Rick was a cosigner on the account. I’ve just gotten my first cash payment as a collaborator, Rick thought. Now it’s official. Then he started thinking about what else he could get and found himself browsing the net for guns, tractor accessories, and the antique muscle car he always wanted.
A little over two weeks had gone by since Rick had left the Provenger Nation Ship and Nwella had raped him while he’d been sedated. She’d been pleased with herself. She’d done something she shouldn’t have, just like last time with the wild man on the beach, except a head hadn’t rolled this time. She felt like she had finally completed something of which her father had deprived her. She had to admit to herself; she had done it out of spite. But there was another reason.
When she’d met Rick Thompson that first time, something about him had intrigued her. Something about his smell meant freedom. Something of his look was exotic. When she’d gone to check on the progress of Carson and Rick, sent by her father to keep her busy, she’d had no idea what she was about to do. She had merely been going to ascertain their progress and report back. But she’d acted on impulse.
She’d seen through the wild white hair to a face that was strong and young. It seemed to promise her something. Whatever it was, she could not resist. He had been helpless, sedated. Syrjon had left for a distant section of the ship and she knew they were alone, except for the unconscious Carson. She had secured the cloak to that cell so no one would see or walk in. This was a Provenger recovery room, so there were no monitors. Only the viewing room was a danger, and she’d made it secure. She could have her way; she could dominate him and take from him something sacred. The thought excited her.
She was now sitting on a lounge in Observation Deck Beta when she received a message through her com-monitor that she was to report immediately to the science deck. She had been thinking about her triumph over the human and now had this summons. A panic ran through her as she realized how unusual this was. She had never been called to the science deck before in this manner. Her job was now to be the available unwed daughter who had recently declared her separation from the family of the Science Director, Synster the Provenger. She didn’t get officially summoned there. She had brought him his meals occasionally of her own accord, when she was still considered his full daughter, but she was not an employee.
Did he know? Her paranoia approached slowly, as if from a distance. When it caught her, she became overwhelmed. If he knew, he would accuse her of being a deviant, and she would become even less than his outcast daughter running occasional errands at his request. And that was the best that could happen. She had already declared her separation from the family. She no longer had the protection that her former status offered.
As the shuttle hurried her toward the Science Section, her angst grew. She was certain as she walked to the threshold of her father’s office that her time, even as an outcast of the family, was over. Things would now get worse. She entered the office prepared to accept her fate.
Synster looked at Nwella with disappointment. She had so much promise. Her sexual deviance on Earth ten years ago had been excusable, barely. And he’d forgiven her after her prompt action to save him from bleeding to death. Even though it had been her scream that day that distracted him during the hunt, he blamed himself for the injury. He had glanced away from the lion for only a moment. That was enough to give her the advantage to inflict a grievous wound. He should not have allowed the distraction.
And even if he’d known the encounter with the wild man was by her provocation in pursuit of adventure, he would have killed the nasty devil anyway. That day was so unfortunate. Synster felt he still owed her something.
“I’ve called you here to request that you act as agent for me in regards to contact with my primary human operatives. I’m heavily involved in the Harvest and ensuring that the Algorithm is regularly aligned with events unfolding on Earth. This will give you something to do, keep you involved with our progress. It may lead to employment in a field superior to where you’re headed now.”
Nwella bristled at his last comment. They both knew she was headed nowhere. She was angered by this expression of disappointment and his power to dispense favor on the unworthy. She now felt even more isolated. But her anger was tempered by her relief that she was not there to be disciplined. He must not know that she had slept with the human; otherwise, he would not have given her a role involving more interaction with Rick. How interesting. How relieving, she thought.
“What would you have me do, Father?” Nwella asked innocently. “Are you sure I’m qualified?”
“Nwella, I’ve been talking with you about this Project since it started. You know exactly what we need to do and how to get it done. Despite your little stunt in this office with Rick Thompson, I know you were just trying to irritate me, and you succeeded. So we’re done with that now.” He paused as if to let the words sink in. “I know you are done with that,” Synster added.
The problem was that Nwella was not done. She had only started. “Alright, Father. I will do it.”
“I need you to handle the following people.” Synster handed her a list. She looked at it and immediately saw Rick’s name at the top. She didn’t look any further. How sweet, she thought. In her mind, all kinds of twisted thoughts mingled with weak notions of her official duties.
“Linked to each name is a summary of their specific missions and overall goals. I will, of course, be keeping track of their progress, but I want you to handle their intermittent contact. Do you think you can do that?”
Nwella looked at him. She didn’t know if she had acquired some kind of exotic virus, had some strange genetic mutation, or was just plain twisted. What prevented him from understanding her state of mind? She had divorced herself of all concern for his project. She was essentially an outcast among her own people. Had he lost his mind asking her to handle these humans for him? Was he still clinging to some ill-conceived hope that he had not completely severed their relationship with his assault on her? One of them had gone mad, and she wasn’t sure which one it was.
