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[scifan] plantation 02 - dark legion

Page 13

by Stella Samiotou Fitzsimons


  His eyes are darker than ever when he locks them with mine.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “It was not my intention. It was not my plan. I didn’t have all the facts. But as it is, I have no choice.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re scaring me, Wudak.”

  He gets up, walks to me and extends his hand. “Here,” he says, “you can touch me. I won’t shy away.”

  “I don’t want to touch you.”

  “Take my hand, Freya. It’s an order.”

  “I don’t take orders from you,” I say as I rub the receptor in my palm.

  He grabs my hand and holds it for a few seconds with his eyes shut.

  “You’re freaking me out,” I yell fighting to pull my hand from his lethal grip.

  “There, it’s done,” he says and he lets go.

  “Wudak, what is all this?”

  “Don’t trust anyone,” he whispers. “Not even me. You have to find a way to get out of here.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask but he’s already gone.

  19

  I try to get out of bed but everything spins. I sit down and close my eyes trying to recollect my thoughts. Something’s wrong with me, that much is obvious. But what? And why?

  I look around for my clothes. They’re either gone or maybe put in the closet. Who knows who did that or when. Wudak was here, that’s true, but he doesn’t exactly strike me as someone who would want to clean up.

  I drag myself to the closet. I discover a number of dresses, sweaters and fancy shoes but my own clothes are missing. I’ll have to get one of those damned dresses on if I want to get out of this room.

  I pick the one that seems to be the least conspicuous. It’s a blue dress with long sleeves and it goes just above the knee. I choose a pair of blue shoes with two-inch heels. I have no idea how I am going to be able to walk about in them. I’ll demand that my clothes are returned to me or I will blow the whole place up.

  I start taking off my nightgown and then I realize that I don’t remember putting it on. The dizziness returns along with an intense feeling of nausea and I barely have time to run to the bathroom before throwing up.

  As I clean my face and mouth at the sink, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that this is not good. I have been misled by Wudak and Zolkon is not someone to trust. He’s not my ally, he has his own agenda. And he made me sick for some reason.

  The hallway is dark. The doors and windows are closed. I fear I have been locked in but the door to the balcony opens easily and I tiptoe outside. It’s the break of dawn and the sky is a beautiful mix of orange and violet. I step inside the room with the view to the garden trying to figure out how to get down there. As I press on the glass with both hands, I feel it give in and take a step back unsure of what is going on. Then the whole paneling moves out a few feet revealing a staircase between the glass and the floor.

  I go down the stairs and almost slip twice so I take the stupid shoes off and carry them in my left hand. The right hand is clutching onto the receptor. Something doesn’t feel right about the receptor, but then again nothing feels right.

  The garden is absolutely silent and the fact takes me by complete surprise. The fountain turns out to be an illusion, there’s no water flowing, just the projection of water, almost like a mirage. Nothing stirs and nothing makes a peep. There’s nothing here but synthetic, rigid vegetation. When I touch the plants, it feels like I’m touching rocks.

  Then I hear something. It’s ever so slight and I rub my ears hard to make sure they’re not playing tricks on me. A few seconds later, I hear the same sound. This time it’s a bit louder and I can pinpoint its location. It’s coming from the trees in the back.

  I drop the shoes and walk towards the direction of the trees.

  *

  I sit in the armchair where I found Wudak during the night. The spinning sensation has subsided and I start to feel like myself again. I won’t let Zolkon and Wudak know that I feel better. I will play this out as best as I can. I have to figure out what their plan is before I leave this place. And they can’t do anything to stop me. Whatever they have in store for me, I will outsmart them. All those years of living in the wild have not been for nothing. I am resourceful, I am patient. Most of all, I’m in control of my feelings and, therefore, of my receptor.

  My receptor. I like the sound of it. For the first time since I got the receptor, I don’t feel like a misfit. I feel privileged and honored. I am ready.

  I wait patiently for him and when he knocks on the door, I let him in with a sigh of pain.

  “Good, keep that painful look on for Zolkon,” he says. “As for me, I can see right through you.”

  I am taken aback by the confidence in his voice. “Fine,” I say. “If that’s how you want it, that’s how we’ll play it. Why did you come to my room last night? How long did you stay? Who poisoned me? Who put me in bed? Why?”

  “You will soon find out, but I am not allowed to say anything.” He comes closer to me, his face turns dark again. “Your life is in no immediate danger, I can assure you of that. On my honor. On the revolution. Do not fear for your life.”

  “What should I fear? Is Zolkon hoping to steal the receptor from me? It won’t work. Thanks to you, I know what to do.”

  “Let’s go,” he says. “Zolkon’s waiting.” Before we exit, he pauses and whispers, “Remember what I told you last night?”

  “Which part?” I say but I know what he means. I have to find a way to get out of here. And I will. After I am done with Zolkon.

  *

  We find Zolkon waiting for us in a semi-dark room much like a lab. There are devices that I don’t recognize, but also microscopes, scanners and monitors. Zolkon fiddles with a test tube containing some light blue fluid when we enter. He puts it down immediately and opens his arms.

  “Here you are, dear girl,” he says. “How was your night?”

