Stargazer
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Copyright 2014 Melanie Matthews
Cover Photograph Copyright Ase/Shutterstock
Stargazer is a work of fiction.
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
About Stargazer
Ava is an anomaly. She has the appearance of the enemy alien race known as Stargazers, with her lavender hair and eyes, but the human capacity for love and forgiveness. Any other captured Stargazer would have been executed, but not her—defying long held notions of who the invaders of Earth really are. Julius Pallas, the leader of Sanctuary—an outright dictatorship, encased in a dome to keep out Stargazers and the human Resistance—has been absent from the adoration of his pious citizens ever since her capture—as she’s being held in a doctor-ridden mega-facility known as the Corporation.
Ava has amnesia—not knowing who she is or where she came from. She rejects that she’s a Stargazer, but she isn’t entirely human either, with the strength to crush a man’s bones. The key to everything lies with Pallas, who orders her torture and imprisonment inside the Corporation. When the two finally meet, Ava will discover her true identity, her connection to him, and why he’s been alone for a millennium without her. Now that he thinks he has her back, he’ll discover how greatly she’s changed, and how her destiny may just ruin his murderous empire.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Chapter 1
My head was on a metal ring. I thought I was naked, lying on a cold, hard table, but I was covered with a thin, white gown. But for all the warmth it provided, I might as well have been naked. Goosebumps sprang up on my arms. I was shivering. My teeth were chattering. The room was bright with a white light—too bright. Another light—yellow—hovered above my head. It was just out of my line of vision so my eyes didn’t hurt from the bright illumination. I didn’t understand all the lights. Why?
I heard footsteps. Who could they be? What are they looking for? I wanted to get up and flee, but my body felt like it was paralyzed. I couldn’t even move my big toe. I couldn’t speak. But I could hear. The footsteps, like boots, were heavy—loud. I could hear heels too—click-clacking—like what a woman would wear. And then there were softer-soled shoes that would have barely registered if I hadn’t been trying so hard to listen—to understand where I was and what I was doing here.
I could see but nothing from what is above my head…very little to see at my sides too; the bright lights and the white walls were my only clues. It was still a mystery. The room was very large. The ceiling was high.
I heard the footsteps come closer. It sounded like a stampede. I was shivering more and more. It was so cold—so very cold.
“Can she hear us?”
The voice was distant, yet close; it was confusing. But the voice was a woman—however that didn’t calm me. She didn’t sound warm. She was clinical…unfeeling—dangerous.
“Yes. She’s afraid.”
The voice was male—caring. Yes, I was afraid. But why wasn’t he helping me? Surely, he could see that I was in pain, cold, shivering, upset, unmovable, and barely covered. I wanted to scream for help, to plead at the top of my lungs, to yell and yell and yell until my voice gave out. I wanted them to cover their ears as if I had personally wounded them. I wanted someone to let me go, for I wasn’t worth having, screaming and screaming like a maniac.
“Afraid?”
The woman sounded unsure, confused. Why wouldn’t I be afraid? She would too if she couldn’t move, freezing, with possibly dozens of people staring at her half-covered body. Who was this woman to doubt my feelings? Was she blind? Could she not recognize fear?
“I’m surprised as well. We didn’t expect this.”
The man was surprised? And who’s “we?” More importantly—who am I? Why was it a shock I wasn’t supposed to be afraid? I racked my brain, thinking, thinking, thinking back over how I could have possibly gotten into this painfully bright room with strangers. As I thought, I remembered nothing—absolutely nothing. I didn’t even know my name. I began to shiver again, but not from the cold. I was afraid, yes, of the people, of the room, but I was more terrified of not knowing—not knowing who I was.
“She’s having a seizure.”
The voice was male but unknown. His voice was deep but not frightening. I didn’t know if he was a doctor, but my tremors were not the result of a medical condition. I was shivering from absolute terror; the terror of not knowing—anything.
I heard the rapid steps of the heels across the floor—click-clack—click-clack—click-clack. No! Not her! I wanted anyone but her! I didn’t know her, but she scared me so much.
“Step aside!”
It was the soft-spoken man from earlier. Yes, he was the one I wanted. He would take care of me. The click-clacking stopped. I felt a warm hand on my arm. I knew it was him and not her. She would have been ice cold—just like her unfeeling heart. I shifted my eyes to the right. Then I quickly shut them—that was the direction to the yellow hovering light above my head. I wanted to open my eyes again, to see him—yes! I saw the facial outline of a man’s features—but the light hurt too much. The light went off. He must have sensed my pain. My eyelids flew up and I beheld the man looking down upon me.
“Don’t touch her!” yelled the woman. “She’s dangerous!”
I was dangerous? How could I be? I couldn’t move, and I had no idea who I was.
“What about a little compassion?”
