Calls of nocturnal animals hum and squeak all around us; they sound different from the nighttime choruses we’re used to back on Earth, waking a primal, unnerving fear of predation. We may be on the hunt, but we’re not the only ones.
Safety in numbers, though: Tim’s at my side, rifle at the ready. Behind us trail six of his best trackers. They seem right at home; to them, a forest here isn’t much different from one back on Earth.
Eyes open, ears open, I remind myself. Blood roars through my veins, intensifying my senses. Every chirp and hoot, the shifting shadows, the scents on the wind—all of it speaks to me. I don’t tell myself there’s nothing to be afraid of; it’s not true. This mission isn’t without danger. That’s okay. We’re ready for it.
The radio hooked to my belt hisses. “Go ahead,” I whisper into it.
“We’ve spotted the camp,” says Steph, a former cop and leader of team five.
“Copy that.”
Our scouts found signs of the Robertson and West families to the east of the settlement: tire tracks from the stolen carts, remains of campfires, and packaging from food rations. We know they’re in the vicinity. Team five took the northern trail, following a small stream we hope will have potable water.
“Set up a perimeter with teams four and six. Everyone else, close in on their position and wait for the go. No unnecessary chatter.”
The radio clicks in each team’s confirmation. We’re all set.
Checking my compass, I point toward team five’s approximate position. “This way,” I say. “Watch your step.”
I haven’t felt this good since my last mission, the air attack on the Dominar ship Redeemer. Though I’d rather be in the air than stalking through the forest, I’m so much more in my element. This is so much more fun than appearing on talk shows and making the same arguments over and over. I feel so alive—even if my ass and pussy still throb with each step I take.
The best part of this mission might be how it takes my mind off what happened between me and Prust. Yes, the sex was incredible—but it wasn’t supposed to be part of our arrangement. I wish I hadn’t enjoyed it so much, or that Prust had been a lousy lover. It would really reduce the temptation to ask him for more help in the future, and remind me that what we did was perverse. Maybe the Dominars are okay with treating sex like conquest, but I’m not. Still, how am I supposed to resist? If he’s going to make me orgasm that hard every time I come to him for advice...
Hey! Focus, Alexis.
I can lament my lack of strong moral certitude later; there’s a mission to complete.
Time moves extra slowly as my team approaches our target. Every second I worry that our footsteps can be heard, or that the entire Robertson and West families are waiting for us, ready to fire.
Thankfully, my worst fears are only that. When I catch sight of the campfire, my squad moves in. Soon we spot Freddie Robertson, the family’s oldest son, keeping watch.
“You hear that?” Tim whispers to me. “They awake?”
I listen closely, making out low voices. It doesn’t sound like a conversation, though. There’s a rhythm to it, and a repetition.
“It’s music,” I whisper back.
Maybe he’s listening to it to help stay awake, or to ward off dangerous animals. Either way, Freddie’s doing us a huge favor, diverting his attention and masking the sound of our approach. If he weren’t an untrained teenager, I’d have some choice words for him.
“Click if you’re in position,” I radio the teams. After a second, each one confirms they’re ready. “Okay, move in.”
By the time Freddie hears us, sets down his tablet and grabs his gun, I and forty other colonists have fully surrounded the camp, our weapons drawn.
“Hands in the air!” I shout, training my aim on Freddie.
Don’t fight back, kid. Please don’t.
His sweatpants suddenly darken in a trail down his leg. “Please,” he says, raising his hands.
“Everybody out of your tents, now!” Tim shouts.
Gradually, the Robertsons and Wests emerge, hands raised, faces murderous. My teams zip-tie the hands of each family member.
“Where are the stolen supplies?” I ask Freddie.
He points to the south. “That way. You’ll see the carts.”
I turn to Tim, who nods and takes three of our team members.
“Good work, all of you,” I say. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
Piskiron’s sun has barely risen by the time we finish the hike back to the settlement, but everyone is gathered outside to receive us. Tim and his people beat us back, riding the stolen carts, and apparently he woke the whole colony.
