Experiment

by Simcoe, Marina

  The detached way with which Ricread spoke about all of this made the whole thing sound hypothetical and abstract. It was hard to believe he meant for me to be a part of it.

  “I have developed a technique of eliminating the results of inbreeding on a chromosomal level. Besides, as I’ve mentioned, the main objective of the research is to continue our race, not to create a new one. I will breed human DNA out of the offspring by adding more Kealan DNA with each generation, until the ratio matches the one we currently have.”

  “How?”

  “Using the protocols and technology I have created and perfected over the course of my life. But you don’t need to concern yourself with any of this at the moment.”

  “I think I do. You’re talking about the offspring . . . the babies.” I said, trying hard not to think that those would be my babies.

  “At this stage of the experiment, there is a very slim chance of an actual pregnancy,” Ricread revealed with a sigh. “During this phase, we will be focusing mostly on your body’s reaction to the male subject’s reproductive material.”

  Trepidation chilled me from the inside, but I needed to get any information I could from him, since he continued answering my questions.

  “How many stages are there? How long are you planning to keep me?”

  Clasping his hands in front of him, he leaned across the table towards me.

  “For as long as it will be necessary.” His tone was firm and unyielding.

  “Do you have any plans to ever set me free?” I asked, my voice hollow, just like the dreadful emptiness spreading inside in anticipation of his answer.

  “You are a citizen of Keala now,” he reminded, snuffing out any hope I might still have. “The Earth gave you to us. To me. Indefinitely.”

  “I don’t want to be part of this,” I whispered, unable to move under the horror descending on me.

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

  STUNNED BY RICREAD’S revelations, I lost any sense of time. There were no windows in the Kealan craft that allowed me to see outside. At some point, I felt that the whole aircraft tilted slightly.

  Ricread yanked his hood down to cover most of his face again. “We are here.”

  The table disappeared back into the floor, taking my untouched salad with it. The wall shimmered as if dissolving into the air. The solid structure melted down, forming the stairs.

  The same warm, yellow light greeted me when I stepped outside. Focusing on making it downstairs without tripping over my useless skirts, I wasn't able to take a look around until I was fully on the ground.

  We had landed inside a building. The high, dome-like roof must have been opened to let us in. It was now closing—the round opening shrinking, obstructing the night sky outside and shutting me in.

  The huge indoor space was lit by curved strips of light that ran along the circumference of the ceiling. I saw grey walls far in the distance. The floor under my sandals felt a bit springy as if made of hard rubber.

  “I will personally show you to your room.” Ricread appeared at my side. By the tone of his voice, I understood, it was a great honour to be escorted by him.

  I followed him across the spaceship hangar, with two other cloaked figures joining us. The rest of our traveling companions seemed to have disappeared somewhere while I had been surveying our surroundings.

  We entered a wide corridor. Empty just like the hangar.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked, just to break the silence in which dreadful thoughts roamed through my mind.

  “Around,” Ricread replied briefly. “We have several hundred personnel at the station, not including the security team. However, it is a large facility and it is late in the night. Most are asleep.”

  “Would you have preferred a large greeting party?” Another male voice asked unexpectedly, coming from one of the two Kealans accompanying us. “That is customary in human culture, isn’t it? To organize a ceremony to welcome a newcomer?”

  “That’s enough, Valran,” Ricread stopped him sharply. “No more of that human tradition nonsense,” he added grumpily. “In fact, you’re dismissed for today.”

  With a brief nod, the other man fell behind, leaving just Ricread and me, along with one more male at Ricread’s side.

  With each turn of the grey-walled corridors, the fear and anxiety kept rising in me at the thoughts of the actual purpose of my being here.

  ‘They are intelligent, sentient beings. Reason with them.’ Barbara Adan’s words came to mind.

  I swallowed hard, trying to calm my nerves. From our previous conversation, I got a feeling Ricread was not exactly someone who listened to anyone’s reason but his own.

  “I am very tired,” I attempted. It wasn’t even a lie. Throughout the day, the tension never left me, as panic spiked and ebbed. Combined with the fact that the last meal I ate was the breakfast at home, it was a miracle I still remained upright at all.

  “I believe you,” Ricread agreed calmly. “Things ended up being rather rushed.”

  “Can I rest tonight?” All I wanted was a few hours of sleep. My brain was shutting down already, and I could pass out the moment the adrenaline receded—if only there was a chance for it to do so.

  Tomorrow was another day, and I'd be able to think better in the morning, I hoped.

  “Absolutely.” Ricread stopped again, turning to face me fully. The hexagonal mesh of light inside his eyes glistened, bringing an insect to mind. “You can have as much rest as you want after the consummation has occurred. My plan is to attempt insemination for the next three consecutive nights.”

  “Insemination?” My heart fell.

  “Yes. By intercourse,” he clarified. “Our tests have confirmed you will be ovulating within hours. We have performed a number of procedures on the male subject already, to ensure the optimal performance of his genetic material. If we miss this cycle, all our preliminary work will be wasted.” The clinical note in his voice made it sound even colder than before.

