40. My, Oh My
When Dervinias arrived at his house, Cheverly got out of her car and walked toward him.
“You took a big risk showing up here. What do you want?” he asked.
“Cheese, Dervinias. I need to know your plans—for me . . . and for Michael.” Her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and she wore her red coat. Cheverly radiated youth and beauty.
He smiled. She was the best of the best of all his followers. Dervinias wanted her to be the mother of his new race. He picked her up, in his arms and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Many passionate minutes later, their lips separated. Chev’s breath came quickly, her heart pounding against his chest.
Dervinias studied her face a moment before he said, “Why don’t I take you inside and demonstrate.”
“It’s about time,” she said, pressing her mouth to his again.
41. Owner Of A Lonely Heart
Venus struggled to wake numerous times. Each instance brought with it pain, a pressure of some kind, and an overwhelming sadness, which sent her back into the blackness. No dreaming, only emptiness. She had no idea how long they kept her in such a state. But she wasn’t dead.
I still have time.
When she finally did come out of the darkness, it was to a horrible realization. She’d been taken. And the captors were Michael and his father. It hurt to think Michael had been part of her capture. She needed to escape. Prospects didn’t look good. If she’d been immortal, she wouldn’t have been in this predicament.
But she hadn’t gone through the change yet, which made this planet very harmful. All of her organs were shutting down. She had no power, no hope. Her life rested, like a broken baby bird, in the hands of those who despised her.
When she opened her eyes, Venus immediately looked around for Michael. She wanted to reason with him or his father. If they could see they had nothing to fear from her, perhaps they’d let her go.
The room looked like a place where operations were performed. She’d been strapped to a table. Machines of different sizes and shapes surrounded her. The walls were a brilliant white, except one portion across from her, which looked like a blacked out window. A large round light hung over her head. It glared so intensely she prayed to the Gods it wouldn’t burn her corneas.
To the right sat three blinking, beeping machines. Clear tubes attached her to them. One looked to be taking fluid out of her and the other seemed to be putting a substance into her. Another appeared to be monitoring her heart rate. Still another machine looked to be monitoring her pulse. Or was it her other heart?
They know. Frightened, she struggled against the restraints. It didn’t do any good. The plastic manacles around her upper and lower arms were too tight. She could twist her wrist. Clench and unclench her hands, but she couldn’t break free. Her feet had been bound too . . . which meant . . .
“Cret,” she swore, raising her head, wriggling her bare toes. They’d figured out how to remove her boots. How? They were only supposed to come off at her command after she’d finished her journey. Venus felt frantic. Without her boots, the effects of this planet’s atmosphere would break down her body at a much quicker rate. She guessed that’s why they were able to remove her boots; her life force wasn’t strong enough to hold them to her anymore.
A tear escaped. She’d never felt so alone.
Near her head, she heard a door open. Shifting, she saw four people, all dressed in the same shiny white suits being sprayed with a misty air. It hit them in all directions. The top, sides, and bottom. A clear, plastic shield covered their faces, making it difficult to tell whether they were male or female. When the machine stopped, they stood there a few moments. She guessed they were waiting for the air to clear. The thick, hazy air reminded her of the Manshum Mountains. There, the thick fog never dissipated and remained cloaked in mystical mist. The air did clear in the room, though. A glass door slid open and the people came out.
Venus debated whether or not to talk to them. Now that they were close, she could see their eyes, distinguish their faces. Two men and two women. She watched them move around. They had to know she was awake, but they ignored her. Instead they checked the restraints, flipped on new machines and raised her gurney. When one of them stuck a needle into the back of her hand, Venus spoke.
“What are you doing?” She’d meant the question to come out a yell. Instead the words came out scratchy.
Venus waited, but no one responded.
“Why am I here?” she whispered again after clearing her throat.
She tried to catch a set of eyes.
“What do you want from me?” Still no response. The questions seemed perfectly appropriate. But they wouldn’t talk to her. She felt like a braying calf about to be slaughtered. Her eyes pricked with tears. Fear overwhelmed her. For the first time she decided to be thankful for the fact that Zaren and Dervinias could read her thoughts—if they were close enough. She had no idea where they’d taken her, but she decided to try.
Dervinias. Zaren. I’m being held captive. Michael and his father took me. I’m in a room full of strange machines. Please, help me. She repeated that over and over until a female started wheeling her into another section of the large room. The female disconnected whatever fluid flowed into her arm through the I.V. and, with the help of the other woman, lifted her onto a table. Finally one of them spoke to her. “This is an x-ray machine and body scanner. We’re going to put your whole body inside the large tube here so we can take pictures. If you hold still it’ll go a lot faster,” she said, seething with menace.
Why would she want to hold still then? She didn’t want to make anything easier on them.
The woman seemed to read her expression. “Trust me. You don’t want to remain in there very long. It’s full of radiation. Who knows what overexposure will do to your . . . body.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter to her one way or another.
“Tell me what you want—what you’re going to do to me,” Venus challenged. If she were going to be good, the woman ought to at least answer her questions.