  “Terrible,” I reply. “Something I ate, I guess.” I touch my forehead as if my temperature has risen.

  “Sit, then, sit,” Zolkon says and points at an old desk chair. “We don’t want you to get sick, do we?”

  I sit on the chair and steal a glance at Wudak. Whatever his thoughts might be, they are impenetrable.

  “Did you have anything to eat yet?” Zolkon says.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I could hold anything down.”

  “Let’s hope you’ll feel better soon,” he says. “Now, where’s that beautiful OS-1456?”

  I show it to him but as he moves in to reach it, I close my hand around it. “You know what,” I say. “I think we shouldn’t do this when I feel this lousy. Let’s wait until I feel better.”

  “But of course, of course,” he says. “You should rest. You know, I know a few things about medicine and biology. Not too much, the aliens wouldn’t trust me with such vital knowledge, but they did show me how to test blood for infections and parasites. Here, see?” he says pointing at an automated microscope. “We’ll draw the blood, put it under the lens and we’ll know what’s wrong with you.”

  “No, thank you,” I say and get up. “Wudak will walk me back.”

  “Ah, but that won’t do, that won’t do at all,” Zolkon says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that I need a blood sample from you.”

  “Well, you can’t have it,” I say impatiently and walk away. My nerves are alerted to a danger I cannot quite understand.

  “Get her,” he orders. Wudak doesn’t hesitate. He grabs my arm and forces me to sit back on the chair. I will the receptor to turn on but nothing happens. I try to turn it on manually to no avail.

  “In order for it to work, you would need this,” Zolkon says as he takes something out of his pocket. It’s so small, I can barely see it.

  “Beautiful, don’t you think?” he says as he turns it around in his palm. Now I understand. It’s a microchip.

  “Don’t you worry about your indisposition,” he goes
on. “You’ve been drugged, it will soon pass.” He picks up the test tube with the blue fluid and studies it. “It won’t mess with the test,” he says. “It will all go according to plan.”

  “What plan?” I yell while Wudak holds me down on the chair.

  “Yes, what plan, good question,” Zolkon says. “You see, dear child, I need you. There’s no other way to put it. If you do as I say, everything will be alright. You will be free to go back to your friends, and you and I will be allies forever. You will be able to count on me.”

  He picks up a syringe. “Roll her sleeve up,” he says to Wudak.

  It’s pointless. I can’t fight him, not physically, not with my hands. So I sit back while he’s rolling up my sleeve.

  “What happened to the receptor?” I say.

  “Let’s just say I couldn’t trust you with it. I knew you might try to use it on us. Wudak disabled it on my command.”

  He sinks the needle in my vein and the blood starts flowing inside the syringe. I let him go on with his account of the events as I’m having trouble forming the right words to say.

  “I have no interest in the receptor,” he says. “Just you. You are the real weapon in the war. My weapon.”

  I turn and face Wudak when he lets go of my arm. “What did you do?”

  Zolkon looks at me amused. “He got you to trust him, didn’t he? Beautiful, just beautiful. I should take lessons from him.”

  “What did you have him do?” I say and I can feel a knot in my throat.

  “Having you in the lab with the receptor was no option,” Zolkon says. “Something had to be done about it. There’s a chance the receptor would react to your nerve impulses even when you were asleep which is why we gave you the wine. I believe it worked great, don’t you think, Wudak? I mean, you don’t have any recollection of him taking the receptor from under your pillow and removing its core chip, do you?”

  Now it all makes sense. Everything. I have been trapped. I’m as good as dead. The thought of the arrogance, the nerve and stupidity of my actions freezes me.

  “How did he do that?” I whisper.

  “It’s really easy, do you see that tiny slot on the side of the receptor?”

  I turn the receptor around.

  “Right there,” Zolkon says.

  I see it. It’s the tiniest slot. I don’t know why I never noticed it before.

  “That’s where the chip goes,” Zolkon says.

  I guess that’s why.

  “Once you know how to retrieve it, it’s a matter of seconds.”

  “And the receptor is useless without it,” I murmur.

  “Oh, yes, quite useless. It’s like a human without a nervous system. Or a Sliman. Anything really. No nervous system, no functionality. You can go to your room now. I’ll see you again tomorrow when I return from the plantation. And don’t even think about escaping. The fortress is guarded on the outside and the inside. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “No,” I say. “I won’t go until you tell me why you need me. Are you going to negotiate with the aliens over me?”

  “No, no, far from it. You, my dear, will help me get the Sliman from under the alien grip. In return, you and your little friends will be spared and will be able to live however you want.”

  “How are you going to use me?” I insist.

  “All in good time. You will know soon enough. Wudak, take her back.”

  *

  “Is that what you were sorry for?” I ask Wudak right before he leaves me in the room.

  “That and more,” he says.

  “I suppose you’re not going to tell me what ‘and more’ refers to.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

  “You have every right to be angry with me,” he says.

  “You think so? I should have known better than to trust a single word that came out of a Sliman’s mouth.”

  “I will protect you. That hasn’t changed.”

