Careless

by Kelly Goode

  ‘Are you dangerous?’

  ‘Not to you or your kind. Jaktten didn’t come to Earth to start a war. There was enough fighting on our home planet. The desquamaters proved a fearsome enemy. We lost a lot of good soldiers fighting them. Our King eventually ordered us to flee, but they followed us and for that, I’m truly sorry, because now they won’t rest until they’ve destroyed this planet too.’

  ‘We have the means of fighting back,’ Lydia replied, thinking about Sheridan and the other agents who constantly battled against the invasion.

  ‘Is Adam here?’ Hetti asked, suddenly finding the blanket on her lap more interesting than meeting Lydia’s eyes. ‘I wanted to thank him too.’

  ‘He’s asleep in the medical bay. He stayed awake all night watching over you, but asked me to call him when you woke up. Shall I do that?’

  Hetti smiled and her cheeks blossomed with colour.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Ok, I’ll be right back.’

  Lydia moved away from the bed, but Hetti called her back.

  ‘Do you think you could bring me a mirror please?’ she asked shyly. ‘I probably look a state.’

  ‘Considering you nearly died, you look great.’

  Hetti looked down at her hands and frowned at what she saw. ‘Do I? I very rarely take on a human form, but this feel different. My skin seems different, so I wondered what my face looks like.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can find.’

  Lydia headed back into the laboratory where she found Helen and her hulking companion deep in conversation. He was just as tall as she remembered. His long dark hair was tied away from his face and his blue eyes kept scanning the room, as if searching for hidden dangers, but at least he was wearing green scrubs rather than shredded clothes.

  ‘Can I help you with something?’ Lydia asked.

  ‘We were looking for Hetti,’ Helen replied. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She seems to have responded well to the treatment and her injuries are healing. She’s awake if you’d like to speak with her.’

  ‘That would be great. This is my friend, Viktor.’

  The woman’s face flushed as red as her hair, which would have been endearing if it didn’t send a spike of jealously through Lydia’s gut. These two were more than friends. Viktor stepped forward and offered his hand, which she reluctantly took. She got a weird vibe from him. One that was familiar, but she couldn’t place.

  ‘Thank you for helping us. Hetti means the world to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she’d died.’

  As they shook hands, Lydia’s sleeve rose, revealing the edge of the stitched bite mark on her arm. Viktor looked at it and his brow furrowed.

  ‘That looks nasty,’ he said. ‘What happened?’

  Lydia pulled her arm away and adjusted her sleeve.

  ‘I cut myself on one of the pieces of machinery here,’ she lied. ‘It’ll be fine.’

  Viktor shared a glance with Helen, who raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Before he could answer her, Lydia gestured them closer.

  ‘Come on, you said you wanted to see Hetti. She’s through here.’

  That was enough to distract Viktor from questioning her further and they both followed her from the laboratory into the theatre, where Hetti had fallen back to sleep.

  ‘Where is she?’ Viktor asked.

  ‘Right there,’ Lydia replied.

  They both looked at the sleeping woman and frowned.

  ‘If this is some sort of joke,’ Helen said, ‘it’s not funny. Did Chief Melman put you up to this?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked to see Hetti and there she is.’

  ‘That’s not Hetti,’ Viktor growled and Lydia recoiled as his eyes elongated into the same shape as the ones she’d seen the night before. His skin swelled as if something moved beneath it, something that wanted to break out, and terror rose inside her.

  This man was a jaktten too.

  ‘Calm down, Viktor,’ Helen said, placing her hand on his arm.

  ‘I’ll calm down when I find out where Hetti is.’

  ‘I’m right here.’

  Lydia looked at the woman in the bed, grateful she’d woken so she could clear up the misunderstanding.

  ‘Hetti?’ Viktor said, as he inched closer to the bed. ‘Is that really you?’

  ‘Of course it is.’

  Helen covered her mouth with her hand. Her pale blue eyes were wide, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Lydia asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Viktor replied at the same time that Hetti said, ‘no.’

