“Yes. She has mentioned that too.” He seemed embarrassed again, looking down at his feet as we walked.
“Is, uh, Miriam here?” I asked, guilt gnawing at me. I actually felt bad about embarrassing the guy who’d just abducted me.
“You’ll meet her.” He smiled a little. I guess we had a joke about contractions now. “It is a small ship, used for research purposes. Most of the time just the two of us are on board.”
“Is she the blonde Austin’s hot for?”
“Hot for?”
I shrugged. “I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s interested in a girl.” I turned my eyes downward, swallowing as I worked up the nerve to ask my next question. I wanted to hear him say it. “Is that what she is? A regular girl? You know, so I can let Austin know. That might be the kind of information he wants to have before he asks someone out. Which he absolutely will not do, by the way.” I was rambling, but it comforted me to be talking about things I knew in a place that was so strange.
“Lexi.”
I looked up when he said my name, sparking inside as if he’d just handed me one of the stars from the night sky and I’d swallowed it. He’d stopped walking and was staring at me, his eyes urging me to understand the words he hadn’t said yet.
“We are like you, and we are not.” He put a hand against my back and led me to a window, and for a moment the warm feeling of his touch was the only thing I could pay attention to. But then he made a motion and the lights inside the corridor dulled. As I looked out at the beauty of the stars, I was overwhelmed by it again. What would it be like to live here? All I saw from the windows in my house were white vinyl fences and countless monochromatic houses.
“My mother was from—where you are from.”
“Idaho?”
He laughed, and it was as if for one second whatever weight and responsibility he obviously carried slid off, making him look like a completely different person.
“No.” The weight pressed down on him again as he spoke. “She is from your planet. I am a hybrid.”
“Have you met her?”
He avoided my eyes. “No.”
“She hasn’t had the honor of being sucked up into your ship in the middle of the night?”
He chuckled quietly, without humor. “She would not want to meet me.”
“I guess I’m not the only one with abandonment issues.”
A pained look passed over his face again, and he opened his mouth. Then he paused, shaking his head slightly. “It is not her fault. All I am to her is a horrible nightmare that feels too real to forget.”
“Okay.” I looked out the window again, knowing I shouldn’t ask any more, even though there was a lot I’d like to know on the subject of alien hybrids.
I shook my head. I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.
“You still don’t believe me?” He nodded. “I understand. Denial is a common reaction.”
“Common,” I said quietly. “So where are all the other lucky winners who landed a free trip aboard a space ship?
He chuckled again. “You will not—won’t meet any tonight. Maybe never. As I said, this is a small ship. We do not want to risk making a large impact or attracting attention, especially in a small community such as this.”
A metal door opened as we approached it. When I stepped inside I halted, my breath catching in my throat. I remembered this room, or one like it. The machines that lined the room were familiar, as was a muffled feeling of dread in my stomach.
Micah walked ahead of me. He opened a door and pulled out a gown that I remembered too well, then turned to me, holding it out.
“No,” I said, backing away as the warning screams buried deep inside me broke closer to the surface.
Micah’s face softened, and his brow creased with sincerity. “I am not going to hurt you.”
“So is that the traditional dress of your people? Or do you want me to prepare myself to be poked and prodded at like a lab rat? I know how you see me. I’m nothing to you. This is part of that whole superior species thing you’re so keen on. You apparently also haven’t grasped the meaning of the word host. A host would, like, bring me cake or something, not conduct weird experiments on me.” Another dose of calm coursed through me. “And stop doing that,” I said, trying to fight it. “You have no right to take away my feelings.”
He stepped toward me and took hold of my arm. “You are not nothing to me.” His voice was tight, as if he’d suddenly become the confused mess a boy his age should be. Then he looked at his hand on my arm, his eyes widening slightly.
“Did you forget your rubber gloves? I haven’t been properly sanitized.”
He dropped my arm, and his face pinched up in frustration. “I’m just trying to make things easier for you. There is no point fighting this. I don’t want you to be afraid.”
“Being afraid is part of being human.” A surge of calm had set in again, leaving me with only logic to fuel my words.
He held up the gown again, his face hardening slightly. I fought hard not to give in, keeping my arms at my side.
His eyebrows raised. “You are not making this easy. I have honed my mental ability to the point that you should be completely compliant. I am beginning to think studying your brain will be of great value to us.”
“You can study our brains all you like.” My words sounded much calmer than I would have liked, but at least I was talking back. “You’ll still miss the stuff that really matters. You’ll be smarter and stronger than every other life form, but you’ll be lonely and pathetic and bored out of your minds.”
“Either you put it on, or we will put it on for you.”
“We or you? Who did it the last time?” Even though I wasn’t exactly capable of embarrassment at the moment, I planned to log the information away for when I could be properly angry and mortified.
His face colored again. “You needed medical care. I was the only one on board at the time.”
I enjoyed watching his discomfort. At least one of us was feeling something at full power.
