Brutal Alien
Page 59
I tried to force my thoughts away from her, but as the day wore on, all I could think about was that ridiculous human. Didn’t she know what kind of danger she faced by defying me? More confoundingly, did she even care?
***
The Doyan was true to her word, and before long, there was a slight rapping at my door. A young female, about two years over the minimum age to breed, walked in. I could tell by the lines on her face that she had already lost a child.
“Good evening, Yul Volaire,” she said, kneeling briefly.
“Is it evening already?” I asked, surprised. But a glance out the window behind me proved the girl to be speaking the truth.
“I’ve been instructed to assist you with your records,” the girl said.
“What is your name, Yula?” I asked.
“My name is Gretchai Rebof,” she answered, starting to kneel again.
“That’s enough. Yula Rebof, I trust you’re familiar with the technology here?” I asked, looking at her skeptically. She looked like she had barely left the bosom of her Mai, let alone to know the cruel pain of losing her own child. She would never be a Mai. She was one of the last generations of living, full-bred Verians. But rather than feeling like an honor, it seemed more of a curse.
“Of course,” the girl said. It looked like she was ready to kneel at me again, but halted herself when she saw the stern look in my eye. “The Doyan selected me with care. I excelled in the TIF programs during training. I was scheduled to work in the ships, but the Doyan said I was needed here to keep tabs on the…”
The girl wrinkled her long, narrow nose in disgust. Nobody was very fond of the humans, let alone the idea of noble Verian men being forced to mate with them. Humans were the enemy, after all, and the human females thought to be horrifically ugly.
“…keep tabs on the captives,” Gretchai said gracefully. I appreciated her tact. It would come in handy, living in a building with about 600 of the obnoxious creatures.
“Well, I must apologize, but we are very understaffed, or I would give you a tour myself. However, I’m sure you will find the company of Narei to be very agreeable.”
I buzzed for Narei and he came in quickly, surprised when he spotted Gretchai.
“Welcome to you,” he said, kneeling and eyeing me curiously.
“Narei, this is Yula Rebof,” I said, trying to ignore Narei’s prying gaze. He was a little bit younger than me, and it was obvious he thought that Gretchai was attractive. It was funny in a way. His hands brushed away the dark strands of his hair as he gazed at the girl, his eyes unwavering.
“I need you to show her around, explain what is all right to do and what should be avoided at absolutely all costs. Understand?”
“Of course, Yul Volaire,” Narei said, now directing his kneel at me before getting back to his feet. “Come along then, Yula. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I need to get back to my shift as soon as possible.”
I watched them as they headed out of my office without another glance back at me.
“We’re understaffed, you know,” I heard Narei say, leaning down conspiratorially to Gretchai. She giggled, and I raised an eyebrow. Were they flirting? What good would that do? No children would come of their union.
I supposed it was unfair to expect all of the Verians to abandon the idea of love. Just because it was banned to love the humans who would spawn for us didn’t mean we couldn’t raise the offspring in loving Verian homes. Maybe the two of them would end up having a great relationship. Or a meaningless fling. Whatever happened with them wouldn’t matter as long as they did their jobs.
“Humans!” I announced, walking from my office and down the long corridor that led to the areas where the new females were being detained. “I presume your orientation was successful. Your meal will be served in seventy minutes in the dining hall. You are to remember the dining etiquette customary to a Verian setting. Anybody who does not submit to this new change in custom shall be punished. Understood?”
There was silence; there was usually silence, before I raised my voice and barked a little more authoritatively, “Understood?!”
The women murmured, and as their soft voices settled back into silence, I was surprised to hear one woman clearing her throat.
“Why do we have to eat like you?”
It was a voice I recognized immediately.
“What is your name?” I demanded, turning my head in the direction of the voice. It was coming from Cell 3.
“Regan,” she answered. I walked briskly to the outside of Cell 3 and peered inside, searching through the sea of terrified faces until my eyes settled on the only one that dared to look me in the eyes. Even in the dark, the blue of her eyes was striking.
“You are really asking for trouble today, Regan,” I told her, my eyes hard.
“I just want to know. Can’t you people answer a simple question without turning into barbarians?”
I frowned, looking over the terrified faces of the women in the cells surrounding me. They didn’t seem too keen on hearing the rest of Regan’s speech, and cowered deep into themselves, squeezing their eyes closed as if that would make our exchange go away.
“I’m just trying to run the place, Yula. Is it your single-minded mission to deny me the ability of doing my job?”
“No. I just want to understand what good it will do to make us eat like you!” Regan exclaimed, pushing past the tense, frightened bodies of her cell mates until we were standing face to face with nothing but the bars on her cell between us.
I was shocked by the effect; I could smell her acutely. It was a sweet scent that made me want to rid myself of the boundary between us and claim her at once. But that wouldn’t look very good in front of the rest of the cell mates.
“You should think of it as a sort of etiquette training. If you survive the prison, then you may end up being integrated into Verian society. That would be rather difficult if you don’t know the habits and customs of the people you are forced to live with.”
