His Human Subject

by Stella Rising

  “I get it,” I say, spinning on my heel to face her. “Neither of us has forgotten that. We know I need to stop depending on him. And I will.”

  “I hope so,” Dani says. “It’s not going to be easy if the two of you are together, though.”

  “Maybe. If I ask him not to help me anymore, he probably won’t. He’s cool when it comes to that sort of thing.”

  Dani stops. “You have to tell everyone. Get it out in the open.”

  Looking around, I don’t see anyone who might have heard. Though it wouldn’t matter so much if I came clean. I could stop worrying about people finding out—it would probably feel liberating. Keeping secrets is a pain in the ass—in my case, literally.

  “I agree with Prust, that it’ll be worse if you don’t,” Dani continues.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I say, feeling a weight lifting already. “I’ll do it. I’ll make an announcement soon.”

  Dani steps up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll be there for you, whatever happens. Just do it sooner rather than later.”

  I laugh. “I will.”

  Prust will find a devious, humiliating way to motivate me, I’m sure.

  “Maybe you can have some kind of... town hall? The two of you could make the announcement, then take questions,” Dani suggests.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’s going to suck, but... then it’ll be done.”

  We both smile, listening to the calm breeze shake loose leaves into the air. Then I hear it: footsteps crunching from somewhere behind us.

  “Who’s there?” I shout, wheeling around, fists raised.

  “It’s me,” says Prust. “Alexis, I need you to come with me. There’s a situation.”

  Dani grins. “You don’t need to make up excuses. Lex told me the truth about you two.”

  Prust nods, but his expression doesn’t change. “I wasn’t pretending. This is important. Come with me now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What is it?” I ask, my chest seized by an icy grip.

  “Ms. Long,” Prust says to Dani. “You should head home. Everything is under control, but I need to speak to Alexis in private.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

  “Just try to act like normal. I promise everything will be fine.”

  “Thanks, Dani,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile, despite the unease clawing inside my skull.

  Once she’s gone, Prust and I set off at a brisk pace. I want to stop and ask him to take out my plug, but that’s probably not as important as whatever is going on. We make not for his residence, but his ship; I note that Prust doesn’t uncloak it, requiring me to trust him to lead me inside without accidentally walking into it.

  As soon as we pass through the energy field that keeps the ship hidden, my perception instantly changes to the inside of the vessel. I only stop for a moment to marvel at the incredible transition, then follow Prust to the cockpit.

  “Look,” he says, pointing to a hologram of Piskiron.

  At first, I don’t see what’s different, but then a series of red circles expand out from a point, like ripples in a pond. At the center is a small red dot.

  “We have a visitor,” says Prust.

  The hologram zooms in on the dot, resolving into a new image: a small ship, unlike any I’ve ever seen. Unlike Prust’s elegant, sleek, shiny craft, this one is grungy and boxy, a jalopy of a spacecraft, as far as looks go.

  “Do you know who they are?” I ask.

  Prust shakes his head. “Not yet. That’s a common enough ship model here in the Blight—it could belong to virtually anyone. I can tell you this, though: whoever it is, they do not come with good intentions.”

  “How do you know?” I ask, staring at the alien ship. It doesn’t look especially ‘evil’—it doesn’t have skulls emblazoned on its hull or a black flag rippling from a mast.

  “This is the Blight,” he replies, scowling at the hologram. “This is where the dregs of galactic society come to avoid following Dominar law.”

  “Like me?”

  Prust growls. “You are a runaway who wandered into a rough neighborhood, too naive to know the dangers.”

  Excuse me? Naive?

  “You made it pretty clear how dangerous it would be. How do I know the people on that ship aren’t just like us?”

  “Because there aren’t any people like you out here. Small villages of honest, well-meaning semi-primitive people get eaten alive in the Blight. And if I don’t do something, that’s what’s going to happen here.”

