Candidate (Selected Book 4)

by Robin Roseau

  "Cooperate," I said.

  "Good answer," she said. "You will stand, facing away, with your feet shoulder width apart and your fingers laced together on the top of your head. Please move slowly, Ms. Hayes."

  "You know who I am."

  "We know your name and we know where we've been told to bring you. We know you arrived since our last shift."

  "You know where we are."

  "Yes, but we won't answer that sort of question. Please slowly stand up and turn to face the back wall, Ms. Hayes."

  I did what I was told, lacing my fingers together and setting them on top of my head. "You're awfully polite for people violating my rights," I said.

  "I was wondering when she'd mention her rights," muttered one of the men. "That took longer than most."

  "About average," said the other man. "And some never say a word."

  "If you're done talking about me..."

  The two women stepped forward. "Do not fight us, Ms. Hayes." This was the other one. Then she knelt down behind me, and I felt her wrap something around my right ankle. When I looked down, I saw she had shackles like I'd seen on the other women. She finished with my ankles and stood up. They shackled my wrists with my hands still in place, but these shackles had tails, so to speak.

  "Lower your hands to your stomach," she said. Once I did, they collected the tails, wrapping them around my waist and locking them behind my back. That was when she said, "We've got her."

  "Right," said the one who had first muttered about rights. I turned my head and watched the two men depart the cell and walk away.

  "Eyes forward, please," said the first woman.

  I snapped back to face the wall, but didn't say anything.

  "We have a hood," she said. "Some of the women begin to panic. Are you claustrophobic?"

  "No, but will I be able to breathe?"

  "Yes. It is mildly stifling, but it's not too bad. We've all worn everything during training."

  "I won't panic, but will you please tell me why I'm here."

  "We can't answer questions like that," she replied. "You will need to take small steps. If you try to take long steps, you'll trip. We'll hold you by the arms, but if you surprise us, we might not catch you before you fall."

  I understand.

  It was the other one with the hood. She slipped it over the back of my head and then lowered it slowly over my face. I began breathing rapidly and tried to calm down.

  "You'll be able to breathe," said the second woman. "I'm sorry, but I have to tighten it. You'll still be able to breathe." Then she did something, and it grew snug around my neck, but they were right. I could breathe, even if it was all very frightening.

  "Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice catching.

  They didn't answer.

  A moment later, they each took an arm. Without words, they turned me, and I began to slowly walk.

  * * * *

  I wouldn't have called it a long walk, but it was more than a few minutes and involved an elevator ride. They warned me, and they never released my arms the entire time.

  "There's a chair at a table," said one of the women. "We'll move you to it. Slow steps." They pulled me forward until my stomach just came into contact with the table, Then they shuffled me sideways and said, "Sit."

  I sat, and I felt the chair immediately swallow my legs. One of them unlatched the chain around my waist, and together they set my hands on the table in front of me. The table swallowed my arms. Then the hood relaxed around my neck, and the woman carefully pulled it from me.

  Without another word, the two of them turned around and walked from the room.

  I looked around. I was seated at a plain table. It wasn't metal. It appeared to be the same material as the walls of my cell, and when I looked, so was the chair. Neither the table nor the chair moved when I pushed on them.

  My legs were encased up past my knees, and there was a "belt" around my waist, growing right out of the chair. In a way, it was like the chairs used during testing, but different at the same time. And my arms were encased the same way.

  I wasn't going anywhere until someone released me.

  The room was of moderate size, the walls plain grey and boring. Looking around, I couldn't see a single door. But at least the ceiling wasn't glass, and there weren't any aliens staring at me.

  Of course, they could have alien cameras pointed at me, and I might not realize it.

  I don't know how long I sat there. It was more than a few minutes but less than an hour. Then, from one moment to the next, an entrance formed in the wall to my left, and a moment later a figure appeared.

  An alien figure.

  She could have passed for a human woman if not for the glowing eyes.

  Catseye.

  We watched each other for a minute, neither of us saying anything, then she stepped fully into the room. The doorway disappeared, and after a moment she took a seat across the table from me. She was carrying a wooden case, and she set it down on the table and looked at me.

  I could have sworn that chair wasn't there before.

  "I am Administrator Brighteyes," she said by greeting. "You are Andromeda Hayes."

  "I'd like to know what you think I did wrong."

  "Nothing."

  "Is it common practice for the aliens to throw women in jail for doing nothing wrong at all?"

  "Yes, actually," she said. "And a few men."

  "This isn't a job offer, is it?"

  "No, it's not."

  "I don't think it's at all coincidence that this happened the day I was fired."

  "It's not," she said. "Although that was four days ago."

  "Four. My roommate-"

  "Has been informed you are out of town, as have your parents. All of them believe this is a job interview with the aliens."

  "But it's not."

  "No, it is not."

  We stared at each other for a while. "Well, are you going to explain what it is, then?"

  "When I first began these interviews, I told everyone in a brisk, efficient fashion why they were here. They all fell behind the conversation three sentences in. I've learned to let the candidate determine the pace of the conversation."