“Will you be putting it on, or shall I locate Miriam?” he said stiffly. “Although I’m beginning to think it would take six of us.”
“It would if you gave me my feelings back.” I dropped the blanket and began to pull at my shirt, something that should have mortified me but didn’t.
He turned around quickly, still holding the gown toward me.
I left my clothes in a pile on the floor and grabbed the gown, slipping it over my head. There were enough nerves left for my chest to tighten as I stood there, barefoot on the slick floor, dressed only in the thin gown.
“Now what?” I asked.
Micah turned around, regret in his eyes again as he looked at me. He glanced at the examination table, then pulled up a chair. “Would you like to sit?”
“Whatever you say.” I sat, and he brought another chair so he could face me. This cold, formal meeting was so different from our picnic on the church lawn. I searched Micah’s eyes, looking for the vulnerable boy I’d thought I was getting to know.
He only sat up straighter in response, but his fingers fluttered together in the nervous way I was beginning to recognize. “I can answer some of your questions, if you like.”
“Will I remember the answers?”
He tipped his head. “You might. Some people remember a lot, some barely anything. How much do you remember from your last visit?”
“Bits and pieces.”
“You may as well try.”
“Okay.” I held out my wrist. “What’s this about?”
“I have installed a tracking medium, and what you would call a monitor. It informs us of your life signs, so we know you are alive, but also if your heart rate goes up or down. That gives us clues about what you are going through.”
“Why do you want to know about all of that?”
“Well, obviously we are invested in you.”
“Invested.” I nodded.
“We want you t
o be well.”
“I’m touched. I guess it doesn’t do to have your test subject keel over.”
He frowned. “No. But we are also interested in learning as much as possible about humans, how their minds and emotions work.”
“Why? You have emotions.” I was sure he’d pretty much run the gamut of them in a matter of minutes.
He fidgeted again. “Of course, but there are differences, both physiological and cultural. Our people believe in bridling emotions. It is especially vital for those who work in fields such as mine.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Maybe he’d let a few emotions leak out before, but he wasn’t about to admit it. I didn’t like seeing him all cold and collected, not after I’d scrounged up every trace of emotion I could find inside myself and dumped it at his feet. I wanted to see him blush again. I wanted to see him weak. I looked him directly in the eye. “Do you love? I mean, in the same way humans love? Do you kiss?”
Judging by the way he’d timed the remainder of detention down to the second, I couldn’t imagine him to be a wildly exciting kisser, unless of course he took to the task with as much passion as his consumption of chocolate cake. Still, the image of him closing his eyes, immersed in the experience supplied me with enough fuel to make me hope he wasn’t paying attention to my heart rate at the moment.
His eyes dropped to my lips briefly, then darted around the sterile room. His face turned slightly pink and he threaded his fingers together, fluttering them slightly. “We do love. Although our people tend to be more reserved about it, and it is not allowed for students and professionals in my field. Also, we do not demonstrate it with lip contact, although I have seen it done in your movies, when studying Earth culture.” He cleared his throat. I could see I’d hit my mark.
“Love is not allowed?”
“They inhibit our ability to feel those things. It can interfere with our studies, and our research, and could cause severe complications.”
“Of course, another one of the ways we humans let sentimental things get in our way.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “So you’ve never felt ...”
He shook his head, blushing again.
Was it possible for him to blush at the mention of feelings he didn’t have? I was getting off track. There were more important things to learn than whether or not alien-boy ever got all hot and bothered.
“What’s with the eyes?” I asked. “I mean, why can’t I get your eyes out of my head?”
“I formed a connection with you the last time you were here.”
“I knew it. You messed with my mind, right? Like you did to Principal Archibald?”
“In a way. The connection I formed with you was something special.”
“I bet you tell all your abductees that.”
He blinked in frustration. “That bond was how I was able to communicate with you to let you know I was coming for you.”
“Thanks for that. So you brainwashed me.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t force you to come. That is beyond my ability. I can communicate with you to a certain extent, I can urge you, but I cannot force you—at least not with my mind.”
That answered one question. If I hadn’t come outside willingly, they had other ways of assuring my cooperation.
“Although I have to admit that the mind is more vulnerable during sleep,” he said.
“But you can make people forget. I don’t know why I’m bothering with these questions. You’ll make me forget them, like last time. And you’ll make new memories to explain everything.”
I folded my arms over my chest, slipping my fingers beneath the soft part of my underarm. I pinched it hard. I guessed Micah’s mind voodoo kept it from hurting as much as it should have. Still, it was hard to keep from wincing. With any luck, I’d have some physical evidence that this really happened. If it was really happening.
“It is true that I manipulated your memories a bit.” He leaned toward me, as if he had a secret to tell. “I don’t want to do it again. The truth is many subjects remember things whether we try to manipulate them or not. I know you are strong. I would rather you know what is happening to you.” He looked down. “At least for now.”
“But you’re going to keep drugging me.”