They cheer louder the closer we get. By the time we’re standing in the middle of the settlement, shaking hands and waving to everyone, the noise hits a crescendo I haven’t heard in years.
“Congratulations, Alexis!” shouts Dani, weaving her way through the crowd to give me a hug. “You did it!”
“Thanks, but hey—we did it. This was a group effort,” I say, staring over at a small pen at the far end of the settlement. Built from little more than boards and wire, it’ll be big enough to serve as a temporary detention center. With the right people planning and working, it took less than a day. If all goes well, the Robertsons and Wests won’t be there for very long.
“Everybody, listen up!” I shout, remembering Prust’s advice. “I’ve got something important to say.”
I wait for the applause and cheers to taper off, passing through the crowd toward the prisoners.
“What we did today shows that we can work together, and that we’re still one big team!” I turn to Vincent Robertson; his shoulders slumped and face ashen, he’s staring at me with tired eyes. “Sometimes we may make mistakes, but we will forgive one another. We will learn from our failures. If we do that and promise to always be kind, we will prosper—together!”
Prust’s words pour from my mouth. Speaking with boundless energy, adrenaline washing away the night’s fatigue, I turn every pair of eyes toward me. I may have been born to fly a jet, but my years of television and public oration have propelled me so much higher. When I’m finished, the applause rings out so loud I can tell the vote is in the bag.
“I want every single one of you to stop by the pen we’ve made, and I want you to tell these families that they are all still our friends, that they are forgiven. I want you to do this today! We will not turn our backs on one another, not ever! Are you with me?”
They cheer again, as one. Dani pulls me into another hug, and Tim comes over to shake my hand.
“Alexis?” says Vincent, cutting through the noise. “How long will we serve?”
“Not long,” I reply. “Whoever wins the vote will decide. If it’s me, it’ll be my first order of business.”
“Thank you,” he says. “And we’ve learned our lesson, I promise. This was a one-time thing.”
I pat his shoulder and nod. “I know.”
* * *
When the fanfare settles down, and the colony gets back to the day’s tasks and objectives, I go for a walk. I need a little time to unwind.
A one-time thing.
Vincent’s words repeat in my head, and I don’t like it. He has no idea he drove a spike of guilt through my chest.
I’m a fraud. I didn’t resolve the colony’s first crisis—Prust did. It was his plan, not mine. Would I have brought the Robertsons and Wests back into the fold? Could I, alone, have healed the rift and helped rebuild the colony’s broken trust? I may never know for sure. I did exactly as Prust said, and it worked. For Vincent and his family’s sake, I’m glad. But I don’t like to lie. Back on Earth, people accused me all the time of arguing in bad faith, of being knowingly disingenuous, but I wasn’t. Maybe the accusations shouldn’t have bothered me, but they did. They stung. My beliefs have always been honest. I’d like to think I proved that, coming to Piskiron.
Except, haven’t I thrown that all away, relying on Prust to achieve m
y ends? I don’t think I can do it again, not if I want to be able to live with myself. He has to know this was a one-time thing, so I make my way to his domed residence.
“Welcome back,” he says, lounging in a padded recliner. “Congratulations on the operation, and the vote. You’re going to win, you know.”
“Thanks, I hope so,” I reply. “You were right. About all of it.”
He smiles. “Yes, I knew I would be.”
I roll my eyes. What a Dominar thing to say.
“If you’re so smart, do you know why I’m here?”
Prust gets up and retrieves two drinking glasses. “Tell me.”
“First, I wanted to thank you,” I begin, watching as he pours us a pair of light blue drinks. “And to let you know that I’m going to handle this all myself from now on.”
“I see,” he replies, passing me a glass. He takes a sip of his and sits back down.
I look at the liquid, having no clue what it is—but I don’t think Prust would poison me, so I have a taste. A nectar of some kind, it’s sweet and delicious.
