released me, and then two pair of hands clasped my arms. Once I was entirely free, I was pulled to my feet. I went where I was led.

  * * * *

  We arrived... somewhere. The people holding me pressed me face first against a wall, and the wall wrapped partially around me, just like the chair. Then I felt hands working the handcuffs, and a moment later, my wrists were freed -- although I was still held in place by the wall.

  Then, for the first time in several minutes, I heard sound -- Agent Bower's voice. "Ms. Fletcher, you will remain here for three days. By the end of those three days, you will make your choice. You may use this time however you choose. If I were in your position, I would offer myself to the chair and request an education. But if you wish to remain ignorant, that is your choice."

  That was the last time I heard her voice. The wall held me for another minute before it began to release me. But then the visor lightened, and I could see. And then the wall finished releasing me.

  I stepped immediately away, and by the time I had taken two steps, I could not have identified the section of wall that had held me from any other section.

  I looked around. I was in a room that could have been the same room as before. It resembled a hotel room, in a way, although the only furniture was the chair, waiting for me, and the wall that had been a window before was now blank.

  "I don't even get an interesting view?" I called out. There was no answer.

  I had needs, and I was long past requiring them to be filled. I hurried to the bathroom.

  I spent a long time there. What else was I going to do? I was temporarily cried out, but I was sure that wouldn't last.

  I wanted to throw things. I wanted to hit someone. Oh, I really wanted to hit someone. Several someones, starting with everyone from the original testing center followed, one by one, with everyone I'd spoken with today.

  I wasn't sure where Moirai was on that list, but she was near the top.

  I paced back and forth before the mirror for a while, getting myself worked up.

  But there was no one here on whom I could vent my frustration.

  "You bitches!" I screamed. It didn't make me feel even a tiny bit better. "I hope you all rot in hell."

  I grew bored in the bathroom and left to explore the rest of my cell, for that's surely what it was. I didn't need three days. I was going to fight this every step of the way, and if some alien man thought he was going to get me to spread my legs for him, he had another think coming.

  I'd rip from his body whatever sort of protuberance he had before I let him touch me with it.

  I prowled, but beyond the chair, there wasn't a thing to see.

  "You could at least give me a view! You could give me something to do!"

  No one answered my yells.

  I banged against the walls for a while, beginning about where the exit should be. Nothing, of course.

  I wondered if they were monitoring me. I wondered if they would notice if I became violent. I wondered if they would notice if I became self-destructive.

  I banged on the walls again, alternating between hitting with a raised fist and a foot. Both hurt, and there was no response to the noise I made.

  "You're all a bunch of assholes!"

  Finally I slumped to the floor, my back to the wall.

  * * * *

  Time passed. It wasn't long enough for me to require the bathroom again, so it couldn't have been more than a few hours, and perhaps it was far less than that. But then there was a noise from my right, and when I turned, there was a tray of food sitting on the floor. I stared at it. I never heard or saw anyone deliver it.

  Damned visor!

  But I was hungry, so I crawled over to the tray and looked at it. It was a simple breakfast: bacon, eggs, toast, and juice. And propped on the tray was a note, addressed to me.

  "Oh, I get the mail. That's just swell."

  I grabbed one of the pieces of bacon and popped it into my mouth. I washed it down with some of the juice. And then I picked up the note.

  It was a simple piece of paper, folded in half to form a little tent. And the note was brief. "If you wish mental stimulation, use the chair."

  "Bitch!" I screamed, balling the paper and throwing it across the room.

  But I ate the breakfast, although when I was done with a plate, I threw that across the room, too. Each plate made a satisfying sound as it hit the wall, but unfortunately, not the satisfying sound of breakage.

  "Bitches!" I screamed again.

  I finished breakfast and returned to the bathroom to clean up. I stared into the mirror for a while. I wondered if it was a real mirror or if the visor just made it look like a mirror. I decided there wasn't any way for me to test that.

&nbs
p; I already knew I couldn't remove the visor, but then I gave myself several minutes of trying anyway.

  It hurt, and so eventually I quit.

  But I screamed epithets at the walls.

  I paced around for a while, stopping now and then to stare into the mirror. I screamed. I paced. I stared.

  "Fuck!" I screamed.

  * * * *

  I eyed the chair.

  "Fuck all of you!"

  I climbed into the chair anyway. But it sat there, inert. I squirmed around, trying to grow comfortable. Nothing.

  "What the fuck. You promised mental stimulation."

  And at that, words appeared in the air in front of me.

  "You're forgetting a step."

  I stared at the words. "What step?"

  "Think, Ms. Fletcher."

  "Fuck you."

  The words disappeared.

  "Wait! Come back! Please. What step?"

  Fresh words appeared. "Your clothing interferes with the chair."

  "I wore clothes during my medical exam."

  "That was a brief period. This will be somewhat longer, will it not?"

  I stared at the words. "You're just trying to get me naked."

  "Your clothing will be waiting for you."

  "How about jeans and a blouse, and a good pair of tennis shoes?"

  The words didn't change this time. They hung there. But when I sat more upright, they moved, remaining about three feet in front of me.

  "Fine," I spat. "You all suck."

  I climbed from the chair and slowly disrobed. With each piece, folded and set into a pile on the floor, I muttered obscenities about the aliens and about the humans helping them to do this to me.

  I climbed back into the chair.

  And, like a good alien chair, it was warm and welcomed me into its embrace. It waited until I had squirmed around a little, growing comfortable, and then it began to encase me, just like it had before.

  "I don't know why I'm doing this," I muttered. "You all suck," I repeated.

  But I did know. Not only was I bored, but I was on a mission. Agent Bower had promised an education, and the chair was the way to get it. I hoped the education she had offered included hints on how to beat this.

  Or at the very least, I wanted to know if it were hopeless. I wasn't going to become a brood mare for the aliens. That wasn't happening. Nope, nope, nope.

 

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