  Helen took Hetti’s hand in hers.

  ‘You look different. Like really, really different,’ she said, and then turned to Lydia. ‘What did you do to her?’

  ‘You mean apart from saving her life? She lost a lot of blood, so we gave her a transfusion and stitched her wounds, both internally and externally. I don’t understand what the problem is.’

  Helen released Hetti’s hand and indicated Lydia should follow her out of the room again. Viktor stayed behind. He looked deeply shocked when he embraced the woman in the bed.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Lydia asked, and Helen rubbed her brow, obviously unsure how to answer.

  ‘I don’t really know how to say this,’ she eventually replied, ‘but Hetti is old. I mean, really old. I’ve seen her human form and it’s nothing like the young woman you have in that bed.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Did you give her something while you were treating her, like a medicine that could have reacted with her DNA?’

  Lydia shook her head, but then the answer came to her.

  ‘It must be the blood.’

  16

  Lydia held the mirror in front of Hetti and watched the changing expressions on the woman’s face. They were all simmering beneath the surface: disbelief, wonder, excitement, fear.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, as she prodded her cheekbones and then her chin. ‘This isn’t my normal human form.’

  ‘I can’t explain it either,’ Lydia replied. ‘Not yet, but I’m going to conduct more tests. I’ll ask Adam to run your DNA through our sequencer again.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I don’t want Adam working on my DNA.’

  ‘He’s not going to judge you. No one is.’

  Hetti looked down at her hands. ‘I don’t want him looking at me differently; wondering if at any moment, I’m going to shrivel up and turn into an old woman again. I just want to go home and forget this ever happened.’

  She looked at Viktor, who up until that moment had stood in silence with his arms folded across his chest.

  ‘You’ll always have a home with me,’ he said. ‘The colony may support Erik’s rebellion, but I’m not giving up without a fight.’

  Lydia shook her head. ‘It’s safer for Hetti to stay here. We don’t know if there will be any other side effects to the human blood transfusion.’

  ‘She’s leaving with us,’ Viktor replied, and his eyes flashed amber, once again confirming her suspicion that he wasn’t human. ‘You can’t keep her here.’

  ‘I can’t, but Chief Melman can. Maybe I should see how he feels about her leaving without proper authorisation.’

  Helen stepped forward and grabbed Lydia’s injured arm to stop her initiating her communicator. Lydia winced and pulled away.

  ‘Please don’t call the chief. I know you’ve figured out that Viktor is an alien too. We’ve had a really shitty couple of days and I don’t need ISCU detaining my boyfriend.’

  Viktor placed his arms protectively around her waist and nuzzled the side of her neck.

  ‘He’s your boyfriend,’ Lydia repeated, wondering how a woman like Doctor Helen Peters had come into contact with a jaktten.

  ‘Yes,’ Viktor replied. ‘We don’t use such terms on Jakttera, but I am hers and she is mine.’

  ‘But you’re
an alien.’

  ‘That I am, but it seems even a stubborn, former-prince isn’t impervious to love like I once thought.’

  ‘You love each other.’

  Lydia heard the disbelief in her voice, but Helen smiled at Viktor and nodded.

  ‘It’s crazy, I know. I’m as much a woman of science and order as you, but some things are above logic, like love.’

  Lydia’s thoughts drifted towards her mysterious saviour.

  ‘Are there any issues between you, seeing as you’re different species?’ she asked.

  ‘I think that’s a little personal,’ Viktor said, and Lydia’s face coloured with embarrassment.

  ‘I didn’t mean physically. Aren’t you afraid that you might lose control and bite her?’

  Viktor’s eyes narrowed. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I know how dangerous it is.’

  Lydia stroked the wound beneath her sleeve subconsciously.

  ‘What if you made a mistake?’

  ‘I would never be that careless.’

  ‘But what if it happened? What if a jaktten bit a human he was trying to help?’

  Hetti stared at Lydia with renewed suspicion and she knew she should stop rambling, but it felt as if the wound was heating up, forcing her to speak whatever was going through her mind.