“I would rather stay in prison than interact with the likes of your kind,” Regan said, conviction and anger dripping off of every word out of her mouth. Everybody in the hall seemed to gasp at once, and I raised my eyebrow at her.
“Is that right?” I asked, reaching into my back pocket for the keys to Cell 3.
Regan’s eyes darted to the keys in my hand and quickly back to holding my gaze. She nodded defiantly, a look I was beginning to know all too well. I slowly unlocked the door, making quite a show of it for the females who looked as if they were going to pass out at any moment from the sheer tension of it all.
“You’re going to come with me, Yula Regan,” I said, my lips tight as I opened the door to the cell, ready to strike down any females who tried to squirm past me and make a break for it. We were understaffed; it was hardly the time.
But the females were terrified into compliance and watched in horror as I gripped Regan’s arm hard in my hand and tugged her out of the cell.
“No need to be so rough,” she informed me, her blue eyes darkening. “I was going.”
I ignored her as I tightened security back on Cell 3 and shackled her arms behind her back.
“Really?”
“Silence!”
The human sighed deeply as I shoved her forward and we walked down the corridor to the interrogation chambers. It hadn’t been used in several months; most females had nothing interesting to offer the Verian as far as intel went. Most of them were just grateful that they weren’t killed on sight.
“In here,” I said, pulling the heavy metal door open.
“But it’s so dark in there,” Regan said, and I felt distinct satisfaction at sensing the first bit of fear in her voice.
“There will be light. Enter. Now.”
Regan walked timidly forward, and I sighed, fighting the ridiculous urge I had to turn the lights on immediately to accommodate her and ease her fears. I waited until she was seated before I let the heavy metal door slam shut behind
us. The loud clanking noise echoed in the room as I searched the wall for the light switch. When I finally found it, I took a seat across from Regan, who inhaled sharply at the sight of me.
“You are causing me a lot of grief, human. What is the purpose? Do you really feel so self-destructive?”
Regan frowned and said nothing, so I tried another tactic.
“If you do not start to obey orders, I’m going to be forced to make an example of you! And the rest of your people will suffer.”
“My people?” Regan asked, quirking her eyebrow at me. “They won’t care what happens to me so long as they’re safe.”
“If you keep your rebellious act up, they won’t be,” I promised, holding her eyes hard.
Regan opened her mouth as if to speak but nothing came out. I knew she wouldn’t put the others at risk, whether she claimed them or not. I had seen it for myself already. Still, it was interesting to see just how she reacted to my threat.
“So, tell me then, human, are you going to behave yourself?”
The question seemed to light a new fire within the girl, and she glared at me.
“I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t see why I’m to be your captive. Don’t you find this situation a bit unfair?”
“It isn’t about wrong and right, human!” I exclaimed. “This is a war! And whether you like it or not, you’re on the wrong side of it.”
There was no response. Just the defiant raising of a chin I was beginning to recognize inside out. I had half a mind to press my lips hard over the unimpressed pout on her face and feel the pleasures of her body right then. But something stopped me. She wouldn’t have me. And, I could lose my job.
“Next time you’re in here with me, you are going to regret it,” I promised, holding desperately to my self-control.
And with that, I led her straight back to Cell 3. If that talk wasn’t enough to keep her in line, I would just have to find another way.
Chapter 3
Regan Lawrence
The other women in the cell eyed me suspiciously when the guard deposited me back in the cell. I could already tell that I’d been ostracized. All it took was me opening my mouth to become an “other.”
“What did you tell him?” one particularly brawny woman asked as the handsome Verian strode back down the corridor. “Are you betraying our world?”
“He just tried to scare some sense into me, that’s all,” I mumbled. “I would never betray Earth.”
The woman nodded, but she looked unconvinced. “Sure.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in silence until a sudden bell sounded and the inmates down the hall, women who had been imprisoned much longer than we had, began to cheer. The commotion made the women in my cell look about with fright, but soon we were aware of the cause of celebration. A Verian man, though he was much stouter and about three inches shorter than the first guard (and, not to mention, far less handsome), came to the door of our cells and pressed a button, opening them all at once and releasing us into the hallway.
“You will follow protocol at all times,” he ordered. “You will follow the rest down to the dining hall and find the tables with your cell numbers marked upon them. Wait there for your meals to be served.”
The doors to our cells suddenly opened with a loud clank, and the hallway was immediately flooded with other female bodies, all of us dressed in the same dreary charcoal gray bodysuits. We pushed and shoved our way forward until, inch by inch, we made it to the dining hall.
I don’t know what I was expecting when we got there, but it certainly wasn’t the ridiculously beautiful architecture of a cathedral, paired with the horribly drab conditions of the shoddy prison tables. Each table was octagonal, and about thirty stools surrounded it. I waited until everybody had been seated at the table marked Cell 3 before taking my place.
“Silence!”