The woman glanced hastily around the room and then lowered her body, so they were face to face. Her hot breath reeked of dead animal. Venus made a face, struggling to hold back the need to gag. After a moment, she whispered, “We want to know what you look like on the inside. If nothing is revealed through the scan, we’ll cut you open. That’s what I’m hoping for—the opportunity to dig around inside your disgusting alien carcass.” She stood, her hazel eyes searching Venus’s. “You’re going to die. No doubt about it. And I want it to be sooner rather than later.” She laughed, hard and mean. “After some of our more invasive tests, you may wish you were dead.”
“Cassandra. Why are you talking to it?” a man asked.
“Advising it to hold still, sir.” She walked to the foot of the table. Venus heard a click and the table started to suck her into a long, white tube.
Once inside, a bunch of lights came on. The machine began to hum and the round cylinder started to spin. Venus remained still, the space too confining. She wanted out. Some minutes later, the bed started to move, removing her from the tube.
The mean woman returned. “Did you enjoy that? I hope so. It’s the only test that won’t hurt.”
Venus shrank away.
Another woman helped lift Venus back onto the gurney.
“Helen, let’s begin the first series of tests,” Cassandra said. Venus watched her hook the solution back into the I.V. sticking out of her hand. Immediately, a cold liquid entered her body. “You feel that?” Venus turned away and saw the other woman had a large needle in her hand.
Venus felt her eyes grow large. Scared, she shook her head back and forth. “No. What’s that for?”
“Sadly,” she hissed, “you’ll be asleep for most of it.” The needle sunk deep into her chest and Venus watched the red liquid make its way through the plastic, reach the needle and enter her.
As the liquid packed her veins, a scream filled her throat. W
hen the sound hit the ears, she didn’t recognize it. The pain, unbearable. It felt as though liquid fire had been shoved into her heart and with each beat, the flames built, burning her alive.
42. In Too Deep
Michael stood on the other side of the window, watching as the doctors in stark white worked around Venus. After they’d placed her inside a long, round tube, Frank appeared at his side. He flipped on a machine. Venus’s body appeared. He used a mouse to scroll over different highlighted areas.
“Son, this is beyond fantastic. Look at her organs,” he said, his breath stinking like cinnamon mouthwash and bourbon.
What a surprise. He still drinks like a fish and smells like a liquor store. He hasn’t changed at all.
The strange picture showed her entire body. But more than the bones were visible. All of her organs, her veins, could be seen, too. They were highlighted in red.
“What in the world?”
“That’s the point. She isn’t from this world.” He looked over at Michael and smiled. “See this?” Michael nodded. “What do you think that is?”
“It looks like a . . . a heart. Kind of.”
“Yes, and look here. What do you think that is?” he asked with unabashed excitement.
“I’d say another heart.” It was the craziest thing. Inside her ribs, which looked the same as humans, there appeared to be, what looked like a human heart, and another, larger one, which glowed.
“I think so too, Michael.” He patted Michael’s shoulder before rushing to another machine and flipping it one. “Listen.”
Michael did. He heard a quick beating. “Her heartbeat?”
“Wait, there’s more.” His dark eyes shone like a kid in a candy store on allowance day.
Michael turned away and stared at the two hearts on the x-ray. Still listening, he finally heard it, what sounded like another heartbeat. It beat much more slowly. “Is that another heart beat?” he asked.
Frank nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”
Michael kept listening.
“And look at this.” He pointed at a strange-looking organ in her pelvis. “See here.”
“Uh huh.”
“What do you suppose that could be?”
Michael shrugged. “No clue.”
“Here are her female organs, which are similar to our females, but this . . . I wonder.” He scratched his head absently. Then he pressed a button and called, “Abe. Get in here.”
One of the men in the room with Venus glanced over at the window they were watching from and nodded.
“Some other type of organ to assist with their reproduction,” Michael guessed aloud. It was large and perfectly round.
“Perhaps,” Frank nodded.
The man, Abe, walked into the room. “Are you sure he should be in here?” Abe pointed a long, white finger Michael’s direction.
Michael had the same thoughts, but figured Frank was trying to be fatherly. Or show off. Most likely the latter. Regardless, he wanted to stay.
“I’m the boss, Abe. And yes, he should be in here. I have my reasons.” His father’s stance and the hard lines on his face seemed to dare Abe to disagree.
“Fine.” Abe walked over to the machine next to Frank.
“What do you make of this?” he asked Abe, pointing at her circular organ.
“I’d guess it’s a part of her species’ reproduction.” Abe scratched his chin.
There was no way to know for sure. But probably a good guess since its location resided in the same area.
“What’s most amazing is . . . look at these.” Frank traced several lines that looked like veins, but they were thicker and didn’t appear to have anything in them. Only the outline highlighted in red whereas with her normal looking veins, the whole thing showed red. The regular veins were filled with blood, like a human’s, and attached to the smaller heart. The other set linked to the larger heart, which beat slower, and looked clear.