“I think I will be able to handle it very well,” Nwella replied confidently with her sweetest daughter voice. “You have my guarantee.”
“Excellent. This will free me of much of the concern I’ve had with these individuals. I believe they are all convinced to cooperate and remain fully committed.”
“This will require regular transport to Earth,” Nwella clarified, trying to sound responsible. “Am I to assume the funds for this are available through the Project account?”
“Yes, they are. That is not a problem.”
“Very well. I shall return to my quarters and begin studying their histories. Am I dismissed?”
“Yes,” Synster replied. “Report to me at the standard interval. And Nwella, thank you.”
She nodded at him and exited. She felt the smallest twinge of remorse because of the way he said “thank you.” But she knew he said it because he was glad to get rid of the duties, not because he appreciated her. If he only knew what she would do with her new assigned duties, he’d probably kill her in a rage.
The evening was cool but not cold, and Rick was sitting by the fire pit designed into the pavers of his patio. He’d put everyone to bed and come outside for a little fresh air. He needed to think and to listen to the sounds of the night before turning in. Nwella arrived, cloaked, around the side of the house, and moved slowly and silently to the back of Rick’s patio. She didn’t expect any interactions with humans, so she was still wearing her public gown, rather than the standard, ugly gray operational clothing. She looked around quickly for the dogs and, not seeing them, moved closer, studying as an anthropologist might observe a primitive tribe.
He looked so much younger now without the hair, though he’d lost some of the wild look that she admired. If he would take that silly looking hat off, he would almost look like a Provenger, except for his smaller stature. Both times she’d seen him he hadn’t been standing. The first time he’
d been sitting. The second time, of course, he’d been on his back. She wanted to see him stand. She walked around him curiously, hoping he’d do something, but he just kept staring off into space. For a moment, he raised his head, as though he’d thought of something and might get up, but then settled back down again. She circled silently to his side, sat on a wall bordering the patio, and waited.
Rick had been deep in thought, trying to calm himself from all the issues coursing through his head. If he failed in some way, he’d never forgive himself for the destruction that would follow, either to his small family, his friends, or the world in general. His biggest problem was that he couldn’t bring himself to define what failure or success would actually be. Obviously, the greatest failure would be him and Carson on a slab with the Provenger’s damned pain machine hooked up while being eviscerated. That was the main thing he was trying to avoid. But obviously, preventing that was not the most ambitious of his goals. Rick knew he had to stop thinking about it. It would drive him insane.
He was just about to go inside, make sure Shainan was really in bed and wasn’t up looking for wine, when he realized he wasn’t alone. And he knew exactly who he wasn’t alone with. He could smell her. She had either gone upwind of him on purpose or by mistake. Either way, he was struck with fear. He knew he couldn’t react. His first idea was to try to get some kind of revenge, to kill. For once, he had an advantage. He knew she was there while she believed herself to be concealed. Then he realized a better way to use his advantage. He spent no more than a moment considering this ruse and jumped into it.
“Nwella,” Rick said aloud with the most passion he could muster. He waited.
Nwella’s mind raced. She was fairly certain he hadn’t seen her. She’d scanned him for the tag he had that might disrupt her cloak, and it seemed to be absent. She was sure the cloak had stayed intact. She’d been completely silent. While searching in vain for a response, she was completely off balance.
“I think I love you, Nwella,” Rick continued, again with all his heart, punctuating the profession with a woeful look toward the heavens. That should twist her up a little, he thought. I have no idea where I’m going with this, but it’s better than doing nothing.
Nwella was immediately relieved as she realized that he’d been thinking aloud. She was simultaneously thankful she hadn’t replied. She was about to. Her mouth was open, but no sound was there. What a catastrophe that would have been. Then she thought about how she could use this to her advantage. This human had just professed his love. This sounded like something from samples of the great human literature she browsed with the considerable free time she’d had since they arrived. Maybe this could be another version of her run on the beach with the wild man. She thought about how free she’d felt, how warm and wild that day had been, until it ended so badly.
With that thought, she started feeling warm considering the possibilities right here, now. Could she take him again? Would he have her, here, of his own accord? She thought he might. Had this been what she came for?
Getting caught was now a greater concern. This was not a trip for adventure and she was here on Project funds. Her motions and location could be tracked, though it was unlikely. Then there was the family and the dogs. It was late and they were all inside. She looked around. At the far edge of the yard, another building, she believed for the purposes of keeping animals and their feed. She would lead him there. If things didn’t work out, she would stun him and figure out a plan from there.
Come on, you little flesh-eating bitch, Rick thought. What’re you gonna do now? Now you think I’ve fallen for you? You’re either going to tuck that away and pull it out some day when you think you can use it, or you’ll assume I’m a little more of a whack job than I am. Either way, you’ll be wrong. Advantage Rick.