  I turn my back on Prust and the hologram, not wanting to be swayed by the ache between my legs. His protectiveness has gone straight to my pussy, leaving my panties matted to my skin.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  He marches up to me and spins me around, gripping my shoulders so hard it hurts. “This is your show, Alexis. It’s your call to make. I won’t tell you what to do, but if you ever take a single piece of advice from me ever again, it’s this: ask me to blow that ship out of the sky right now.”

  He’s serious. Maybe he forgets I have a little experience with shooting down hostile enemy craft—but I would never have attacked an unidentified vessel in neutral territory just on biased suspicions. That’s crazy. What if this is a first contact scenario between humanity and an entire civilization, and we could end up being close allies in the future? Prust’s request could even start a war. How could he suggest such a thing?

  “I’m sorry, but absolutely not. That’s out of the question.”

  Prust lets go, sneering. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “Oh, am I? You want me to be hostile toward the alien invaders? That’s my thing, isn’t it? You’d actually make a great member of the Anti-Alien League, Prust!” My heart pounds, and I huff in fury.

  “Alexis, you’re a fool. I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt. I care about what happens to you. If these... interlopers... harm you or the colony, I would never forgive myself. None of you would be here without my assent, which makes you my responsibility.”

  I want to stay mad at him, but he’s making it difficult. He cares about me—I get it. But why can he only see the crisis, rather than the opportunity?

  “If you’re so sure they’re bad, why even ask me? Why not just destroy them and not even tell me?”

  “Because this is your future,” he sighs. “I can’t keep deciding it for you.”

  Leaning into his body, I kiss him. He returns it, embracing me tightly, enveloping me in his warmth and musk.

  “I have to find out who they are and what they want,” I say. “We will take every precaution: armed guards will watch them every second.”

  “Okay,” Prust replies. “Fair enough. But if I detect they’re powering up weapons, I will blast their ship into singular atoms.”

  I grin. “Fair enough.”

  Breaking from his grip, I turn to go.

  “Wait,” Prust says. “Will you do something for me?”

  “What’s that?”

  He opens a drawer under his workstation and takes out a small black bracelet. It looks like a plain band, but knowing Dominar tech, it’s definitely more than that.

  “What’s it do?” I ask.

  “It’ll monitor your vital signs: heart rate, brainwaves, blood-oxygen levels, immune-response—everything to indicate if you’re okay.”

  I don’t even have to think about it; I take the device and put it on. “Why a bracelet?”

  Prust smiles. “Because I doubt you want nanites.”

  The Dominar nanotech that spreads throughout the body? Lots of humans back home have accepted them for their medicinal and practical purposes—like universal translation and easy communication—but accepting alien machines into my body is a step too far. In fact, speaking of...

  “You’re correct. No nanites. And can I take out the plug now? I did as you asked and told Dani about us.”

  “Yes, you did,” he says, unzipping my pants.


  I groan loudly as he removes the plug; the chemical compound had stopped burning some time ago, but the soreness lingered. As soon as the device is gone, Prust spreads an ointment into my rear, leaving not a single trace of the pain.

  “Thank you, sir,” I say, getting my pants back on.

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for taking the bracelet. I’ll feel a lot better knowing you’re okay. If I get any sign of trouble, I’ll be there in seconds.”

  “I can take care of myself, you know.”

  Prust cups my cheek in his palm and kisses my forehead. “Good. Prove it.”

  * * *

  I get back to my tent just as the ship descends into Piskiron’s atmosphere. Retrieving my rifle, I meet Dani, Jeanne, Ed, and Steve, who are all armed and waiting. The colony rouses quickly, fueled by rumors and fear.

  “Everyone stay calm!” I shout into a megaphone. “Stay inside if you’re worried, but do not instigate any hostile actions! This could be a historic moment for New Earth—do not be afraid!”

  The five of us pile into one of the colony’s electric carts and drive toward the approaching lights. We keep our weapons holstered or slung around our bodies. Several citizens follow behind us on foot, curiosity outweighing their fear. I suppose once you’ve lived through one alien invasion, it stops being so surreal.