The young man—tall with brown hair parted to one side, neat, wearing a white lab coat—had looked up and was staring at someone. I shifted my eyes to the left and that was when I saw her. She was in the distance but closer than the others in the room who still seemed to be wary of me. Her hair was platinum blond and she wore a red dress with red heels. She looked so out of place in that white room. She was wringing her hands together with blood red nails. Her perfume was making me nauseous. It was too…flowery. I had been afraid of her, but as she stood there, looking nervous, she seemed rather weak.
Her fists clenched. “You want me to have…compassion?”
She spat the word out like it was poison on her tongue. Her nostrils flared. Her eyebrows lifted. Now she seemed quite the menace I had thought her to be.
“They’re not all bad,” said the man softly.
The woman’s arms shot down, almost glued to her sides. Her fists were still clenched. Blood was quickly rushing to her fingertips.
“Not all bad?” she repeated, struggling to pronounce each word. She lifted up one hand and pointed to the young man. “We brought you in because you have experience with these”—she waved her hand at me with a disgusted look—“things.”
She called me a thing. I wasn’t a thing. I was a human being. I knew that while lying there on that cold table. But I didn’t know why I knew I was hum
an if I couldn’t remember anything else. I was aware. I believed that I was like the rest of the people in the room. Yes, I was humanoid, but only the young doctor felt like my true kin. He was soft and gentle. His warm hand on my arm sent flames of heat all throughout my body. I reacted to him not only as a friendly companion, but as a female would react to a male. He made me feel safe and I wanted him to embrace me as his own.
From that, I knew I was right to think of myself as human, but what did the others think I was? Especially the “Red Woman” as I dubbed her. What was her purpose? What was her agenda? What would she do if the nice doctor abandoned me and left me alone?
“I’ve only experimented on the dead. Dr. Hinder was the expert on…live specimens.”
I wanted to jerk my arm away from his grasp, but I couldn’t move. Who was this man? I thought he was my savior, but he was just as bad as the Red Woman. He experimented on corpses. And this Dr. Hinder, whoever he was, experimented on people while they were still alive. Where was this frightening doctor? Is he nearby? Am I about to be…dissected?
I was surprised at my level of understanding. I could identify, analyze, and extrapolate. I was not totally brain dead as to the world around me. The only malfunction I suffered was my lack of memory. Who was I? After that was answered, everything else would make sense.
The Red Woman placed her hands on her wide hips. “Dr. Hinder is dead. You are the primary physician in this facility. He was your mentor. Surely, you learned something from him.”
The man looked sympathetically at me. He had blue eyes like sapphires. It was calming like the water in the ocean. I remembered that. I remembered the water—swimming, diving, and the watching the sun set on the horizon. I was very happy, but I wasn’t alone. Someone was there with me, but they were just a shadow in the water. But I was safe with this person; I loved this person. I felt my insides heating up, reacting to the doctor’s eyes, and my lost love. Where was he? Did he know that I was here? What couldn’t I see his face? What was his name?
“I learned everything from him,” said the doctor, interrupting my worried thoughts.
I noticed the doctor was defending himself and Dr. Hinder. His voice had a bit of an edge to it. I was glad he was standing up to the Red Woman, even though I was terribly afraid he was going to cut me open and study my organs.
The Red Woman took two steps forward. The click-clack of her red heels was like a thunderous boom in my ears. I wanted to cover them, but my hands were plastered to the table. Even the doctor’s warmth didn’t melt the unseen ice covering my body. Only my eyelids could move and my eyes. I was glad for that. I could shut myself off from the world at any time. All I could do was hear and I had a plan for that. I would reminiscence about the water—the waves crashing—crashing all around me—drowning out this horrible world I’d been chained to.
“Then why is she afraid, Dr. Goode?”
His name was Goode. That gave me hope that he was actually a good person—somehow his name and his character had become one.
“I-I don’t know.”
He rubbed his thumb against my skin—away from the observers. I felt like I was on fire. I thought he was trying to soothe me, to make me feel better, but I was overcome with intense affection for this man—a loving affection—as a woman would have for a man.
“Well, let’s cut it open and see.”
The voice came from far away—a man’s voice. He called me an “it.” Could he not see that I was human—female? Why was I being treated like this? What did I ever do to these people?
“I want to get a consult,” said Dr. Goode. “I’m an expert of the body, not the mind.”
I wanted to dispute that. He sensed that I was afraid. He was aware of feelings. He felt for me—or I hoped he did.
The Red Woman chuckled. That was even more frightening than her scowl.
“I know of whom you speak. He’s untrustworthy. I thought this rebelliousness was contained in the Mental Department, but it seems to be affecting Physiology as well.”
She gave Dr. Goode a knowing smirk. I didn’t understand the exchange, but I wanted to jump up and hit her. I didn’t like that she was smiling in any way at Dr. Goode. I felt like he was mine.
Dr. Goode ignored her comment about his conduct.
