“Or you could give a voice command,” chirped the robot, rolling in behind me.
“What do you mean?”
“The equipment in your living quarters has been programed to obey your voice commands, in English.
“Really?” I faced the wall that had already solidified behind me. “Open,” I ordered and watched the hard material instantly shimmer and dissolve. “Wow.” I stepped back into the bedroom. “Wouldn’t it be easier to start with that?”
“I am required to provide you with all available options. The doors outside your rooms will not respond to commands in English.”
“Will they respond to this?”
I hurried to the wall that I remembered led to the corridor, too eager to get out of the room to worry about possibly being seen by someone on the other side, naked as I was.
Glancing up, I aligned myself a little better with the marker and stepped a bit closer, putting my fingers on the wall.
Nothing happened.
“Open,” I ordered.
Again, the wall remained unchanged.
“That entrance is not on the list of approved equipment,” the robot behind me announced.
“Of course it’s not.” I sighed, turning away. “Shower it is then.”
Chapter 7
THE BATHROOM HAD NO visible fixtures. The toilet and sink slid out from the floor and the wall, following my voice commands, and disappeared again when I told them to.
To take a shower, I followed the instructions given to me by the robot and ordered the jets of warm water with shampoo to stream from the ceiling to wash my hair, followed by the ones with liquid soap from the wall to wash my body. The voice command to rinse activated clean water to run from both.
Kind of like a car wash, I thought. The illusion grew even stronger when warm air blasted from the jets at the end, drying most of the water off my skin and hair. Freed from any trace of hairspray, my hair immediately sprang up into thick curls.
“I’m hungry, Gran,” I said, upon returning back to the bedroom where the robot was waiting for me. “And, do you know where I could get some clothes?”
I glanced around the room. The bed had been made, my wedding dress was gone, and a couple of flat, white cylinders whizzed along the floor, reminding me of the robot vacuums back home.
“Breakfast is served in your living area.” The robot rolled ahead of me to the wall opposite from the bathroom. “The closet can also be accessed from there.”
“My living area?” Only now did I spot another break in the line of light under the ceiling. Coming closer, I ordered the wall to open.
The new entrance led me to a room at least four times as large as the bedroom. One of the walls was smooth and completely bare. The other three had shelves with green potted plants and held some unknown-to-me wall-mounted devices and cabinets.
Opposite to the smooth wall stood a white couch, curved in the shape of a crescent, with a few stands arranged around it. Several bright throw cushions on the couch, along with the green of the plants, were the only splash of colour in this grey-and-white room. Still, it appeared someone had actually made an effort to decorate this place.
“How many ‘areas’ do I have here?”
“Two. One for sleeping and one for taking meals and socializing.”
“With whom?”
“With company. Whenever you’re allowed to have a visitor. This is the food compartment,” the robot informed me, rolling across the room to a medium-size cabinet on the wall. “Your breakfast will be here shortly.” It proceeded to roll to the bare wall. “This is your window. You can select any degree of opacity from the inside. However, it will always remain completely non-transparent to anyone outside.”
“Did you say ‘outside?’” I rushed to him, anxious to see beyond the grey, depressing walls. “How do I make it clear?”
“Slide your finger in a vertical line anywhere on the surface. Up will increase the opacity, down will make it more transparent.”
Following the instructions, I slid the tip of my finger down. The grey seemed to dissipate from the wall, leaving it as clear as a pane of glass.
“Wow!” I stepped back, taking in the dark, snowy landscape outside the room. Illuminated only by the yellowish light that seemed to come from the wall, the snowdrifts did not come all the way to the window, as if kept a short distance away by something invisible.
Beyond that the Antarctic winter reigned. The night sky was clear, with the stars twinkling high above the snow that had been blown into shapes, similar to ocean waves. The white crests glistened under the pale light from the sliver of the moon.
“It’s beautiful.” I inhaled, wishing I could feel the crisp outside air. Although, from what I remembered reading about winter in Antarctica, a deep inhale would have most likely burned my lungs with frost. Earth’s southern pole was considerably colder than the northern one.
“This must look gorgeous in sunlight,” I wondered out loud. “How long is it until sunrise here?”
“You will not stay at this facility in summer,” the robot assured me. “The entire staff will relocate to the North Pole before full sunrise, to minimize the exposure to sunlight.”
“Are Kealans that afraid of the sun? How bad is it for them?”
“Skin damage can be extensive and extremely painful, especially in cases of prolonged exposure. Even indirect sunlight can cause unpleasant reactions if no protective clothing is worn. Without the specially developed goggles, permanent blindness can result.”
“No wonder they don’t come out much.” I remembered the hurried way the Kealans had departed the church, even as the wedding ceremony had taken place fairly late in the evening.
“Your closet is in this wall,” the robot chirped, continuing his tour through the room. “It is accessible either from here or from the bedroom.”
“Do I also give it voice commands?” I stood in front of the rectangular panel, which seemed to be made from dark, tinted glass.
“You could. Or you could simply open it yourself, using your hands.”