The voice of the first guard made my heart nearly leap out of my chest, and I looked up, agitated yet mesmerized by his presence. His silver eyes flashed onto me, then moved quickly along over the heads of the other women in the room. The excited chatter of the other women died down, and we all stared at him quietly, waiting for him to speak.
“My name is Zaine Volaire, but you are to call me Yul, or Yul Volaire. Never, under any circumstances, are you to call me by my first name unless you are looking forward to lavatory duty. Is that understood?”
The women nodded and mumbled their comprehension and Zaine continued to speak.
“The meals will work accordingly. You will stay seated. You are not to move or to speak to anybody but your cell mates. The Pelin will bring the meals to each table in an orderly fashion. You are not to eat until it is clear you are observing proper Verian etiquette. When the bell rings, then you may all begin to eat. Is that understood?”
Again, mumbles and nods, and soon the room was filled with a captivating aroma and floating plates were weaving between the tables. I had to look twice to realize that it was just a trick of the eyes. In reality, there were small Pelin men and women carrying plates high above their hairy heads. It almost made me laugh. Being in so strange a world made me suspend my disbelief. I almost felt as if anything was possible.
“Wow,” I couldn’t help but breathe when the plate was suddenly in front of me. All the women at my table seemed to share the sentiment, and we gazed down at our plates in awe.
The food was so beautiful, and it smelled amazing. We were all so used to living on the few rations we were allowed that it had been years since any of us had enjoyed a whole plate of food like this.
Not only that, but it was delicious, hand-prepared food unlike anything that we received in our baskets of rations. Most of what we were used to eating came from metallic pouches that had the food ready to serve inside. You could heat it up if you wished, but most people didn’t. It was considered common courtesy to eat cold food and save the energy for the air forces.
“Do you all remember what to do? If not, could our veteran prisoners please show the rookies?” Zaine said, though his tone was more commanding than it was asking.
Each of us held our utensils in the air and waited until everybody had been served before a collective shout of “Tusna el ghrabalvex!” rang in the air. It was a blessing over the food and those who ate it that, roughly translated, meant “honor the womb of all things and the laborer.”
It seemed oddly reverent considering what barbarians we had always believed the Verians were. We weren’t allowed to let the plates touch the tabletop below us, and had to maintain a very specific posture to eat in. I felt silly trying to eat like a Verian, but if I wanted to get a taste of that delicious smelling food, I would just have to play along.
“Good,” Zaine said, his masculine voice pleasant with approval. “Now…you may eat.”
The cheering commenced once again from the women who had clearly been in the prison system longer than we had been, and the ghost of a smile flickered across Zaine’s lips. I was almost too caught up in the mysterious masculinity of his face to take my first bite but quickly realized my error when his eyes narrowed at me.
I looked away quickly and brought the food to my mouth, and a sudden explosion of flavors shocked me deeply. The nuances of spices and flavor were something most of us didn’t have the luxury of enjoying for most of our lives, but we had heard plenty about it from the older people in our Zones.
Now, experiencing it for ourselves for the first time left most of us in rapture, while the women who had been imprisoned longer chattered, almost as if they were oblivious to the delicious feast in front of them, but I knew that couldn’t be true. They had cheered at the chance to leave their cells and enjoy a meal.
“Ten more minutes!” Zaine shouted over the clamor of the other girls.
“What?!” I exclaimed on behalf of all the shocked and disappointed expressions of the other women at my table.
Zaine’s eyes focused in on me, and I felt a chill raise through my spine as his handsome features darkened.
He grinned, satisfied with my silence, and a hot rage flamed up inside of me. There was nothing more infuriating than a man on a power trip.
We scarfed our food down as quickly as we could before Zaine made a shrill sound with something dangling around his neck. It looked like a tooth of some kind with a little hole in it, and his silver eyes glittered from me to the rest of the women in the room. “Meal time is over. Return to your cells.”
The older prisoners groaned their complaints, but Zaine said nothing. He turned his back on us and disappeared from the room as a group of Pelin men ushered the women from their seats and down the corridor.
My eyes searched for Zaine, for some reason hoping, in vain, to catch one last glimpse of him. But the hallways were too crowded with bodies, and as soon as we were filtered into the proper cells, the Pelin began to do a head count. Zaine was nowhere in sight, and I sighed, confused by my disappointment.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” the brawny woman asked as soon as we made it to the cell and the guards disappeared down the corridor. She shoved me hard against the wall, and everybody stood back to watch. “Are you trying to get us all killed?”
“No, I-”
“I don’t want to hear it!” the woman exclaimed. “If you fuck up again, even just one more time, I swear, I’m going to-”
“Casey, calm down!”
Suddenly, the woman wasn’t pinning me any longer, and I took a deep breath, glaring at Casey’s back as she was pulled away by a small woman with worried features.
“You shouldn’t bully people like that in here. Do you know what they would do if they caught you? Don’t you get why we’re here in the first place?”