  “Reminds me of my first car,” Ed snorts as the ship settles into a meadow more than a mile from the settlement. “Can things rust in space?”

  The craft is bigger than I imagined from seeing it on Prust’s scanner. Approximately five stories tall and wide as a city block, it looks large enough to haul some serious cargo. Maybe they’re traders?

  “It looks like two ships tried to eat each other and gave up halfway through,” adds Dani.

  “Hey, at least they have a ship,” Steve counters.

  “Guys, can the chatter,” I say, heart racing. Prust’s warning replays in my head, despite my efforts to dismiss it.

  Voices go silent as a hatch opens up at the bottom of the ship. A sole silhouette stands in the door, illuminated from behind; as it steps out, we see it belongs to a man. Above average in height for a human, he strides with confidence fitting his rather muscular physique. He smiles at us as he approaches, hands empty and held out at his sides. Handsome features make my stomach leap—warm blue eyes; an angular jaw; thick brown hair that extends to his shoulders, covering creamy tan skin. Most noticeable, however, is a series of dark ridges, like chevrons, crossing his forehead. It’s certainly an alien look, but not entirely unpleasant.

  Is this the man Prust was so afraid of? I had expected some kind of alien warlord, with a necklace of bones or a giant cleaver strapped to his back. Instead he wears a tight black jacket boasting a series of pockets—a practical piece of gear, I imagine. Armor plates with green honeycomb patterns hang over his thighs, shins, chest, and shoulders. Finally, my eyes can’t help being drawn to the bulky, curved plate covering his hips. If it really needs to be that large...

  “Lithko hangra ji!” he says, smiling and waving.

  “Hello,” I reply, stepping forward. “Can you understand me?”

  His eyes and grin both brighten. “I can now, yes. I had heard reports of activity in this sector but didn’t expect to find Earth humans. My name is Vahree. It is a joyous pleasure to meet you.”

  Extending my hand for a shake, I smile. “Alexis Miller, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

  He accepts my hand, gripping it softly, letting me feel his fingers’ surprisingly smooth skin. It’s hard to believe that a short while ago, Prust was hell-bent on ending this man’s life. I know better than to be taken in by a friendly greeting and an attractive face, but already I feel at ease. Is it possible Prust’s overreaction was a sign the colony is about to take a huge step forward on the path to success? What if my people are about to find out that we really don’t need the Dominars? Prust may say he wants me to be happy and for us to flourish, but what if he feels differently in his heart?

  “So, how is it you know English?” I ask.

  Vahree points to his head. “The Dominar galactic language database has all known dialects.”

  My smile fades slightly. I know Dominars can download languages directly into their brains via nanite, which is how they came to speak every tongue on Earth with perfect fluency, but that begs an important question: “Are you with the Dominars?”

  The alien laughs, shaking his head. “Souls, no. Omnivox is an occupational necessity, so we access the database. All purveyors do.”

  Purveyor? I assume he means some kind of trader. I wonder if he’s obtained the language database through unofficial means, or if his mildly unusual speech is just a facet of his species. The Dominars all speak Earth languages naturally. I’d be very interested to learn more about this from Vahree.

  “Does this mean you have nanites?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Never. Only neural implants. Not as effective, but not as invasive.”

  I nod as though I understand how implants differ from nanites. “Of course. Well, welcome to Piskiron, or as we call it, New Earth.”

  “New Earth? Very fitting. May it be a shining new jewel in our galactic domain.”

  Dani coughs from behind me, patting the stock of her rifle.

  Oh, right.

  “Vahree, I have to ask: are you here alone, or are there more of your people on board?”

  He smiles, a disarmingly friendly expression despite his unusual face. “I came alone, rest assured, and invite you to thoroughly inspect my ship. I could give you a tour now, if you like.”

