Experiment

by Simcoe, Marina

  Valran walked to the entrance, and I followed, anxious to leave this room with its crypt-like atmosphere.

  “I was told this is unlikely to last long, too,” I said, placing my hand to my stomach.

  “Right.” He nodded calmly.

  I had been desperately resisting any feelings about what was happening inside me. In this room, I got a visual of how it all would end—displayed on the wall under glass, the only unknown being its exact position in this lineup. Valran’s cool confirmation drove it in, slicing me with pain I had tried hard to avoid.

  The heavy dread threatened to suffocate me, and I swallowed hard.

  “Why go ahead with this at all if you already know it’s hopeless?”

  “Hopeless?” He stopped in the corridor, regarding me with confusion. “Isabella, this fetus is viable. There is a solid three percent chance of a live birth. Do you realize what that means?”

  “Yes,” I retorted bitterly, fighting a hard lump in my throat. “You’d better get another glass container ready for your wall. As there is a ninety-seven percent chance you’re going to need it.”

  He shook his head, staring at me in bewilderment.

  “It means that for the first time in eight years, we finally have hope again.”

  His was a species on the verge of extinction, with a long and painful quest to save themselves at all cost. The problem was that my life and my future, as well as those of the man I had grown to care about, were all part of that cost.

  And I could see no way of stopping this.

  Now, there was a three percent chance of another life being brought into this world. To what future? To also be fed into the grand machine of The Experiment?

  “What would happen to the baby? If there was a live baby at the end?”

  “Protocols have been put in place for every possible outcome long ago. In case of a live birth, the fertility potential of the offspring is expected to be the same or better than that of the parents—”

  “So, you’ll just keep on breeding all of us?” I didn’t really need his answer. Ricread had outlined the big picture of his plans on my flight here, weeks ago. One child may hold the hope, but what came after it that was the actual result. What I hoped to gauge from Valran’s reply was his personal attitude to it all.

  “As soon as it is possible to perform the first analysis without the risk to the subject, the population of both planets will be evaluated to find the most suitable genetic match for your offspring. The long-term focus of the program is to eventually reduce the content of human DNA in the new species and to bring the ratio back to what Kealans currently have. This will take time—”

  “So, this . . . child will be the subject from the moment it is born until its last days. You have already separated me from its father. Will you take the baby away from its parents too when it’s born? Its entire life has been sacrificed to your cause before it has even begun.”

  “All of us have dedicated our lives to saving our race, Isabella. Every resource we have has been diverted to support Professor Ricread’s research. We’ve lost so much to it. We need to rebuild, start anew, and grow again.”

  “Do you, personally, believe that it would be possible to start anew after everything that you have done for this, Valran? After what you’re still planning to do? Do you think you could just move ahead into the bright tomorrow after grinding my future, Tairan’s, and the future of all those who’d come after us for your big purpose?” I pointed at my stomach. “Tell me, what exactly are you trying to preserve here? Is a race that has already lost its values, its morals, and its kindness still worth saving at all?”

  BACK IN MY ROOM, I had a hard time settling down for a while. Simply taking one day at a time seemed to be harder than ever.

  For reasons unknown, Valran had shared with me some information I suspected was way above my level of clearance, bringing to the surface the emotions I had struggled to bury deep.

  In a desperate attempt to distract myself, I ended up searching the communication system for any information on Valran. With Gran being gone, I used the screen of my armlet to pull up pictures of the members of The Science Group.

  Nine times out of ten, any group photo containing Valran also had Ricread in it. They seemed to have had a long career together. At least ten years younger than Ricread, Valran had been just a step behind him in every position they had held.

  Unlike the City Defense Forces, however, the members of The Science Group didn’t wear the signs of distinction much. Instead, the Group commemorated their members with plaques around the walls of the central facility in Atal.

  ‘These are our losses and accomplishments.’

  I thought back to the wall of samples marking the long and painful journey of Kealans on their quest to survive. Despite some sympathy for their situation, I had meant every word I said to Valran.

  In their struggle to procreate, Kealan society had forgotten about the lives of individuals like myself. Worry about Tairan hadn’t left me, nagging me from the inside day after day.

  Pacing the floor, I forced myself to take long, measured breaths, then found some calming music on the screen of my armlet.

  Now that I had finally got permission to leave my rooms, I couldn’t risk losing it. Stretching out on the bed, I recalled the pleasant images of the Kealan gardens in an attempt to bring my ‘numbers’ into the acceptable range for Ricread.

  Chapter 13

  DAYS MOVED BY, NEARLY identical and monotonous. The cells inside me kept multiplying, the fetus seemed to be holding on for now. Although, I refrained from asking anyone about the details of its progress, stubbornly struggling to distance myself from what was happening.

  The day after I spoke with Valran, Gran was returned to me with no recollection of my ever going to the clinical wing. Despite, his unwavering smile, though, I couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if I had betrayed the robot, and I made an extra effort to be nice to him now.

  We went for a walk to the gardens every morning. I made it to the section with Earth plants and found the waterfalls there, too. The grotto there looked identical to the one in the Kealan part, and I wondered if it was in a blind spot as well.