Totally frickin cool was Michael’s first thought. The second he spoke aloud. “What’re they for?” He stared at the monitor, waiting for it to magically reveal her secrets. The odd organs appeared connected to the “empty” veins and . . . “Hey, look at this.”
“What?” Frank and Abe asked in unison.
“These organs are a lighter red than the human-looking organs.” He pointed at them and then looked from his father to Abe and back to the picture.
“Yep, you’re right. I wonder what they’re for?” His dad turned to Abe for an answer.
“My guess is not as much blood or maybe no blood is in those parts of her body. Maybe they’re back up organs.”
Michael agreed. “Huh.”
“So what is flowing in and out of them?” Frank asked.
Abe sighed. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Frank nodded.
“How?” Michael questioned even though he knew the answer.
“We’re going to have to cut her open.” Abe rubbed his hands together. The saying, ‘evil scientist’ crossed his mind. He looked to Frank and asked, “When do we begin?”
“Wait,” Michael said, putting a hand on Abe’s fleshy arm. “Maybe I can help.”
Abe snorted, which ticked him off.
Frank looked unconvinced. “How do you plan on doing that?”
Michael rubbed his eyes, thinking fast. “Well, what if I talked to her? Put me into a cell next to hers and let me try.”
His father put a hand in his pocket and the other on Michael’s shoulder. Once again, he had an intense desire to fight the guy. Images of his bloodied feet, the bruises on his ribs, and the cigarette burns that had covered his legs as a child, snapped through his mind like a slide show.
Why should I trust this jerk?
Frank studied Michael, and he wondered if Frank could see the hate he masked. A wide smile appeared on Frank’s face, showing all of his teeth. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.” Turning to Abe, Frank said, “Let him try.” He pushed the green button on the wall and said, “We’re done for now. Lock her up.”
43. What I Am
Venus woke to the sounds of screams. She’d been in the fringes of Michael’s mind. His memories and dreams were filled with her. The way he’d watched them do tests. Even though she hadn’t felt any of the poking or prodding first hand, watching through Michael caused her body pain. She’d felt his emotions, too. They ranged from anger to uncontrollable sadness, and guilt.
As he watched the doctors, he’d thought she seemed so small and vulnerable. His mind kept going back to the picture they’d taken of her entire body. Venus knew they’d seen her alien organs. She saw the man, Abe, and the way he and Frank were talking of cutting her open. Venus knew Michael had saved her, though she sensed his twisted emotions over the decision.
Gingerly, she sat up. Her body longed to cough. But, she held it in, hoping her captors wouldn’t realize she’d awakened and stay away a while longer. The room (if you could call it a room) they’d placed her in reminded her of jail cells she’d seen in movies on TV. Up and down, her eyes raked every inch of the place. The room smelled of decay, mold and astringent. Dark green or black spots were growing in every visible corner. She guessed it must be some type of mold. A low pitched buzzing sounded from her left. She shook her head, hoping that would get rid of the noise. Stuck a finger in her ear and jiggled, thinking it might be her, but the noise continued.
She stood and walked toward the sound. It appeared to be coming from—the hall. As she inched closer, her perception changed. Where it’d looked like no wall or door existed, actually pulsed with an invisible current. Electricity.
No escaping out the front then. At least it isn’t a regular door . . . at least I can see what’s on the other side. The room did have three walls. Sort of.
Dreary. Off white and hard. Her bed rested against cool cement. The back wall divided in two. The upper half looked like two-way glass. She walked over and pressed her face against it, trying to see what or who stood on the other side. All she
could see were her own eyes, her own face, being reflected back. A metal toilet (it looked like aluminum foil) sat to the left, below the glass. Ten steel bars separated her room from another. Everything the same, except someone still slept in the cot.
Michael.
A part of her wanted to lash out. Yell. Tell him what a horrible person he turned out to be. But she remembered he’d been the one to save her from cut-happy Abe. He helped capture her, but he’d also saved her.
“Cret!” She cursed softly.
Michael rolled over to face her. His legs together, knees bent and hands grasping a book. She wasn’t sure whether he bunched into that position to protect himself from the cold or from her. He still wore the same clothes he’d had on when they went hiking, which made her wonder how many days she’d been held captive. Venus wanted to know why he slept in a cell, like her. Had he upset Frank? She hadn’t seen what’d happened in his memories. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, on this forsaken planet. Flying on Sadraden, that’s where she should’ve been. Instead she’d been stuffed into this awful room.
My coffin. She kept her eyes focused on the troublesome boy.
His dark hair poked up in random places. Messy. An image of her fingers running through his hair, smoothing the ends, sent her stomach dancing with fickle butterflies.
She shuffled to the bars and pushed her face in between two, the cool steel touching her ears. She rested her hands on the bars to either side. They were freezing, but Venus resisted the urge to pull away. The pain helped her feel more awake—alive. She stared at him a moment, watching his face, debating her decision.
Three. Two. One. “Hello, Michael.”
He sat, unfolding himself and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Rumpled and glorious and mean.
“You know when I first saw you I thought you were an Angel . . . of Death,” he whispered, gloomy.
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