  ‘Tell me what you would do if you bit a human by mistake.’

  Viktor glanced at the woman he claimed to love with a pained expression, as if only just considering the possibility that there could be a time he might lose control around her.

  ‘I would never forgive myself,’ he whispered. ‘A jaktten bite could kill her. Or worse, turn her into a monstrous human-hybrid.’

  ‘Are there ways to reverse the effect?’

  ‘Not that I know. Why the sudden interest?’

  Lydia’s wound burned, as if lava flowed through her veins. Her heart rate increased and a sudden hunger flooded her body. Viktor must have noticed the change in her temperament as he stood protectively in front of Helen. Lydia inhaled deeply and fought against the voice in her head that told her to strike out.

  ‘Purely scientific interest,’ she finally said once she’d gained control. ‘The more I learn about your species, the more I’ll be able to help them in future. Hetti is not a prisoner; she’s free to leave at any time.’

  ‘I’ll take care of her,’ Helen said. ‘I promise.’

  Lydia nodded and turned her attention to Hetti.

  ‘Call me if you notice any changes. No matter how small.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Adam will be upset that you went without saying goodbye.’

  Her face softened, but only for a second.

  ‘Tell Adam to forget he ever met me.’

  17

  Lydia paid the driver his requested fare and got out of the taxi. The sky had darkened significantly since she’d left work and thunder rumbled overhead. The air tasted salty inside her mouth whenever she inhaled, which was a sensation she’d only ever experienced beside the sea. It was strange how many scents had bombarded her during the course of the day. Chemicals, perfumes, even body odours; aromas she should’ve been immune to seemed stronger than ever. She discreetly sniffed the neck of her jumper, which still held traces of cedar. It reminded her of waking up in another man’s bed this morning and heat blossomed across her cheeks as she thought about “J” undressing her.

  Lydia was grateful that it was still early enough that Don would be at work, as it meant her inquisition would be delayed until after she’d indulged herself with a long, hot bath and a glass of wine. Freya and Billy were also spending the night at their respective friend’s houses, so there was no one to disturb her plans.

  No sooner had she thought that, she clearly heard the scrape of her neighbour unlocking her front door.

  ‘Lydia? Lydia, is that you, dear?’

  The door opened and Lydia sighed. She remembered she didn’t have her handbag, which meant she didn’t have her keys to make a quick escape.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Harris. It’s me.’

  The little old lady shuffled onto her front doorstep. She was wearing a navy skirt and matching jacket. Her grey hair was immaculately curled in a bun on top of her head, but she was wearing too much white face powder and too-bright red lipstick, which made her look like a clown.

  ‘What are you doing home?’ Mrs Harris asked. ‘Have you been fired?’

  After Hetti had left with Viktor and Doctor Peters, Lydia had woken Adam and told him she was going home as her migraine had returned. As predicted, he’d been angry that Hetti hadn’t said goodbye, but Lydia wasn’t in the mood to coddle his feelings and told him to get a grip. She’d been a little harsher than was warranted, but her emotions were swinging like a pendulum.

  ‘Of course not,’ Lydia replied to the prying old woman. ‘I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early to rest.’

  She automatically placed her hand over the bite mark on her arm. Although for Mrs Harris to notice it, she would have to possess x-ray vision. Yet Lydia could almost feel the skin once again burning, as she thought about the alien that had given it to her.

  ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

  ‘No,’ Lydia gasped. Not that it was any of the old woman’s business but in order to get pregnant, you had to have sex and she hadn’t been intimate with Don in months. That was a clear indication that their marriage was over, and yet he acted as if nothing was wrong.

  ‘Well I’m glad to hear that, dear. You’re far too old for a baby, but keep an eye on that daughter of yours. I’m not so sure about her. She has teenage mum written all over her.’

  ‘Freya is a good girl.’

  Mrs Harris snorted. ‘She needs a firmer hand. I saw her drinking and smoking with a group of boys last week. They were in the park playing music and dancing.’