“My hands, huh?” I touched the glass panel. It shimmered and lit up, like a computer screen coming to life.
“This is the display of what is inside,” Gran explained. “Slide the images aside, until you find what you like.”
I went through the slide show of mostly loose white dresses, all of a very similar cut. “Not much variety here,” I observed, choosing one at random.
“This style of clothing was deemed to be the most suitable for you.”
“Deemed by whom?” I asked when the panel slid to the side, revealing the folded dress pressed between two clear pieces of plastic. One of the pieces opened like an oven door, the dress falling out on it for me to take. “And how is it most suitable?”
I shook the garment out, eyeing its loose-fitting shape, with a plunging neckline and a wide belt made from the same soft material.
“It’s unrestrictive to movement and blood flow, and adjustable in size,” the robot explained as I slid the dress over my head.
The skirt fell down to my ankles. There were no sleeves, and the front seemed to be just two wide strips of material sewn together below my chest bone, wide enough to house a breast size a few cups larger than mine.
“That’s not what I’ve seen Kealan females wear,” I noted, thinking about their skin-tight bodysuits that seemed comfortable, despite fitting like a glove.
“The uniforms of the personnel have been found too restrictive in terms of access, with the danger of accidental overheating if the temperature control is not operated properly.”
The word ‘access’ jolted me with unease, highlighting to me once again the purpose of my being here. Even fully dressed, my body needed to be ‘accessible.’
“Do I get any underwear to go with it?” I asked quietly. Swiping through more pictures on the panel, I found a pair of underpants—wide, soft, and stretchy—but no bra.
“Some undergarments can severely impact your b
lood flow.”
“Why is there such a concern about my blood flow?” I asked, sharply.
“It is necessary to support a successful pregnancy.”
“I’ve been told a pregnancy is unlikely to happen.” I remained by the screen, but my attention was no longer on the images.
“At this stage,” Gran agreed evenly.
“How many stages are there? Where can I get any details on their plans for me?”
“You do not have a clearance to receive this information.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I mumbled, walking to the couch, my legs suddenly weak.
“Because you have been made aware of your clearance level before?” Gran supplied helpfully.
Ignoring him, I propped my elbows on my knees and rested my head in my hands, spearing my fingers through my hair. Obviously my Kealan citizenship came with no rights, and every moment spent in this place reinforced that to me.
Locked in these rooms, like a prisoner with no crime committed, I’d lost not only my freedom, but control over my body no longer seemed to belong to me either. The privacy I currently had was not guaranteed. And I had hardly any information on what was to come.
The little I had managed to find out painted a bleak future of a life closely resembling that of a lab animal—confinement, controlled environment, tests . . .
I forced my mind out of the gloomy thoughts that threatened to plunge me into misery.
This couldn’t possibly be all there was for me.
My head swam, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything for nearly twenty-four hours, now. “I need some coffee.”
“Breakfast.” Gran’s voice picked up as the robot rolled to the wall with the food compartment and took out a tray with dishes, using two thin chrome arms that extended from the sides of its cylinder-body.
Gran placed the tray on one of the stands in front of the couch. “Or would you prefer to eat at the table?” At his words, a large panel descended from the ceiling near the window, forming a table suspended by thin silver chains.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head.
The table slid back up and into the ceiling as I grabbed the cup, taking a big swig of the warm liquid inside.
“This is not coffee.” I stared at Gran. “It’s tea. Chamomile, I think. Weak and unsweetened.”
“Caffeine and sugar can be harmful during pregnancy—”
“What pregnancy?” I snapped, cutting the robotic voice off. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Many substances may interfere with the process of conception. Your diet will be strictly regulated to improve the chances for success at every step of the process, from conception, through implantation, pregnancy, and hopefully, consequent labour and delivery. Taking good care of your body will help the medical team preserve your reproductive functions for longer.”
Despite being mostly empty at this point, my stomach roiled. I set the teacup down on the tray, my appetite deserting me.
“How long am I to be kept here like breeding stock, Gran?” I asked, not expecting an answer but needing to voice the dread and anxiety that threatened to suffocate me from the inside. “Will I be slaughtered at the end, when I get too old to be useful? Will whatever offspring I manage to produce face the same fate?”
A shudder ran through my body. I’d always wanted children of my own, a family, but this was like a cruel and twisted parody of my dreams.
“There are no plans for termination of your life,” the robot informed me brightly.
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said blankly, rubbing my face with both hands.
Sitting on the couch, I absentmindedly turned the wedding band on my finger. My thoughts went to the man who put it there.
‘The choice is neither yours nor mine.’
Tairan’s words implied he was not a willing participant here either, although I couldn’t tell exactly to what degree, because of his contradictory behaviour. He seemed to be following instructions, even if unenthusiastically.
I recalled him telling me about life on Keala. There was definitely more excitement in his words and expression then. The slip of his tongue when he introduced himself as Commander came to my mind, too.
Back home, Tairan seemed to have had a rank, a job, a purpose. What made him give it all up? Wouldn’t a man who held a position of power be resentful when lowered to the level of breeding stock? Was that the reason behind the gruffness in his attitude?