Nwella, still under cloak, walked out in front of Rick about twenty yards away with the barn beyond her at the edge of the yard. While still cloaked, she stepped out of her sandals and slipped out of her gown. What warmth it had provided was now gone, and her skin began to tighten in the cool night temperatures. Her hairless pores tensed with the genetic memory of goose bumps as her body adapted to its exposure to the stony high desert air. She dropped her gauntlet on her gown and stepped out of the mechanism’s cloaked perimeter.
She appeared before Rick, wearing nothing but the leisurely breeze that fondled her, standing gracefully on her toes, leg muscles and abdomen flexed, arms slightly separated from her postured torso, elbows and wrists delicately bent, neck straight and slender, chin raised, and eyes wide. It was the pose she’d been taught for seducing and manipulating Provenger males. The low moonlight glared off the left length of her figure, from her bald head to her smooth heal. She presented herself for Rick to take, knowing full well that if he did not act, she would.
Oh shit, Rick thought. The plastic cup of cheap red wine dropped from his hand as he looked upon something that only dreams can conjure. Was it to be a wonderful dream or a nightmare? When she sat on Synster’s desk that first day he’d seen her, she looked almost naked and he’d almost lost control. Now she was genuinely naked, and Rick did find himself losing control. He could smell her scent again. The way she was standing, it was obvious what she had in mind. I must be in hell, he thought, again. So much to deal with, so much stress and confusion, and this goddess that I want to hate so badly continues to play with me like a toy.
He found her so attractive, and yet she also appeared evil, with her bare scalp and no eyebrows. It was difficult to get around. It was a strange look. It was exciting. And she appeared so young, probably in her late teens, Rick thought. He realized the absurdity of the statutory rape laws in this situation but still thought it best to cover the issue before things got too serious.
With their Recombinant keeping them looking young, he estimated she was probably sixty years old. He then realized he had absolutely nothing to base this on. His mind raced over the consequences and he figured, what the hell. She raped me first. Now, will I end up making love to her, or will she throw a tag on me? Then I’ll wake up on a slab being fileted to the delight of school children. Will she treat me well, or will I get heated up as tomorrow’s leftovers?
At this point, Rick didn’t care anymore. She was beautiful and she was his if he wanted her, maybe. At that moment, “maybe” was good enough. His rejuvenated body had been trying to deal nobly with Shainan in his bed all these nights, and he was growing tired of restraint. At times, Shainan’s beauty and her immediate availability made him feel like he was going to explode. Now Nwella was here, his for the taking, equally as beautiful if not more so, precisely because she was so different, freaky different, glowing in the moonlight.
Looking at things strategically, if he did not respond and she somehow compelled him or punished him, he would relinquish all power. If he did respond, he would also relinquish power but could perhaps make up for that during the sex act. The very act gives the man power, he reasoned. If they became lovers, well, then the door was completely open to whatever opportunities he could arrange, but only if things worked that way with Provenger. Let’s face it, he thought, we’re treading in uncharted territory.
He slowly rose from his chair and walked toward her. She turned to walk away. Rick could immediately tell she was leading him toward the barn. Good enough place for sex, he thought. Or to kill me and suck the blood from my body, he conceded. She wouldn’t go through all this drama to just walk away from me. That was for sure. Something was going to happen.
She was moving with such poise and elegance. Rick knew she’d probably been trained for all this, no doubt to lure males a lot more intelligent than him to submit to her influence. And she must know she looks good. Damn, Rick thought, mouth slightly agape.
But Rick suddenly realized there was a flaw in her plan. She was unaware that between her and the barn, on the ground in the bone dry desert dust, where the sprinkler didn’t reach and no grass grew, were desiccated pieces of the Opuntia Fragilis, or Potato Ca
ctus, an especially nasty succulent whose small fragile sections littered the edge of the yard. They perpetuate and distribute themselves by having their thin and villainous thorns of about an inch long stab into the flesh. They stay there along with a trillion microscopic barbs that don’t want to come out and seem to want to inflict pain. The entire cactus pad breaks off from the larger plant and follows the thorn, and the victim, wherever they may go. And with every bump and movement, other additional thorns take root in the flesh. The dogs know where they are and avoid them. They even learn how to carefully pull them off their paws with their teeth; at least, the smart dogs do.
Though completely enraptured, his basic human practicality and compassion took over. “Nwella, don’t. Stop! Don’t go over there,” he said, trying to project a whisper. Rick wasn’t sure what to say, as he didn’t want to ruin things by giving her the wrong impression. How do you tell a sexy naked alien in mid-seduction that she might step on a cactus? So he didn’t. Instead, he added, in another quick whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want…”
Primal Estate: The Candidate Species Page 26