  “Please, this is all too much and too fast. I—I just need some time.”

  “Time is exactly what we don’t have. We have made some allowances for your customs and traditions, to make the transition less jarring for you. I cannot allow for any further delays at this point.”

  My back to the wall, I moved my gaze quickly between Ricread and his companion, who had slid his hood back, too, revealing the same large, black, unblinking eyes.

  “I don’t want to do this,” I said firmly, wanting it to go on record somewhere—even if just in my own mind—that I had made my wishes clear to everyone.

  “Like I said, you don’t have a choice.” Ricread moved my way. “The only thing I can allow you to choose right now would be whether to consummate your marriage in the privacy of your bedroom—one on one with the male subject—or under the supervision of the medical team on duty.”

  I stared wildly at him for a few moments as the realization that this was it, he truly meant what he said, hit me fully.

  “I don't want any of this,” I kept repeating, although any hope that anyone would listen had gone.

  He moved closer, hovering over me exactly like the Grim Reaper in his black cloak, with bottomless, emotionless eyes.

  “Privacy or supervision?” he asked, his voice sharp and hard like a knife.

  “Privacy,” I whispered, struggling to breathe.

  “Well then.” He stepped back immediately, hitting something on the wall over my shoulder.

  The support at my back disappeared suddenly, and I nearly fell backwards, staggering in my heels.

  “Sikril,” Ricread threw over his shoulder to the Kealan who had came with us, then back to me, “We’ll see you in the morning, Isabella.”

  Then, the two grabbed me under my arms and shoved me into the void behind me.

  Chapter 5

  “WAIT.” I DOVE BACK, but the wall quickly solidified again in front of me, cutting me off from the corridor and the two figures draped in black. “You
can’t do this!” I slammed both fists into the matte grey surface, hard and unyielding as it was.

  “Yes, they can,” a quiet voice came from behind me, startling me.

  I spun around, as quickly as my skirts would allow.

  Bathed in soft, yellow light, the room was quite spacious. Although, the only piece of furniture was a wide bed in the middle, covered with a thin, black blanket.

  A tall figure stood by the wall on the other side of the bed. His back to me, he had the same black cloak on as the rest of them.

  “Who are you?” I squeezed past a thick lump in my sore throat, already having guessed the answer. His sombre tone sounded identical to the voice of my ‘groom’ in the church.

  Without answering me, he took his hood off, revealing a mass of thin braids. Glossy and snowy-white, they were clipped together with black and silver rings in an intricate weave at the back of his head. The ends of the long pleats streamed free down his back and shoulders.

  Running his fingers over the wall, he made a shelf slide out then shrugged his cloak off, making me the first human who had ever laid an eye on the Kealan without their ever-present black shrouds.

  As he unhurriedly placed the cloak on the shelf, I quickly slid my gaze down his torso.

  He was dressed in a grey body suit so tight, it seemed to be painted on him. The top was sleeveless, leaving his muscular arms exposed, white skin glaring in contrast to the black material of a wide armlet circling his left forearm.

  As if sensing my stare, he glanced at me over his shoulder. The reflective light sketched the hexagonal pattern in his large eyes the moment before he lifted his hand and . . . peeled them off.

  With shock spearing me like lightning, I made a strangled noise and pressed my back into the wall behind me, watching as he placed ‘the eyes’ onto the shelf calmly, as if removing body parts was an every-day occurrence to him.

  Breathless from fear, I took a tentative glance at his face, expecting to find gaping eye sockets. Instead, a pair of human-sized eyes met my gaze.

  “Those things weren’t your eyes?” My hand at my throat, I let out a long breath, still shocked but relieved that no body dismemberment had taken place in front of me.

  He cast a curious glance at the shelf, as if figuring out what could have caused this reaction in me, but still didn’t say anything.

  Silently, I continued to watch him for a moment, as he slid a finger around his middle, separating the top part of his bodysuit from the bottom, then along the front, opening it up.

  Only when he peeled the vest-like piece off his torso and laid it neatly on the shelf did the meaning of what he was doing filter through to my exhausted brain—he was stripping.

  The next moment, he brushed his hands along the side of his pants, and they fell off to the floor, revealing two gleamingly white legs, like columns of marble, and . . . a hard alien backside.

  The shock of seeing him literally butt-naked jolted my ability to speak again.

  “I don’t want to do this,” I repeated for what felt like the millionth time. And just like every other time, my words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

  “As I have previously stated . . .” He turned around. Kicking his boots must have opened them somehow, because he stepped right out of them and stalked my way—completely nude. “The choice is neither yours nor mine.”

  Back pressed into the wall, I shrank away as he approached and closed my eyes, wishing I could just melt into the hard surface behind me.

  Hands propped on the wall over my head, he hovered over me but made no move to touch me.

  “It has to be done,” he said unexpectedly softly. “One way or another.”

  The words were harsh. However, the tone of his voice gave me the courage to open my eyes to face him.

  “Not right now,” I begged, staring straight at him. “Not like this.”