  Lydia shook her head.

  ‘Don would never allow Freya to smoke.’

  Again the woman snorted. ‘That husband of yours is hardly a role model for good behaviour.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Lydia rubbed her forehead, as pain stretched across her eyebrows, as if the skin was splitting beneath them.

  ‘I saw him in the park too,’ Mrs Harris replied.

  ‘Smoking?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, but I’ll tell you something - he wasn’t alone.’

  The old woman’s face blurred in and out of focus, as the pain in Lydia’s head increased.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re implying, but if Don wants to go to the park, I can hardly stop him. He probably went there to run. He likes to keep fit.’

  ‘I’d be more concerned with who he runs after, dear.’

  Lydia wobbled on her feet. ‘I need to go inside and lie down, but I left my handbag at work. Can you get me the spare key that we gave you for emergencies, please?’

  ‘You do look a little peaky. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?’

  ‘Just get me the spare key, Mrs Harris.’

  Mrs Harris huffed and shuffled inside her house. She returned a few minutes later to place the key in Lydia’s outstretched hand. She unlocked her front door and gave it back so Don wouldn’t know she’d been locked out.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No problem, dear. That’s what neighbours are for. I hope you feel better soon.’

  Lydia smiled weakly and was about to step inside when she heard her name again.

  ‘Wait, Lydia. I just remembered what I came out here for. Have you seen Mr Harris?’

  ‘Your cat?’

  ‘Well I hardly mean my husband. He’s been dead for twenty years.’

  ‘I haven’t seen your cat at all this week.’

  Mrs Harris’ wrinkly face fell as she scanned the street. ‘He hasn’t been home all day. I’m worried about him.’

  ‘Cats like their independence.’

  Lydia didn’t add that if she was Mr Harris she would rather live on the streets than with an overbearing owner.

  ‘Not Mr Harris. He always co
mes home for his tea. I even made him smoked mackerel today. It’s his favourite. He usually smells it a mile away. Have your kids been feeding him? Could he have snuck inside your house?’

  Lydia’s stomach lurched at the thought of eating smelly fish, although the craving for rare steak quickly took its place.

  ‘Mr Harris runs a mile whenever he sees me. He wouldn’t willingly come inside my house.’

  Mrs Harris frowned, and her saggy red lips downturned like two thin worms.

  ‘That’s because he doesn’t like you dear,’ she stated.

  ‘The feelings mutual,’ Lydia replied under the breath, and then said louder, ‘maybe he’s found a mate.’

  ‘What do you mean by a mate?’

  ‘Like a girl cat. A partner.’

  Mrs Harris looked horrified as she pressed her hand over her chest as if she was going to keel over from a heart attack.

  ‘Unlike your husband, Mr Harris does not engage in casual acquaintances.’

  ‘Cats come home when they want to,’ Lydia replied, ignoring her jibe about Don. She stooped down and picked something up from behind one of the plant pots bordering the path between their joined properties. ‘You can’t keep them on a leash like a dog. They’re not submissive.’

  Lydia held up a golden disc so Mrs Harris could see it and the old woman gasped.

  ‘That’s Mr Harris’ tag. It has my telephone number on it. Now if someone finds him they won’t know who he belongs to. They might keep him.’

  She looked as if she was going to burst into tears and Lydia felt a moment’s compassion for the lonely, busybody. She sighed and shut her front door again, knowing her chance for peace and quiet was over.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Harris. I’ll make you a cup of tea and we’ll think about where Mr Harris could be hiding,’ she said.

  ‘I’d like that, dear. Can you knock on Chelsea’s door and ask her to keep an eye out for him too?’

  Chelsea was the newest addition to the street and lived on the other side of Mrs Harris. She was a young, single woman with long blonde hair and a warm smile. Lydia put this down to the fact she didn’t have a husband or kids to contend with. She hadn’t spoken to her yet, but Don had helped her move some heavy furniture the week before and mentioned she was nice enough.