“Winning the job and doing it are not the same thing,” he says, eyeing me intently. “You get that, right?”
“Sure. But I can’t deceive my people this way. It’s wrong.”
Most of what we did here together was wrong, for that matter.
“Alexis, today you impressed me. I may have given you a good plan, but it was still up to you to see it through. I couldn’t do that for you. You’ve got the determination and the motivation, that’s undeniable. It’s clear you’re willing to work hard and take charge. You have significant leadership qualities, and you have great potential. But I worry for your future. The job’s only going to get harder.”
“That’s true,” I say.
“If Freddie had been keeping guard properly, and opened fire on your teams... Some of your decisions will be risky, and end in blood.”
I set down my drink and stick my hands in my jacket pockets, willing myself to leave. “I have no choice. I need to do this myself.”
Prust shakes his head. “You’re not ready, Alexis.”
In my heart, I know there’s a good chance he’s right, but hearing him state it so bluntly cuts me deeply.
“I am, and I’m going to prove it to you,” I say, lips curled, teeth bared. “We’re going to thrive thanks to me and only me.”
He ushers me to the door and says, “In that case, good luck. You’ll need it.”
Chapter Seven
I win the vote, as expected. After the successful late night raid, nobody bothers campaigning—myself included. There is no need.
Prust leaves me alone after that; he’s rarely seen around the colony, which I guess is just as well. Still, I find myself thinking about him more than I’d like. I shouldn’t care that he thinks I’m not up to the task, but it bothers me. Whenever I find myself dwelling on it, I try to remember I don’t need his approval and change my train of thought. It doesn’t help that these mental circles often find me at night when I’m trying to sleep.
I need a way to blow off some steam—a way that does not involve Prust.
Being in charge means now everyone comes to me with their problems, looking for an answer. At least three times a day I tell someone, “I see where you’re coming from, let me look into that and get back to you.” Translation: either I don’t know how to fix that, or I don’t know how to fix that and also keep everyone happy. I suppose Prust warned me about this. At the rate I’m running through antacids, the colony’s supply won’t last very long.
At least it takes until my second week as leader for the next emergency to occur.
Dani wakes me, shaking me and holding her hand over my mouth. I start to scream, but she holds my mouth harder and shakes her head.
“Quiet!” she whispers. Her face has gone deathly pale, and her hand shakes violently.
I nod, so she lets go, then leans in to talk straight into my ear.
“There’s something outside,” she says, voice trembling. “It’s huge and it won’t go away.”
Tapping her shoulder, I get up and dress quickly. I grab my rifle and check to make sure it’s loaded.
“Stay here,” I tell Dani.
Peeking outside my tent, I make sure the coast is clear before stepping out. It’s still early morning, the sun barely risen; normally the colony would be up and moving, taking advantage of the daylight, but now everything is quiet. The only people I see are risking glances out of their tents; when they spot me, I wave at them, signaling they should get back inside. No one argues.
My heart pounds as I search for whatever Dani saw, wandering through rows of tents and shed-like buildings. Time seems to slow, my steps and breathing sounding in my ears like thunder. Then I hear it.
Soft grunting noises reach me from around a corner. Approaching slowly and carefully, I gaze around the edge of the tent and see my first alien animal.
Considering Dani’s terror, I built it up in my mind to be the size of a minivan, breathing fire and chewing through steel. Thankfully, reality doesn’t match my imagination. The animal is still plenty big, of course—Dani’s not remotely cowardly or stupid. At first look, it could be mistaken for a grizzly bear, due to it being about the same size and covered with thick brown fur. Hooked tusks extend from its dark face, and its red eyes make me gasp in renewed fear. As I watch, it sifts through a spilled trash container, using its tusks to find something edible.
Behind me I hear footsteps. Turning, I point my rifle at the sound, but it’s just Steve and Jeanne, each holding their own guns. I aim mine down at the ground and point around the corner, mouthing I see it.
They march forward, weapons held at the ready, but I hold up a hand for them to wait.