“It’s not a drug, but I suppose it works in much the same way. We are able to manipulate feelings to some extent, especially fear and animosity.”
“I guess that comes in handy. Kind of like how a spider paralyzes its victim before eating it.”
Micah sighed. “It certainly has made our research easier. In most cases.” He smiled slightly.
“Will you stop doing it? If I promise not to scream and claw at you and stuff?”
“I will try, on an experimental basis, only to use it when necessary. I suspect we can learn more this way, and I have to admit, trying to use it on you when you want to fight me takes up a good deal of my energy.”
“Yeah, I hear I have a bit of a temper.”
A look of shame passed over his face, and his eyes studied the floor. “There will be times when you will want my influence,” he said quietly.
“You look sorry,” I said stiffly. “Why don’t you just let me go?”
“I can’t.” He looked up at me. “You might say that I am under close scrutiny.”
“Because of your rebellious tendencies?”
“Because of my tendency to be weak.” There was bitterness in his voice.
“Weak or sensitive?”
“It is the same thing to my people. You might say that my career is of special interest to my supervisor. Because of his desire for me to succeed, he watches me carefully. He knew the moment you were taken on board. If I let you go, he will most likely verify my conclusions himself.”
The look in his eye told me that would be a very bad thing. I paused, biting my lip as my eyes travelled over my rat cage. I had to ask. “So what are you going to do to me?”
He flinched. “I cannot tell you everything right now. But tonight we will be learning from how you respond to certain pictures and other stimuli. We should begin soon.” His fingers fluttered again.
“How did you land this gig, anyway? Aren’t you a little young to be, like, an intergalactic surgeon slash researcher or whatever?”
“I am privileged to be here. There are many who would be elated to have this position.”
“Congrats.”
“Thank you.” He said it without pleasure, but he clearly hadn’t picked up on my sarcasm again. “You could say I have connections. As for my age, more is expected of young people on my planet than on yours. I am more capable than any of your doctors.”
I rolled my eyes again. The guy was not short on confidence.
“So, how long have you been, you know, abducting people and experimenting on them?”
His eyes darted away and back, and he cleared his throat. “You are my first—”
“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re my first alien stalker.” He didn’t seem to catch my attempt at humor. “So I’m really more like a guinea pig than a rat.”
“Test subject.”
“Would you stop using that word?” I spat.
I guessed he’d done what I’d asked, and had stopped stunting my ability to feel fear and anger. I wondered if I’d be sorry I’d asked. But I wanted to prove to him that I could handle it, or he’d dose me up again. I took a deep breath.
“I’m a person.” I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back the tears that suddenly stung my eyes. “And I’d really like to get back to my normal life with my relatively normal family and friends, so if we could just get it over with that would be great.” I stuck my arm out, staring him down. “You want to stick a needle in me or something?”
“Lexi, you don’t understand.”
My heart jumped against my will when he said my name again. That only made me angrier. I clenched my jaw as I wiped my eye with my arm. “Cut away, whatever you need to do. Let’s get this over with.”
&nbs
p; He scooted his chair toward me, and reached out a hand. I glared at him as his fingers brushed my bare arm. He winced, quickly pulling away and dropping his hands in his lap.
“Things may never go back to normal for you,” he said. “I did not intended for this to happen. But when I saved your life and took you into our ship, I chose you. You are my”—he pressed his lips together as if he were searching for a word that wouldn’t send me off the rails—“you are mine.”
Interesting choice. My chest tightened as I tried to stay calm. The declaration didn’t have the meaning it would have under normal circumstances.
“So I’m a Lifer?” I asked, remembering my conversation with Foilhatgirl. Maybe those people knew what they were talking about after all.
“A Lifer?”
I took a deep breath, determined not to let another tear slip out. “Yeah. According to my sources, for some people it’s a one-time deal. Others are in for life, and their kids and their kids’ kids. I’m back so ...”
His eyes avoided mine. “The tests from your last visit confirm you to be compatible for further study.”
“So—Lifer.”
Chapter 11
I stared at the curtains, which were already glowing with the dull morning light, my mind foggy as I tried to piece my memories together. Last night, I was convinced all of it was real. Today, safe in my bed, it was hard to believe.
An idea struck me and I rolled out of bed. There was a soft thud as I hit the floor, and I untangled myself from my fuzzy purple blanket. I scrambled to my backpack to pull out a notebook and pen, then scooted back, leaning against my bed with my knees up to hold my notepad. I slid my pen back and forth across my wrist as I collected the memories that drifted to the surface of my consciousness.
I scribbled down every sight and sound and snippet of conversation I could remember. The most incredible part was floating upward, looking down at the city below and up at the sea of stars above. There was a space ship, much like you’d find in any respectable sci-fi movie. Micah and I had argued about a lot of things, but at least he’d answered some questions. He’d told me about his species, and about the monitor and tracker he’d installed. He’d explained how his people could manipulate emotions.
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