  “A tour? As long as my security detail can come,” I say, internally placating Prust’s presumed objection. I doubt I’d need it, but better to be safe.

  “Of course.”

  “Then yes, I’d love to.”

  I can imagine Dani’s biting her tongue about the inside hopefully being nicer than the outside. Not that she should talk, considering the way our apartment used to look.

  Vahree smiles. “Wonderful. Please, follow.”

  I do as asked, and trail behind him toward his ship. Dani, Ed, Steve, and Jeanne come too, hands wrapped around their guns, just in case. We step inside, on alert. My heart thumps.

  Entering a dimly lit corridor, I notice a faintly sweet aroma, like a subtly fruity aftertaste from a cup of tea. I also can’t help noticing that even in the low light, the ship looks somewhat dirty. When we enter a large deck, there’s debris everywhere, most of it metal. Perhaps for salvage?

  Sighing, Vahree waves his hand around. “I know, not as pretty as Dominar vessels. I don’t mind clutter, and maintaining the ship takes too much time for aesthetics.”

  “Of course,” I say. “Other than for hygiene and sanitation, my people have little time for cleaning and decorating. Your ship and our homes may not be works of art, but they get the job done.”

  “Exactly,” says Vahree.

  Looking around, we don’t see any caches of weaponry or cages full of snarling alien beasts. We do see sacks of alien grains, canisters of alcohol, and numerous piles of scrap, but nothing to warrant Prust’s wrath.

  “Do you ever fly with a crew?” I ask when we reach his ship’s cavernous docking bay. Big enough for several smaller vessels to land, it’s home to numerous large cargo containers.

  “Yes,” says Vahree. “When a job calls for it. If I need their assistance, I can call them. And you, how did a community of humans arrive on a fringe world like Piskiron?”

  I chuckle. “That’s a long story,” I reply, feeling my stomach rumble. “Are you hungry? I could tell you about our colony over something to eat, if you’d like.”

  Vahree rubs his flat stomach. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vahree and I chat about the wildlife here on Piskiron while I fry up some strips of t-dog in tomato sauce. I wanted to give him a little taste of Earth, to show how our original world and this one can provide something new to the people of the Blight.<
br />
  “It smells very appetizing,” he says as I serve the meal.

  Considering Dani and I barely had any ice cream and that was supposed to be dinner, I’m actually fairly hungry. She’s standing guard outside our tent with Ed and Steve, while Jeanne speaks with the rest of our people, keeping them calm and providing what information she can.

  As I pick up a fork to eat, Vahree points a device on his wrist at the food. A beam of light shoots out at the meat, and after a second the device beeps.

  Vahree smiles. “Had to scan for edibility. This world is foreign to me as well.”

  “I understand,” I say, returning his friendly expression. I would have been shocked if he hadn’t somehow tested our food. “In fact, we could really use a device like that ourselves. We’re still analyzing everything we can, but without a laboratory we only have chemical tests and careful experimentation.”

  More than once a colonist has gotten a bad rash or swollen tongue employing the universal edibility test, and it’s a long, slow process.

  “Would the scanner work for my people?” I ask.

  “Yes,” says Vahree. “It can be calibrated for any species. I would gladly negotiate a trade for as many as you could use.”

  “That would be fantastic.”

  This is amazing. A tool like that could save us years of testing and improve the morale of the entire colony. Experts back on Earth had a variety of predictions for how we’d fare as a colony, ranging from comfortable sustenance to utter devastation—but if we can harvest the right plants and animals here on Piskiron this soon, that will put us far, far ahead of where anyone could have imagined.

  We both try the meal I’ve made; he groans, leaning his head back as he savors the taste.

  Vahree smiles and takes another bite. “You call this flavor tomato? It is pure pleasure.”

  I laugh, surprised. “Yeah, where I’m from we put it on practically everything.” I’d love to ask him if his kind have a strong sense of taste and smell. Or maybe food on his home world is very bland? Then again, maybe it’s just new and different.

  “On Earth?”