EXILED (The Connected Series)

by RaShelle Workman

  Why would she want to hold still then? She didn’t want to make anything easier on them.

  The woman seemed to read her expression. “Trust me. You don’t want to remain in there very long. It’s full of radiation. Who knows what overexposure will do to your . . . body.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter to her one way or another.

  “Tell me what you want—what you’re going to do to me,” Venus challenged. If she were going to be good, the woman ought to at least answer her questions.

  The woman glanced hastily around the room and then lowered her body, so they were face to face. Her hot breath reeked of dead animal. Venus made a face, struggling to hold back the need to gag. After a moment, she whispered, “We want to know what you look like on the inside. If nothing is revealed through the scan, we’ll cut you open. That’s what I’m hoping for—the opportunity to dig around inside your disgusting alien carcass.” She stood, her hazel eyes searching Venus’s. “You’re going to die. No doubt about it. And I want it to be sooner rather than later.” She laughed, hard and mean. “After some of our more invasive tests, you may wish you were dead.”

  “Cassandra. Why are you talking to it?” a man asked.

  “Advising it to hold still, sir.” She walked to the foot of the table. Venus heard a click and the table started to suck her into a long, white tube.

  Once inside, a bunch of lights came on. The machine began to hum and the round cylinder started to spin. Venus remained still, the space too confining. She wanted out. Some minutes later, the bed started to move, removing her from the tube.

  The mean woman returned. “Did you enjoy that? I hope so. It’s the only test that won’t hurt.”

  Venus shrank away.

  Another woman helped lift Venus back onto the gurney.

  “Helen, let’s begin the first series of tests,” Cassandra said. Venus watched her hook the solution back into the I.V. sticking out of her hand. Immediately, a cold liquid entered her body. “You feel that?” Venus turned away and saw the other woman had a large needle in her hand.

  Venus felt her eyes grow large. Scared, she shook her head back and forth. “No. What’s that for?”

  “Sadly,” she hissed, “you’ll be asleep for most of it.” The needle sunk deep into her chest and Venus watched the red liquid make its way through the plastic, reach the needle and enter her.

  As the liquid packed her veins, a scream filled her throat. When the sound hit the ears, she didn’t recognize it. The pain, unbearable. It felt as though liquid fire had been shoved into her heart and with each beat, the flames built, burning her alive.

  42. In Too Deep

  Michael stood on the other side of the window, watching as the doctors in stark white worked around Venus. After they’d placed her inside a long, round tube, Frank appeared at his side. He flipped on a machine. Venus’s body appeared. He used a mouse to scroll over different highlighted areas.

  “Son, this is beyond fantastic. Look at her organs,” he said, his breath stinking like cinnamon mouthwash and bourbon.

  What a surprise. He still drinks like a fish and smells like a liquor store. He hasn’t changed at all.

  The strange picture showed her entire body. But more than the bones were visible. All of her organs, her veins, could be seen, too. They were highlighted in red.

  “What in the world?”

  “That’s the point. She isn’t from this world.” He looked over at Michael and smiled. “See this?” Michael nodded. “What do you think that is?”

  “It looks like a . . . a heart. Kind of.”

  “Yes, and look here. What do you think that is?” he asked with unabashed excitement.

  “I’d say another heart.” It was the craziest thing. Inside her ribs, which looked the same as humans, there appeared to be, what looked like a human heart, and another, larger one, which glowed.

  “I think so too, Michael.” He patted Michael’s shoulder before rushing to another machine and flipping it one. “Listen.”

  Michael did. He heard a quick beating. “Her heartbeat?”

  “Wait, there’s more.” His dark eyes shone like a kid in a candy store on allowance day.

  Michael turned away and stared at the two hearts on the x-ray. Still listening, he finally heard it, what sounded like another heartbeat. It beat much more slowly. “Is that another heart beat?” he asked.

  Frank nodded. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

  Michael kept listening.

  “And look at this.” He pointed at a strange-looking organ in her pelvis. “See here.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What do you suppose that could be?”

  Michael shrugged. “No clue.”

  “Here are her female organs, which are similar to our females, but this . . . I wonder.” He scratched his head absently. Then he pressed a button and called, “Abe. Get in here.”

  One of the men in the room with Venus glanced over at the window they were watching from and nodded.

  “Some other type of organ to assist with their reproduction,” Michael guessed aloud. It was large and perfectly round.

  “Perhaps,” Frank nodded.

  The man, Abe, walked into the room. “Are you sure he should be in here?” Abe pointed a long, white finger Michael’s direction.

  Michael had the same thoughts, but figured Frank was trying to be fatherly. Or show off. Most likely the latter. Regardless, he wanted to stay.

  “I’m the boss, Abe. And yes, he should be in here. I have my reasons.” His father’s stance and the hard lines on his face seemed to dare Abe to disagree.

  “Fine.” Abe walked over to the machine next to Frank.

  “What do you make of this?” he asked Abe, pointing at her circular organ.

  “I’d guess it’s a part of her species’ reproduction.” Abe scratched his chin.

  There was no way to know for sure. But probably a good guess since its location resided in the same area.