It amazes me that someone could be so brave and foolish at the same time.
I can’t help but be reminded of Prust’s words. I need to think this through. What if attacking this animal is a bad idea? Between me, Steve, and Jeanne, we could put a lot of bullets into this thing very quickly—unless its hide is too tough for bullets. Shooting at it could just piss it off, for all we know. We could try firing warning shots to scare it away, but what if it sees that as a challenge and gets aggressive? Most of all, what if there’s more than one of these things nearby and they come running for us? This thing could kill me or any one of us if we give it the chance or the inclination. If it charges, anyone caught in its path is going to get a tusk through the gut.
Of course, Prust probably knows full well what to do. He knows if it’s the type of animal to travel in packs or by itself, how hard they are to kill, whether the meat can be eaten...
Figuring that he wouldn’t bring humanity to a world full of unkillable predators, I turn to give Steve and Jeanne orders to help me try to scare it away, or failing that, kill it. However, before I can tell them my plan, I hear the report of a rifle. Several shots ring out, followed by a scream.
“Oh, shit, help!”
It’s Tim’s voice.
I spring into motion, heading toward the sound. When I see the creature again, it’s standing over Tim, who lies on the ground, eyes wide with fear. His gun’s in the grass, out of reach, and a large red stain spreads along his pants from his knee. Barking and sniffing, the animal pokes at him with its tusks.
There’s no more time to think. I fire a shot in the air, then aim my gun down, ready to fire again. The animal turns to face me, snarling as it stamps the dirt with its back hoof. Using the distraction, Tim pulls a knife from an ankle sheath and stabs the creature in its hindquarters.
Squealing shrilly, the animal charges toward me, Tim’s blade sunk deep in its skin. Ducking aside, I nearly get gored as it crashes past me, tearing up clods of grass as it goes. Once it’s gone, I lower my rifle and exhale, noticing traces of black blood gleaming on the ground.
“Dammit, stupid shit!” Tim shouts.
“Are you okay?” I ask, running up beside him.
“Aside from getting shot, I’m fine!” h
e yells.
Oh, no.
“The animal didn’t do that?”
Tim grimaces. “It never got the chance!”
“We need a medic!” I shout, pulling off my shirt and tying it around Tim’s leg. If he’s bleeding from an artery...
In seconds, several men and women reach us, including Martina Green, one of our doctors.
“Let me see,” she says, getting to work.
“Which one of you did this?” Tim screams, looking at the men who have gathered. “Was it you, Ed?”
“I hit the animal, I saw it,” he replies.
Tim must believe him, because he keeps going through the growing crowd. “What about you, Steve?”
“I wasn’t there,” he said. “I was with Alexis.”
“It’s true,” I say. “It couldn’t have been him.” Something in the back of my mind is telling me to stop this spectacle—this isn’t the right way to investigate an incident. Right now all that matters is tending to Tim’s injury and drawing up a plan for dealing with that animal, whatever that may be. I’m about to say so when a young man pushes his way through the crowd.
“Hey, it was me,” he says. “It was an accident. I’m so sorry.”
Tim shakes his head and sighs. “Okay, Kyle, thank you. I know you didn’t mean to.”
Now I recognize him, Kyle Hodges, one of the few minors not here with a family member. His parents are living on Cetaski, exiled for ‘gratuitous pharmacological profiteering,’ according to the Dominars. He went from being one of the richest kids in the country to nearly penniless in less than a year. He applied to come to Piskiron because there wasn’t much tying him to Earth, but more important, to prove he wasn’t just a spoiled little shit, as many likened him.
“Will Tim be okay?” he asks the doctor.
“Can everyone give us some space?” says Martina, her brows laced with concern. “Kyle, if you want to help, go get a wheelchair from my office.”
He nods and runs off at a full sprint.
“Everyone else, get back to your jobs. We’ll have a meeting later,” I order.
Quickly the crowd dissolves, leaving just me, Tim, and Martina.
His Human Subject Page 5