  To my bitter disappointment, I never saw Tairan in any part of the gardens or in the corridors of the facility on my way to and from them.

  Sometimes, I would run into personnel, though. They seemed to wear the cloaks and often their goggles, too, as a precaution whenever they had to come anywhere near the spacecraft landing hangar. Even despite the twenty-four-hour darkness in Antarctica this time of the year, any chance of exposure to the outside seemed to make the Kealans nervous, as if the sunlight still lingered out there somewhere.

  One day, about two weeks after I first started visiting the gardens, I ran into Valran again, although I was nowhere near the clinical part of the facility this time.

  He was walking swiftly through the corridors, in the company of another Kealan. Barely inclining his head my way in greeting while passing by, Valran said to his companion, when he must have thought I was out of earshot, “Move the subject X-001 to room SR04 tonight. He is post-surgery.”

  It took me a moment to absorb what I’d heard. As if frozen in place, I stood in the middle of the corridor, Valran’s words bouncing through my mind.

  ‘He.’

  How many male subjects did they have in this place? Or even female, for that matter? To my knowledge it had been just Tairan and me.

  Even if the research team had acquired more people for any other purpose by now, the feeling that Valran had specifically been referring to Tairan wouldn’t leave me.

  “Gran, where is the room number SR04?”

  “In the clinical wing.”

  “What is its function? Post-surgery recovery? Never mind.” I waved my hand at him. “I know, I know ‘not my level of clearance.’”

  “I am not authorized to confirm the room’s function,” the robot replied, his blue smile stretching wider. “But I have complete free
dom to state that individuals generally require a recovery period after surgery.”

  His words made me pause.

  “Granny?” I crouched in front of the robot, staring at him as if I could read behind the glowing lights of his ‘eyes.’ “Would you also ‘state’ for me how long the individuals could be generally expected to stay in the recovery?”

  “Two to six days depending on the surgery.”

  “And what kind of care would they receive?”

  “Around-the-clock recording and transmission of vital statistics and regular analysis by a group of technicians, with the purpose of monitoring the progress of recovery and assessing medication requirements.”

  “What time of the day do the technicians’ visits happen?”

  “The time has been recently amended to nine thirty in the morning. Right after your breakfast.”

  My heart began to race faster, and I rose to my feet, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm down.

  If it was indeed Tairan who was being transferred to that room tonight, then I could be there when the technicians left tomorrow morning. At best I could hope for a glimpse of him through the open door, but maybe I would overhear something about his condition or the surgery he just had.

  All I had to do was to find a way to stay out of sight and, if that failed, feign ignorance and claim I had gotten lost. That could mean losing the privilege of going for a walk in the future, but I needed to use this chance to find out what was going on with Tairan.

  “Gran, can you show me the numbers X-001 and SR04? How they’re written in Kealan?”

  “Certainly.” The smiley face melted into the screen with the glowing set of characters representing the numbers.

  “Thank you so much.” Opening the drawing screen on my armlet, I quickly copied them over.

  BACK IN MY BEDROOM, I paced the floor once again, this time thinking of the best way to accomplish what I had in mind tomorrow.

  Opening my screen again, I stared at the room and subject numbers I had copied, trying to memorize them. It was hard to focus. I thought of a way to mark the room when I found it, so it would be easier for me to find it again if needed, and I remembered the nail file I hid when I first got here.

  Crouching down by the bed, I searched in the narrow gap between it and the floor with a thin kitchen utensil I had brought from one of the cabinets in the living area. With another sweep of the utensil, the long nail file slid out, and I tucked it in my pocket quickly.

  I needed it to scrape a part of the light strip over the room SR04 to mark it. However, having a ‘weapon’ in my pocket, no matter how inadequate it might be against anyone at the station, gave me some confidence, too.

  Chapter 14

  MY HEART WAS POUNDING wildly in my chest, and I’d given up on attempts to calm down. With Gran on my heels, I was heading to the tunnel leading from the gardens to the clinical wing.

  “I am required to remind you that you’re not authorized to enter any rooms in this corridor,” the robot stated.

  “If I confirm that I am completely aware of that, would you not repeat it ever again? Especially, not within the next twenty minutes. In fact, could you promise me to say absolutely nothing for the next twenty minutes?”

  “You’re not authorized to shut down my inputting functions.” I believed Gran’s voice sounded a bit grumpy. “However,” he continued, “there is no instruction against your temporarily turning off my output device.”

  “Really? How do I do that?”

  “There are several ways. Voice command is one of them—”

  “Is it?” I cut him off, anxious to keep going. “Shut up, Gran.”

  He immediately went quiet. Although, the lights on his round ‘face’ shifted, forming into a sentence.

  ‘There was no need to be rude.’

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, actually feeling ashamed, “Sorry. Can we go now, please?”

  Heading through the tunnel, with the soft sound of Gran rolling behind me, I opened the screen on my forearm device and pulled up the number of the room I’d recorded.