  “Oh, yeah, and I should believe that because your word is as good as gold.” I sit down and look at the receptor. “It’s a useless toy now. All this effort for nothing. Why didn’t you just take the whole thing?”

  “So that you wouldn’t be alarmed. Remember what I said,” he says but he doesn’t look at me.

  “What, you want me to escape? How do you propose I do that? Are you going with me? Will you fight all your Slimie friends around the spooky castle?”

  “I can’t do that. I’m not going to lie to you anymore.”

  “Too little, too late.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” he says. He goes through my backpack and takes my pulse gun.

  “That’s just great,” I say as he leaves.

  I wait until it gets dark and I sneak out of the room and into the garden. I head straight for the fake plastic trees or whatever it is they’re made of. This is my only option and my only hope.

  20

  I wake up startled by the sound of loud footsteps marching around the fortress. Then the voices follow. They have discovered I didn’t spend the night in the room. I get up slowly and move away from the trees. My knees feel sore and my neck hurts but it’s nothing compared to what I felt when I woke up yesterday.

  I lie down on a bench in the garden where I can clearly be seen. Two Sliman spot me from the windows above and come running down the stairs. They’re about to grab me but stop cold in their tracks and look at each other instead. It’s curious how Sliman are never willing to touch me, grab me, shoot me or stab me. It’s almost as if they know I am a weapon, as Zolkon put it, whatever that may mean.

  Wudak shows up just in time. “What are you doing here? Zolkon—”

  “What? Did he get upset? Did he think I vanished out of thin air?”

  “You don’t want to make him angry, Freya.”

  “Don’t ever call me by my name, do you hear me? There’s no friendship between us, no understanding, no alliance, no nothing.”

  He grabs me by the arm and practically drags me all the way to my room. When we get there, he notices that I’m barefoot and my feet are badly scratched from the friction along the stone pathways and wooden floors.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he murmurs, almost as if talking to himself. He goes to the bathroom and brings back a bowl of water and some bandages. He hands them over. I clean my feet with the water before putting the bandages on.

  “You can go now,” I say.

  “If it were up to me, I’d find a different way to do this,” he says.

  “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Maybe it would be better if we stopped talking to each other,” he says after a brief pause.

  I don’t have time to respond. The door opens and the great Zolkon himself marches in.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” he says. He takes one glance at me and frowns. “My dear girl, look at you, you’re a mess. Get cleaned up, put a nice dress on and come to the lab. Or would you rather have an escort?”

  “No,” I say. “I can manage on my own just fine.”

  “Good, good. I’ll see you in an hour then.” The room fills up with his hideous laughter making the core of my being crawl with disgust.

  *

  My knees shake slightly as I brace myself to enter Zolkon’s lab of horrors. I don’t know what he has in store but I can’t let him think that I’m scared.

  “Ah, so much better,” he says when I walk in. “That’s how I envision a queen, dressed in radiating white and wearing a confident smile. Sit, sit.”

  He points at that old chair again. I sit down and straighten the dress on my thighs. It was a pain to put on and a pain to sit in. It’s really tight around the waist and thighs and leaves my back naked. I feel like I’ve been stuck inside a hose.

  “Since I’m obviously at your mercy,” I start, “where’s the harm in telling me what you plan to do with me? What is it that makes me such a special weapon in your fight for independence?”

&n
bsp; “Fair enough,” he says. “It’s not an unreasonable request. Let me check that test tube first.” As he says this, he opens what seems to be a small freezer and takes out a tube that contains something brownish.

  “My blood, I guess,” I say.

  “Yes, yes, but so much more than that also. It’s been mixed with a binder that will let us test it for compatibility. So that we are absolutely certain.”

  “Compatibility with what?” I ask alarmed.

  “The embryo of course,” he says laughing.

  Something drops in my stomach. “What embryo?” I ask, shell shocked.

  “Wudak told you that you’re an alien host,” he says as he opens the tube and lets a drop of brown blood land under the lens of the microscope.

  “He also told me that’s the reason you don’t want aliens to get to me,” I say trembling now.

  “Oh, yes, it’s true, I’d never let the aliens capture you.” The smile disappears from his face. “I’d rather have you killed first,” he says coldly. Then, almost immediately, the smile returns. “We don’t have to worry about that though. The aliens don’t know about any of this.”

  He closes one eye and uses the other to examine the sample under the microscope. Then he picks up the test tube and empties its content in a different glass tube that’s connected to some type of small data processor.

  “This is the compatibility analyzer,” he announces. “It will let us know soon enough.”

  “If you can do that, how come you can’t reproduce Omicron 5?” I ask.

  “Omicron 5!” he exclaims with an amused expression. “You know a lot. But, this is pretty much the only thing I can do. Analyze blood samples. I’ve prepared for this moment for a long time. Everything you see here I had to steal from discard bins at the plantation labs. Omicron 5 is just about the most complicated formula ever invented in the known universe. It would require knowledge and technology that is far beyond me or any Sliman.”

  “I still don’t know what you’re planning to do with me.”

  “Okay, here it is. You are going to give me an alien baby. Then I will let you go. I will raise that baby until he’s old enough to use the alien sensory technology. Then… well, you needn’t worry about the rest.”

 

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