  "Candidate?"

  "Yes."

  "Candidate for what?"

  "You are here as a mating candidate."

  "A what?"

  "You will become mated to one of us."

  "Like hell I will."

  She smiled. "That's what most of the women say. And yet, here you are."

  "Let me put it this way. Over my dead body."

  "I hear that, too. I also hear over my dead body, or over that of the future mate. I also hear threats against the guards. I'd rather you didn't threaten them."

  "You don't mind if I threaten you, but you ask me not to threaten the guards?"

  "I have thicker skin," she explained. "They are human and can't help but react. But they don't always react appropriately, and sometimes it is another woman who suffers for it."

  "Did you just blackmail me, telling me if I'm not polite to the guards, they'll beat one of the other women?"

  "No. When someone is angry, he is not necessarily as kind and gentle as I would rather he be. The guards have never beaten anyone, but they can be brusque. The women in here all feel scared and vulnerable, and I'd rather the guards are able to be as compassionate as possible, under the situation."

  "Are you that insane?" I asked.

  "I have my sanity questioned often," she replied. "Earlier you suggested the timing wasn't coincidence. It wasn't. We know you lost your job, and we know why."

  "Did you have anything to do with it?"

  "No. You would have landed here six years ago, but you were borderline. I chose to let you remain where you were, but I flagged your file. You are not in a serious relationship and you are unemployed. Your parents are remarkably healthy, and there is no one directly dependent upon you for care."

  "So I'm disposable."

  "No. You are ava
ilable."

  "I don't believe that's your decision to make."

  "And yet, here you are," she repeated. "So it appears it is my decision."

  "You have no right!" I screamed.

  "Ah, there we go. Humans always talk about rights, especially Americans."

  "I want my lawyer," I demanded.

  "Ah, I hear that a lot, too," she said. "There are currently two down in the cells. Human laws do not apply in this place."

  I stared. "Where are we?"

  "Still on Earth, if that's what you were wondering," she replied. "We are not, however, in the United States any longer." She smiled. "You had a comfortable flight."

  "The in flight entertainment left something to be desired."

  "Oh, humor," she said. "Actually, the in flight entertainment left nothing to be desired, but of course, you won't remember."

  "Whatever," I said. "I'm not marrying any of you."

  "We'll see," she said. She turned to the wooden box and tapped it with her fingers several times. "I am going to give you some choices."

  "Oh, now I get choices?"

  She opened the wooden box and withdrew from it one of the visors like they used in the testing center. She closed the box and then set the visor on top. She tapped her fingers against the tabletop several times before speaking. "Your first choice. You arrived at an odd time. We are on a cycle here typically lasting two weeks. In a way, you could consider the women here part of a class. The class is midway through the term. Do you understand?"

  "I suppose I do."

  "Your first choice is this. I can tell you nothing, but tomorrow morning, you will be collected from your cell, and a modified version of what typically happens will happen to you. You will go into it knowing nothing more than I've already told you."

  "I take it this involves rape?"

  "No, actually, it doesn't. Your other choice is to ask me to fit this in place. There is a program to play that will explain our normal process. It lasts nearly exactly one hour. But there will be a price."

  "And then tomorrow whatever you're going to do to me will happen, anyway?"

  "Perhaps. Perhaps we will reach another agreement."

  "One where you let me go?"

  "Of course not. But one that offers you more choices."

  "What is the price?" I gestured with my nose.

  "Two simple promises. You will promise to do your best to be polite. And you will promise to engage in no self harm or threats of self harm."

  "You're afraid I'll attempt suicide?"

  "Yes, actually."

  "So whatever is going to happen is so bad that I'm likely to prefer death?" I shook my head. "You're going to give me to one of those assholes who was watching me, and I'm supposed to take it? Fuck you." I began struggling with the chair and table, trying to free myself, but both hugged me tighter, not releasing me. I struggled harder and harder and began screaming at her.

  Nothing I screamed was that creative, but it was certainly heartfelt. The Catseye sat dispassionately until I slumped, panting heavily.

  "So much for the aliens coming in peace," I said. "Fucking lying rapists."

  "No one has raped you," she said. "And actually, no one is going to. You actually have some choices. Our placement rate is 87 percent, and amongst those I personally attend to, it's 100 percent."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Most of the humans who have come through here are now happily mated. Most of them went through an automated process that is largely managed by my aides. A small number have been attended to more directly by me, and every single one is exceedingly happy. If you ask for the visor and agree to my terms, I will oversee your process directly. If not, then I will wash my hands with you and let my aides follow their normal process."

  "What happened to that last 13 percent?" I asked. "Are they dead?"

  "A few may be due to the vagaries of life," she replied. "But we didn't kill them. Some are back home, attempting to live their lives. Some of those are happy; most are not. The rest found someone else."

  "So I could still go home?"

  "That possibility exists, although it is small."

  "It seems like I should tell you to fuck off."

  "You aren't considering the angles."

  "You haven't told me enough to consider."