  “What’s most amazing is . . . look at these.” Frank traced several lines that looked like veins, but they were thicker and didn’t appear to have anything in them. Only the outline highlighted in red whereas with her normal looking veins, the whole thing showed red. The regular veins were filled with blood, like a human’s, and attached to the smaller heart. The other set linked to the larger heart, which beat slower, and looked clear.

  Totally frickin cool was Michael’s first thought. The second he spoke aloud. “What’re they for?” He stared at the monitor, waiting for it to magically reveal her secrets. The odd organs appeared connected to the “empty” veins and . . . “Hey, look at this.”

  “What?” Frank and Abe asked in unison.

  “These organs are a lighter red than the human-looking organs.” He pointed at them and then looked from his father to Abe and back to the picture.

  “Yep, you’re right. I wonder what they’re for?” His dad turned to Abe for an answer.

  “My guess is not as much blood or maybe no blood is in those parts of her body. Maybe they’re back up organs.”

  Michael agreed. “Huh.”

  “So what is flowing in and out of them?” Frank asked.

  Abe sighed. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Frank nodded.

  “How?” Michael questioned even though he knew the answer.

  “We’re going to have to cut her open.” Abe rubbed his hands together. The saying, ‘evil scientist’ crossed his mind. He looked to Frank and asked, “When do we begin?”

  “Wait,” Michael said, putting a hand on Abe’s fleshy arm. “Maybe I can help.”

  Abe snorted, which ticked him off.

  Frank looked unconvinced. “How do you plan on doing that?”

  Michael rubbed his eyes, thinking fast. “Well, what if I talked to her? Put me into a cell next to hers and let me try.”

  His father put a hand in his pocket and the other on Michael’s shoulder. Once again, he had an intense desire to fight the guy. Images of his bloodie
d feet, the bruises on his ribs, and the cigarette burns that had covered his legs as a child, snapped through his mind like a slide show.

  Why should I trust this jerk?

  Frank studied Michael, and he wondered if Frank could see the hate he masked. A wide smile appeared on Frank’s face, showing all of his teeth. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.” Turning to Abe, Frank said, “Let him try.” He pushed the green button on the wall and said, “We’re done for now. Lock her up.”

  43. What I Am

  Venus woke to the sounds of screams. She’d been in the fringes of Michael’s mind. His memories and dreams were filled with her. The way he’d watched them do tests. Even though she hadn’t felt any of the poking or prodding first hand, watching through Michael caused her body pain. She’d felt his emotions, too. They ranged from anger to uncontrollable sadness, and guilt.

  As he watched the doctors, he’d thought she seemed so small and vulnerable. His mind kept going back to the picture they’d taken of her entire body. Venus knew they’d seen her alien organs. She saw the man, Abe, and the way he and Frank were talking of cutting her open. Venus knew Michael had saved her, though she sensed his twisted emotions over the decision.

  Gingerly, she sat up. Her body longed to cough. But, she held it in, hoping her captors wouldn’t realize she’d awakened and stay away a while longer. The room (if you could call it a room) they’d placed her in reminded her of jail cells she’d seen in movies on TV. Up and down, her eyes raked every inch of the place. The room smelled of decay, mold and astringent. Dark green or black spots were growing in every visible corner. She guessed it must be some type of mold. A low pitched buzzing sounded from her left. She shook her head, hoping that would get rid of the noise. Stuck a finger in her ear and jiggled, thinking it might be her, but the noise continued.

  She stood and walked toward the sound. It appeared to be coming from—the hall. As she inched closer, her perception changed. Where it’d looked like no wall or door existed, actually pulsed with an invisible current. Electricity.

  No escaping out the front then. At least it isn’t a regular door . . . at least I can see what’s on the other side. The room did have three walls. Sort of.

  Dreary. Off white and hard. Her bed rested against cool cement. The back wall divided in two. The upper half looked like two-way glass. She walked over and pressed her face against it, trying to see what or who stood on the other side. All she could see were her own eyes, her own face, being reflected back. A metal toilet (it looked like aluminum foil) sat to the left, below the glass. Ten steel bars separated her room from another. Everything the same, except someone still slept in the cot.

  Michael.

  A part of her wanted to lash out. Yell. Tell him what a horrible person he turned out to be. But she remembered he’d been the one to save her from cut-happy Abe. He helped capture her, but he’d also saved her.

  “Cret!” She cursed softly.

  Michael rolled over to face her. His legs together, knees bent and hands grasping a book. She wasn’t sure whether he bunched into that position to protect himself from the cold or from her. He still wore the same clothes he’d had on when they went hiking, which made her wonder how many days she’d been held captive. Venus wanted to know why he slept in a cell, like her. Had he upset Frank? She hadn’t seen what’d happened in his memories. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, on this forsaken planet. Flying on Sadraden, that’s where she should’ve been. Instead she’d been stuffed into this awful room.

  My coffin. She kept her eyes focused on the troublesome boy.

  His dark hair poked up in random places. Messy. An image of her fingers running through his hair, smoothing the ends, sent her stomach dancing with fickle butterflies.