  Silently moving through the corridor of the clinic, I referenced the numbers on the wall to the one on my screen. The progress was slow, as I had no idea whether I was moving in the right direction because I had no way of telling if the numbers were increasing or decreasing as I went along, simply searching for the exact one I had on my screen.

  A noise in the distance made me flatten against the wall. I frantically waved to Gran to roll to me as I curled my fingers around the nail file in the pocket of my dress.

  “Leave it open,” I heard a male voice. “Someone is bringing in a gurney.”

  “Are they going to transfer him again? They just moved him here last night.”

  “No idea. That information is above my clearance level . . .”

  To my relief, the voices faded—the people talking were obviously moving in the opposite direction from me.

  I snuck after them quickly. If they were talking about an open door, I didn’t want it to close before I got to it.

  Turning around the corner, I spotted the backs of two male figures as they moved away. Light spilled into the corridor from the open door to my right. Not waiting for the technicians to disappear from view completely, I quietly ran to the door and into the room, anxious to get out of their line of sight as soon as possible.

  “You are entering . . .” Gran’s cranky voice followed me in, but I stopped paying attention to him at the sight of the Kealan spread on his back on a high, narrow bed in the middle of the room.

  His eyes closed, his features sunken, he was naked, save for the wide bandages across his hips that covered his crotch completely. Wide straps of plastic or rubber crossed his thighs and chest, strapping his torso to the cot he lay on.

  I took a few tentative steps to him. The man seemed leaner than I remembered Tairan being. Although just as broad-shouldered, his ribs protruded distinctly and the bindings couldn’t hide how sharp his hip bones were.

  As I came closer, though, the familiar exotic scent filtered through the clinical air of the room.

  “Tairan,” I whispered, and bit my lip to stop it from trembling. Even his tangled braids seemed less lustrous somehow.

  I gently touched his arm. His eyelids moved, the white eyelashes fluttered like snowflakes. Then his violet-rimmed eyes met mine. The expression in them seemed unfocused, disoriented.

  “Isabella?” His voice sounded rough, but the tone of it was so warm, it melted my heart.

  He shifted in an attempt to turn to me. His body jerked, his face distorting into a grimace of pain as he clenched his jaw with a strangled groan.

  “What have they been doing to you?” I blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill over and carefully took his outstretched hand.

  The reply to my question didn’t come from Tairan.

  “A series of necessary procedures to improve his performance and compatibility with you,” Ricread’s voice came from the direction of the door.

  Startled, I turned around quickly, keeping Tairan’s hand in mine.

  Arms across his chest, black cloak open, Ricread glared at me from the entrance. A number of research team members flanked him, along with a group of security personnel in black uniforms.

  I spotted Valran behind Ricread’s shoulder. Visibly calm and collected, he didn’t seem surprised to see me.

  Was it a trap?

  Come to think of it, my plan of getting here had gone exceptionally smoothly. Had Valran set it up?

  “It doesn’t look like he is improved in any way.” I returned Ricread’s glare.

  “He will fully recover by the time the next insemination is required.”

  “Next insemination?” I flinched. “You really are planning ahead. This fetus is still in me.”

  “I must foresee every possibility and devise an appropriate response to every possible outcome. Faced with a multitude of unpredictable variables, it is paramount for all involve
d to behave exactly as I expect, including you. Especially you.” He spat the last word through his clenched teeth before turning to Zavis. “Adjust her daily schedule immediately. She no longer has the privilege of a morning walk.”

  Zavis nodded, vigorously punching into her screen.

  “Sikril.” Ricread gave a sign, and two of the security personnel in black uniforms moved my way.

  “No.” My spine snapping straight, I got a firmer hold of Tairan’s hand behind my back. “I’m staying here.”

  Ricread shrugged, brushing me off then turned to leave.

  “Listen to me!” I yelled, getting his attention. “You have married us. He is my husband. It may mean nothing to you, but it hurts me to see him suffer.”

  “No one invited you here to see him,” Ricread retorted coolly. “And I have no time to waste on appeasing your cultural expectations anymore. The rules are in place for a reason. They’re meant to control what we can, and that means you. You need to be in your room, right now.”

  “I’m staying here.” The idea of being locked away again was appalling. But the thought of leaving Tairan, strapped to the table and subjected to Ricread’s cruelties, was simply terrifying. I might not be able to protect him, but now that I’d found him, I simply couldn’t leave him. “It is important for me to have the support of a husband in my condition.” I attempted to use the previous tactic of persuasion. “We need to be together.”

  “It’s time for you to understand the importance of the work we all do here!” Ricread raised his voice, his composure melting away. Impatiently, he gestured to the two Kealans who now flanked me. “Take her and put her in her place.”

  “No!” Letting go of Tairan’s hand, I moved out of their reach, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. “I’m not going to be locked away again! I’m not your lab rat. I’m not spending the rest of my life alone in a cage.”

  “You have no say here!” Ricread exclaimed with force, hands fisted at his sides. “You will do as you’re instructed. And if not, you will be made to comply. You are the property of Keala, which means you are mine to do with as I please, for the future of our planet.”