  "You're a smart woman. Put two and two together. If you don't accept my offer, what is going to happen tomorrow?"

  "You haven't told me."

  "I've told you enough to make an educated guess."

  "You're going to give me to another alien, and he's going to rape me."

  "He's not going to rape you, and it's more complicated than that. But you have the basic idea. And what's going to happen if you accept my offer?"

  I looked down at the visor. I stared at it for a while then looked back up at her. "You said we might reach another agreement."

  She smiled. "Tell me. If your choice is to be given to one of the males, or the chance of some other fate, which would you prefer?"

  "What other fate?"

  She leaned back in the chair and didn't answer. I stared at her for a while, trying to glare. It was hard to be taken seriously when nearly naked and as helpless and vulnerable as I felt.

  "Why aren't I wearing my clothes?"

  "The visor explains," she said. "I'm not answering questions like that. You've heard my price. But I'm a busy woman, so I do hope you'll decide in the next minute or two."

  "Wait," I said. "Just wait."

  "You have everything you need to know to make a decision, Ms. Hayes."

  "Just wait," I said. "You told me your personal success rate is 100 percent. How big a sample size is that?"

  "I admit: it's not very large."

  "More than zero?"

  She made a bark of a noise, and I decided it was how she laughed. "Yes. It would take all my fingers and some of my toes to count. So not many."

  "Compare to how many the other way?"

  "A lot, lot more."

  "Twenty? Fifty?"

  "Add a few zeros to that," she said.

  "Oh shit."

  "I am a busy woman, Ms. Hayes. Have you decided?"

  "Please just wait," I said.

  "For a price."

  "With you there is always a price?"

  "Yes. If you wish me to wait, you will ask politely, and you will either smile or say something nice about me."

  "Seriously?"

  She started to get up.

  "Please!" I said. "Administrator... I'm sorry, I forgot."

  "Brighteyes," she said. "Jasmine Brighteyes. Yes?"

  "Administrator Brighteyes," I said. "Please give me a chance to think." She settled down and crossed her arms. I couldn't conjure a smile, but I said, "Your eyes are beautiful."

  "Thank you," she said.

  "Will you help me, Administrator?"

  "I don't normally do these interviews, Ms. Hayes. That's what employees are for. The fact that I'm sitting here should tell you something."

  "If I send you away, or you grow tired of waiting, then tomorrow you will give me to one of the leering males."

  "Or something like that, yes."

  "If I accept your offer, then you'll explain what's going on, and then you suggested something else might happen."

  "Yes."

  "You also said your personal success rate is perfect."

  "Yes. We've reviewed this already."

  "I think I only have one more question. How many of them were lesbians?"

  She smiled and leaned forward, staring into my eyes. "All of them."

  I felt tears spring to my eyes, I did my best to push them back. I hated crying. I turned my head and stared at the blank wall for a while. "Do I have any other choices?" I asked in a soft voice.

  "Not today you don't."

  I turned back. "I would like to accept your offer."

  She smiled again. "I hoped you would. To be clear, you will do your best to be polite. That means to me and to the guards."

&nbs
p; "What about to whatever man you try to give me to?"

  "If I give you to a man, you're free to be as rude as you want."

  I brightened at that.

  "You also will make no attempt to hurt yourself or threaten to hurt yourself," she added.

  "And you're going to enforce that, how?"

  "You keep your promises," she replied.

  "To be clear, I'm allowed to threaten to hurt you?"

  "And whomever I give you to," she said. "Please don't threaten the guards. It won't do you any good, and we've discussed the harm it causes. They don't really have a choice in what they do, but you don't have to make it worse for them than it already is."

  "Are you going to explain that?"

  "No, but if you are pleasant, sometimes they answer when the mating candidates ask personal questions. If you intend to do so, you may want to wait a few days."

  "I agree to your terms."

  "I want you to state specifically what you are agreeing to."

  "Fine. I will strive to be polite to you and the guards, and I will not use self-harm or the threat of self-harm. I presume both promises have a duration."

  "For your stay here," she said.

  "So once I'm not your problem, you don't care what happens to me?"

  "Actually, I do, but let's worry about the next few weeks."

  "All right."

  "Very good," she said. She picked up the visor. "You know what this is." I nodded. "I will step out while it plays. I will strive to return before it completes, but I may be delayed. I will not leave you overlong."

  I nodded. She stood and leaned across the table. I held still while she slid the visor into place.

  It settled in, making itself at home. The ear buds invaded my ears, and then I couldn't hear anything in the room. Then it brightened slowly.

  I didn't hear Administrator Brighteyes leave.

  Understanding

  I was appalled by what I saw. The opening scene was of an arena -- it looked remarkably like the Coliseum in Rome, although I thought the size was different, and this coliseum was far newer.

  In the center of the dirt arena was a group of sixteen human women. Most of them looked like they'd been taken from their beds, and I realized something immediately. I also looked like I'd been taken from my bed. I didn't think that was coincidence.

  Some of the women were crying. Some looked angry. Some looked determined. Some held weapons. Others didn't.