  The shape and size of his eyes were human, however, their colour was nothing like I’d ever seen. Despite the dimmed lighting in the room, the dark pupils in the centre were small, not dilated at all. The irises were just as white as the rest of his eyes, except for the vividly iridescent, violet rims marking the outer edge. Thin rays of shifting colours of lavender, magenta, and violet stretched from the rim to the pupil. They seemed to shimmer and change with every move he made and every breath he took, making staring into his eyes truly mesmerizing.

  “There will be tests to confirm it has happened,” he said evenly, staring at me with those out-of-this-world eyes. “And consequences if it does not happen.”

  The fact that he hadn’t lunged for me, gave me a reason to hope. I shot a furtive glance down his body to his crotch. There, his penis hung placidly, without so much as a twitch of an erection.

  His brain led his actions, I figured, not lust from hormones—and a brain could be reasoned with, I hoped.

  “When?” I drew in a lungful of air, bracing for an argument. “When are the tests going to be done?”

  “Six in the morning. Local time.”

  “What time is it now?”

  “Well past midnight.” He glanced at the wide armlet covering most of his forearm. “Almost one, actually.”

  “We still have time,” I said, frantically grasping at straws. “At least a few hours before anything needs to happen.”

  Everyone had been telling me that I had no choice whatsoever. And here I was, still desperately trying to influence something. Anything.

  The fact that he didn’t seem to be that into the immediate insemination either strengthened my hope, though.

  “You will need to get some sleep, too,” he said calmly, as if we were debating a business transaction.

  “At least an hour then?” I pleaded, not giving up. “Give me an hour, please.”

  “What for?” He shrugged a wide shoulder. “The sooner it starts, the sooner it ends.”

  God, did this really come down to this? Was I reduced to begging not to be raped on my wedding night?

  He didn’t strike me as a rapist, though. More like someone who had a reason and determination to go through with this, but lacked the kind of violent aggression I assumed would be required to force himself on me.

  “What difference would an hour make?” he asked. “What would you do with that time?”

  “Um . . . talk.” I tried to give my voice as much force as I could muster, as if I was negotiating, not begging. A negotiation, though, would require me being able to offer something in exchange for concessions from the other party, and I had nothing to give. All I could do was beg and hope he had a shred of kindness in his heart. “Could we just talk for one hour, please?”

  “Why?” He leaned back, away from me, dropping his arms to his sides.

  He hadn’t agreed to anything yet, but he seemed to consider my request. After a day full of rejections, this alone felt like a win, and I was able to let out a breath.

  “Maybe getting to know each other, at least a little, would make this night somewhat more . . . acceptable for me,” I explained, really hoping he cared at all about my feelings on this matter.

  He appeared to think about my words for a moment then gave me a brief nod.

  Relief flooded me, as if I had just narrowly escaped a death sentence. In my mind I understood perfectly well I had escaped nothing, just postponed it, but an hour felt like an eternity at the moment, and I could breathe freely once again.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked, sauntering to the bed, seemingly completely undisturbed by his nudity.

  Finally, I was able to peel my back from that wall. Carefully, trying not to trip over the skirts of my ridiculous dress, I took a few steps his way. “What’s your name?”

  He glanced at me, fixing me with those unearthly eyes.

  “Commander—” He winced and shook his head. “Just Tairan. Tairan Saryal.”

  “I’m Isabella Bruno.” I walked over and sat on the bed about a metre away from him. With the adrenaline finally wearing off, my bones seemed to be turning to m
ush weighted down by extreme tiredness. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty two.”

  “In human years or Kealan?”

  “It’s very much the same. Our planets are of similar size and their orbits are nearly identical.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that.” Not that I knew anything about Keala at all. “The gravity is the same too, then?”

  He nodded.

  “How about plants and animals?”

  His less than enthusiastic responses had me worried that our conversation would fizzle to nothing way too soon. Would sitting in silence for an hour make the consummation any more tolerable to me? I doubted it would.

  “Are your forests also green and the oceans blue?” I prompted, to chase away the silence that threatened to settle over us.

  “No. There are no forests or oceans on our planet.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They have never been there. Our star is brighter than your Sun and much hotter. Through the day, the surface of Keala is burnt, and the ground melts into a black ocean of lava. At night the temperatures drop hundreds of degrees below freezing, solidifying the lava into hard crust. No life can exist in that environment.”

  “Is that why you came to Earth, because the surface of your planet is no longer habitable?” I asked, shaken by his description.

  “I didn’t say it has ever been habitable,” he replied a bit abruptly.

  “Well, how do you inhabit it then?” I asked somewhat tersely, too.

  It was not my intention to turn this conversation into an argument, especially over something silly like that, but I’d had a gruesome day. I was tired and stressed, my patience worn too thin to remain perfectly diplomatic.

  Tilting his head, he stared at me for one silent moment.

  “Listen,” I inhaled, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. “I don’t know about you, but all this . . . today has really tested my limits. I’m not trying to give you an attitude. I just want to have a conversation.”