“Gran.” I turned to face the robot that silently waited nearby. “What can you tell me about Tairan . . .” I strained my memory for the full name he’d given me. “Commander Tairan Saryal?”
“Your instructions are to eat all daily rations of food,” the robot replied impassively.
“Will you answer my question?”
“Not until you finish your breakfast.” He wouldn’t give up.
“Are you blackmailing me?” I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling annoyed at the piece of machinery that acted way too human for its own good.
“Negotiating.” The smiley face stared at me, innocently.
“Is that how you choose to use your artificial intelligence? To argue with me?”
The blue smile grew wider, as if he was turning up the charm.
“Just follow the instructions, Miss Isabella, and we will remain friends.”
“That sounds like a threat.” I released a frustrated breath, reaching for the whole-grain toast on the tray.
“I would never threaten you.”
“Liar.” I listlessly chewed on the bread.
“On the contrary, one of my main tasks is to look after your health and safety.”
“Fine. You win.” I took another bite off the dry toast and moved the plate with two poached eggs and a salad closer. “I’ll eat.”
There was no dressing on the salad and no seasoning on the eggs, not even salt. Still, as I started eating, I realized how hungry I actually was. Finishing the breakfast turned out to be an easy enough task.
“So.” I leaned back in the couch, pushing the tray with empty dishes aside. “Tell me about Tairan now.”
“Tairan Saryal is a former Commander of the City Defence Forces of Atal, the capital of Keala.”
“What exactly does ‘commander’ mean?”
“It’s the highest rank possible to achieve in the Forces.”
“Tairan is only thirty-two,” I pointed out.
“He started the Academy at the age of fourteen, two years younger than the average age of admission.”
“Why?”
“Tairan Saryal demonstrated exceptional aptitude and character during the entry exams, and was granted permission for an early admission.”
Gran’s round ‘face’ grew brighter, swallowing ‘the eyes’ and ‘the mouth,’ before turning into a screen. The picture of a young Kealan appeared on it, and I immediately recognized the violet-rimmed eyes as Tairan’s.
Upon a closer look, the boy’s stern expression also seemed familiar. His braids were considerably shorter back then, and they hung freely, the only rings were the ones on the ends.
“He graduated the Academy at the age of eighteen, as first in his class.” The picture changed to that of a portrait of a young man now, with Tairan’s eyes and a look of hard confidence on his face. “He became Keala’s youngest Commander of City Defence Forces at the age of twenty-six.”
The picture changed again, the screen showing Tairan as a grown man. He wore a black uniform, with both shoulders and one of the sleeves decorated with all sorts of insignia. “What are these for?’ I asked pointing at his sleeve on the screen.
“These are given every time someone distinguishes themselves during an ure attack. Some are also to mark advancement within the Forces. Each mark is accompanied by the honour ring that Kealans in the Forces display in their hair.”
“The braid rings?”
“Yes. Each is engraved with the date and the symbol of the event or accomplishment.”
The screen dulled. Tairan’s portr
ait disappeared, replaced by the unblinking smiley face again.
“Anything else?” I urged. Drawing my feet under me, I shifted closer to the robot. “This can’t be it.”
“This is the only information available for your level of clearance.”
“Really? That’s it?” I jumped out of my seat, my patience wearing thin from yet another denial for information. “What’s so harmful about me getting to know more about him? I married this guy!” I shoved the hand with my wedding band into the smiley face. “I had sex with him, for crying out loud. And I’m not allowed to know anything about his life?”
“None of this information is necessary for a successful copulation,” Gran stated brightly.
“I bet it was Ricread who fed you that line,” I muttered under my breath, pacing the room, with the robot pivoting back and forth to follow my movements.
After a while of pacing the perimeter, like an animal in a cage, I finally calmed down enough to get back on the couch.
“Fine.” I gestured Gran to roll closer. “Tell me about Keala then.”
I figured if I couldn’t learn more about the man, I could at least find out everything there was about the planet he came from and the people who now had full control over my future.
THE PICTURES OF KEALA taken from space showed a pitch-black planet, the light of its large star reflecting off the glossy, melted rock covering its surface.
Pictures of life underground, however, were much more vivid.
I still had a hard time imagining the giant monsters that dug the wide tunnels housing Kealan cities. In the pictures that Gran showed me, the tunnels looked like wide streets with arched ceilings over them.
Apparently, the vehicles in Keala moved along rails mounted in the ceiling, leaving the floor solely for pedestrian use. The two-story buildings, constructed along the tunnel walls, were just one room deep, as Gran explained to me, but could stretch a hundred metres or even longer.
I scrolled through the pictures on Gran’s screen, fascinated by the alien way of life, flowing in front of my eyes—Kealans walking along the streets of their towns, holding hands, carrying groceries. Sure, the design and architecture of the cities was foreign and unusual to me, but the atmosphere of the pictures was very similar to that of any other city on Earth—people simply living their lives.
Experiment Page 7