  She shuffled to the bars and pushed her face in between two, the cool steel touching her ears. She rested her hands on the bars to either side. They were freezing, but Venus resisted the urge to pull away. The pain helped her feel more awake—alive. She stared at him a moment, watching his face, debating her decision.

  Three. Two. One. “Hello, Michael.”

  He sat, unfolding himself and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Rumpled and glorious and mean.

  “You know when I first saw you I thought you were an Angel . . . of Death,” he whispered, gloomy.

  No point in denying what she knew. She figured truth would be best.

  “I know.”

  He blinked, surprise changing the shape of his face. Michael sat up straight.

  “How—”

  “What are you reading?” she asked quietly, interrupting.

  He peered at the book as though he’d forgotten he still held it. “Oh, it’s by William Shakespeare. You heard of him?”

  “I have. Are you reading one of his comedies or tragedies?”

  He raised a brow. Perhaps wondering how she knew so much, now that he’d discovered she was an alien.

  “A tragedy, I suppose. Have you heard of a poem called Venus and Adonis?”

  “Mmmm, yes. I believe it doesn’t end happily.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He stood. “Um, hey, I’m really sorry, but I need to—” He stopped and pointed at the toilet.

  Gross.

  “Right.” Venus walked back to her cot, lay down, her back to him and placed the pillow over her head. “Ready,” she shouted. While he busied himself, she debated what she should or shouldn’t tell him. In the end, she decided not to hold anything back. Why bother? She’d be dead in a couple of days anyway. Possibly sooner.

  Plus, Zaren could take care of himself. Humans had no way of getting to her planet, their technology millennia behind. Sharing her planet with Michael might be enjoyable. And she hoped it’d help him be less angry with her, with his life. When she’d gone, he could try to be happy. Venus hadn’t had a chance to really talk to anyone in so long. Years. And she wanted to share the best parts of her world with someone. Why not Michael?

  Venus heard a loud noise, which she guessed was flushing.

  Then he yelled, “Hey!”

  Removing the pillow from her head, she asked, “Are you finished?”

  He chuckled. “Yes. What about you? Need to go?” Michael pointed at her aluminum toilet.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m good.” Venus turned and sat, making sure to cover her back side, since they’d put her in a tacky blue-flowered hospital gown. Michael watched with a half-smile, his face pressed against the bars exactly as she’d done. The book had vanished and she knew he wanted to talk about other matters—namely her. Questions practically oozed out of him. Venus tried not to breathe. Afraid she’d spew words he wasn’t ready for. Or worse. Words meant to be hurtful.

  “What . . . are you?” he finally asked.

  For some reason, the question annoyed her. She huffed. “An alien from another planet. Duh.” When he didn’t respond to her sarcasm, she continued, “I’m not going to sprout tentacles and grow another head.” He still watched her, doubt filling every crevice on his face. Venus clenched her hands into fists and pushed down a curse.

  “Well, at least not today. Tomorrow, watch out. I’ll be a two-headed octopus with blood sucking tentacles and three thousand razor sharp teeth.” She glared back, a strong desire to rip his hair out barely kept in check. He stared at her like she was a newly discovered specimen in a Petri dish. Venus had about decided to lie down and roll away, when he asked his next question.

  “What I mean is, are you the Venus poets and writers like Shakespeare have written about over the centuries? Are you the Goddess of Love?”

  She snorted. She couldn’t help it.

  He scrunched his brows together and his face turned a shade darker, whether from anger or embarrassment she couldn’t be sure.

  “I don’t know the first thing about love. My parents gave me the name. They said because I was conceived from love. But that’s as far as it goes.”

  He studied her, as though trying to decide if she
were lying or not. Finally he asked, “Why are you here then? On my planet?” He moved away from the bars and started pacing. Back and forth. His hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Chaotic hair falling across his face.

  She had already decided to tell him everything, but where to begin? Explain that some awful kelarian probably poisoned her, and then sent her here as punishment and certain death. Or enlighten him on his love life. How the Gods had commanded her to assist him in finding true love. Venus snorted. He’d surely laugh. If the tables were turned, she would’ve laughed at him.

  “No answer.” He stopped pacing and turned away from the bars. Venus saw the slouch in his shoulders. He drooped in defeat and went back to his cot. After he’d sat he asked, “Have you heard of a group called The Order of Eternal Fire?”

  She watched his face twist as emotions seemed to overwhelm him. The words barely above a whisper, he said, “They kill humans and then carve markings into the dead bodies.” It looked like the words choked him.

  “The Order of what?” She shook her head. “No.”

  “You’re lying!” He picked up his book and brought it over to the bars. Flipping a few pages, he stopped and shoved the book through. “See this?” He stabbed the page with a finger. “That mark was carved into my mother. It’s what this Order does after it murders people.”

  Venus went over and took the book from him. There was a penciled drawing of what looked like a sun eclipsing a moon with rays shooting all around it. Another circle had been drawn inside the big one. It was oblong and inside was a symbol. The markings also reminded her of an eye . . . She closed the book and handed it back to him. Turning, she went back to her cot. Her knees shook of their own accord. And she felt sick.