“If Dr. Valier is such a problem, the Corporation would have seen to his dismissal.”
“Do you find fault with the Corporation’s guidelines?”
“There is not fault. You are though, at fault, by your earlier statement. You bemoaned the fact that Dr. Valier was untrustworthy which means you are in disagreement with President Pallas.”
The others in the room gasped.
The Red Woman’s face actually turned red. “I am not in disagreement, doctor. I am loyal to the Corporation, unlike some people.”
Her eyes shifted to me. I didn’t understand.
“Dr. Valier is loyal to Pallas, as am I,” said Dr. Goode. “Our last evaluation was three days ago. We passed with flying colors.”
“Others have cheated the system,” she pointed out with a smirk.
“Yes, they have,” he agreed, “but a day didn’t pass before they were found out and duly punished.”
I shivered at the word “punished.” I ran through a list of mental images: belts, whips, chains, chains with spikes at the end, and beatings—clenched fists slamming into vulnerable parts of the body. I shivered again.
Dr. Goode caressed my arm with his thumb. It helped but not by much.
The Red Woman clasped her hand together, as if in prayer, and bowed her head. “Pallas, the Benevolent One.”
Everyone, including Dr. Goode, echoed her devotion. If this Pallas man condoned human experimentation, then I wanted no part of this worship service. Everyone, even Dr. Goode, were my enemy, although, I desperately wanted him to be on my side, wondering if by staying my dissection, he was good, and not as radical as the others in the room.
“Fine,” said the Red Woman after she was done giving praise. “You can call in Dr. Valier. But I will be allowed in on the meeting.”
“That’ll be too many people. We need her calm.”
She took another step forward—click-clack. “I am the president’s liaison. I will not be excluded.”
I shivered again. I didn’t want her there. Dr. Goode sensed my distress and rubbed his soothing thumb against my skin.
“If Dr. Valier disagrees…” Dr. Goode trailed off.
“He will not disagree.”
“You may be the president’s liaison, but he is the president’s nephew. Who do you think comes first: family or the worker?”
The Red Woman gasped. I could tell that being called “worker” was upsetting. She thought of herself as something more—more special to President Pallas. I was upset too. I thought this Dr. Valier would be helpful, would delay my execution, but if he was the president’s nephew, then I couldn’t see how I could trust him. And for that matter, I didn’t see how I could trust Dr. Goode, who wanted me to see him.
“Well, if I’m a worker, then you’re a worker!”
Dr. Goode smiled. It was a nice smile. “I already knew that.”
He seemed to be throwing it back at the Red Woman that she was oblivious to her place in the Corporation. Again, she thought she was special, but she was just another worker bee in the great hive.
The Red Woman narrowed her eyes at Dr. Goode. “Medusa, locate Dr. Loren Valier.”
My eyes shifted, looking for this…Medusa—what a strange name, yet familiar—but no woman appeared. Instead, part of the wall changed near me, from white to black. It was a screen and finally, someone appeared.
“Doctor Loren Valier is located in Quadrant 9—Level 6—Floor 30—Room 310.”
It was a female voice and she did look…human. But there were tubes coming out of her head attached to machines all around her. There was a lot of flashing lights and different colors on the equipment. She seemed mechanical in her movements, as if she and the machines were one. As I c
onnected her name to the tubes on her head, I was vaguely aware of a woman with the same predicament. Instead the tubes were moving, and at the end they had mouths with fangs—snakes. It was a scary image so I quickly put it out of my mind. I was scared enough.
This Medusa didn’t seem scary though. I was actually sad for her, if she were a human, attached to wires, hooked up to machines, spending all day and all night, looking for people.
“And what is he doing there?”
The Red Woman found Loren Valier’s position to be unwelcome. I wondered if Dr. Goode and the others felt the same way.
“I will ascertain,” replied Medusa mechanically.
We all waited as she pushed different buttons with lights flashing all around her, and turning her head at different angles as if she were processing something she didn’t understand.
After some very long seconds, Medusa’s head became still. “I have the knowledge you seek. Doctor Loren Valier has a direct message for you.”
“Oh?”
“Go to hell.”
Dr. Goode chuckled lightly beside me. I would have laughed too, but I couldn’t move my lips. I was however, laughing on the inside. A heard a few chuckles from the others, but it was quickly muted. I didn’t know if it was funny what Dr. Valier said or how it was said by the mechanical search engine Medusa.
The Red Woman sighed loudly. This wasn’t the first time Dr. Valier had told her off. If he really was the president’s nephew then I assumed he got a lot of freeway, and that was why despite her disdain of him and his supposed disloyalty, he was still here…wherever he was. And alive—not dissected like I was sure would happen to me.
“Bring him on visual.”
“Processing,” said Medusa.
Within a few seconds, she disappeared and the screen was black.
“Lights,” commanded the Red Woman.
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