by Neil Clarke
“He never told me.”
“He could not. He was forbidden. But,” it was studying her face, “perhaps he ought to have trusted you? You are . . . married. It is the sort of relationship where confidences are exchanged, according to my understanding.” Donna nodded. She felt furious, miserable. “We have a similar pair-bonding—my species, I mean—where intimacy is encouraged.”
Donna dashed a tear from her eye. It felt ridiculous, crying about such a small thing, when she had been ready to leave Jared anyway. “Are you . . . pair-bonded?” she asked.
Glreerak nodded. “I am.”
“But the other night . . .”
It shrugged. “I am not in my own body. And I have been instructed by my government to find out as much as I can about human ways and lives. My mate knows sex is a part of that.”
Donna looked sidelong at it; met its eyes that were not her husband’s eyes. Jared wasn’t unattractive. She’d been very eager for his attentions when they began dating, set up by a mutual friend. Then, his reticence had seemed manly, his steady, government job a sign of maturity.
“So, does that mean you want to . . .”
“Definitely,” it replied. “I am supposed to learn all I can about you, after all.”
“But for now,” it said, once it had her writhing, three fingers inside her, “let’s just keep this, ah, educational session between us?”
“Of course,” she gasped.
Jared’s eyes healed up enough that he agreed to go to a party at a friend’s house. It was a nice time, for a bit, at least. Donna was with her girlfriends in the grass, giggling over a joint and drinking Mang-o-Ritas when her husband broke off from the pack of men standing around the grill to take her aside. He was grumpy after two scotch and sodas, and wanted to go home.
It was just so goddamn typical. She felt cute in her nice dress, the weather was finally good after several late spring snows, and she hadn’t seen Vicky or Marissa in a while. Of course he would be a pill.
“Just a bit longer,” she said, feeling like a child pleading with her parents to be allowed to stay in the pool.
“I didn’t want to come anyway,” he snapped. “We’ve stayed long enough.”
“But . . .”
“Donna, I have to work tomorrow.” She felt her expression sour at his condescending words in that exasperated tone. Work! Indeed he did, at his secret job, living his secret life. Well, she had to work, too, at her decidedly not-clandestine dentist’s office, her back aching as she picked things out of people’s teeth.
“Please?” she asked.
He shook his head, but then paused; looked back at her. “Well . . . all right,” he said, with a slow smile that was not Jared’s smile. “We haven’t been out in so long. You go spend time with your friends. I’ll get another drink.”
It was Glreerak speaking. She was sure of it. The alien was talking to her, here, in front of all these people. It was actually kind of a turn-on, the secret. Maybe she did want to go home . . .
“We can’t stay too late,” it cautioned her, waggling its finger. “But a bit longer. You’re having a nice time. Later, you can thank me,” it said, and winked.
They stayed until the sun set. Donna couldn’t remember the last time she felt so happy, alternating between chatting with her friends and sneaking kisses with Glreerak. When she climbed into the passenger’s side, she favored Jared—she was pretty sure he was Jared again—with a smile. He didn’t see it, however, sitting there with the key in the ignition.
“It got so late,” he said, sounding confused. “How did it get so late? I was ready to go hours ago.”
Donna froze. Of course, Jared didn’t recall when the alien took over. It had seemed so harmless in bed. But in public, among friends . . .
Then she recalled his tone, earlier, when he’d insisted they leave. Recalled that he had kept secrets from her—secrets bigger than how a pleasant afternoon had been passed.
“You had another drink,” she said as casually as she could, buckling her seatbelt as cover. “Maybe you got a little drunker than you realized. Sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I feel totally sober,” he said. “Huh.” He waited for another moment, then turned the key. “Better keep it to two next time, I suppose.”
Donna said nothing. Eventually, her heart slowed down.
Before going into the induced sleep that allowed its mind to live within Jared’s, Glreerak dwelt beneath the waves, in a vast city of coral skyscrapers grown and maintained by bioarchitects to harvest and emit the faint light of the planet’s sun. Millions lived in that phosphorescently illuminated gloaming, lived and worked and loved and died in ways similar and different to humans in their cities on Earth.
Glreerak lived with its mate in a flat high above the ocean floor. It was comfortable—luxurious even, with a good view of the surrounding towers and parks and even the farmland beyond the city limits. They had been assigned such a wonderful home because while Glreerak’s mate was one of the scientists working on the project to make contact with Earth, Glreerak held a much higher-status job: sanitation.
As with all civilizations, waste removal was an issue. Burying garbage beneath the ocean bed poisoned the food supply; allowing it to drift away created problems for other cities. So, there was only one place it could go.
While all of Glreerak’s people were telepathic, only the most powerful communicators were able to pass the rigorous tests to become sanitation workers. Those who did were trained to develop their mental aptitude from a young age, until they were able to throw their minds into the bodies of simpler creatures, such as the mammal-like bipeds that lived on land. Teams of sanitation workers could combine their efforts to mobilize whole packs of them to haul waste out of the sea and inland, away from rivers and other tributaries, to minimize seepage back into the water. Glreerak was particularly talented; in fact, it could control these creatures for miles, and had seen more of its planet’s land masses than any other, such as the astonishing—
“Wait,” said Donna.
“What’s that?” said Glreerak.
It had been an intense evening. Donna had been overwhelmed by the menu at Linger, a trendy eatery with a spectacular view of Denver that Jared had never been willing to brave due to its world cuisine-inspired menu. Indeed, Jared would have hated it—would hate it tomorrow, given how spicy everything had been. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t notice anything even as fundamental as altered digestion. He’d been withdrawn and preoccupied of late, even for him, and had become nervous as well, startling at loud noises, rubbing his eyes.
To be fair, Linger’s menu had been a little weird for Donna, too, but she’d done all right with red wine, an order of sweet potato waffle fries, and the kofta, which turned out to essentially be meatballs dressed up for a night out.
Glreerak had liked everything, and the drinks along with the view of the city skyline had made it a bit homesick for its watery world.
“You can control other creatures with your mind?”
Glreerak didn’t answer; it just sipped on its cocktail, some weird thing called “Streets of Puebla” that Donna hadn’t liked at all.
“Well,” it said after swallowing, “yes. My telepathic prowess is why they chose me.”
Whatever she’d eaten for dinner felt like a cold and leaden lump inside her.
“So you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you’d be able to control . . . us.”
“No!” Glreerak pursed its lips. “We wondered—hypothesized, as my mate would say. But we didn’t know. I mean, it was a week before I felt comfortable enough to try, just to see. And it was you who inspired me, Donna. Your body was so soft—you seemed so receptive to pleasure. I had to see you! The shape of you, all of you. The way you responded to him, I couldn’t let my time on Earth go by without taking advantage of the endless possibilities you suggested to me . . .”
Was it wooing her with sweet talk to distract her from the idea of a ma
ss invasion? Were Glreerak’s people testing the waters, so to speak, to turn humanity into their next generation of garbage-hauling slaves?
“You know, Donna,” it said, reaching its hand across the table to take hers, “when your husband takes his turn living in my head, we will be revealing our planet’s secrets to your species.”
More than thoughts of their lovemaking, this distracted Donna from her worries of a future invasion. “What?”
“Eventually he will return with me. I am to spend a year with him, then he will spend a year with me.” Glreerak looked upset. “I know he has been concerned about how to tell you—how to explain his absence. I thought you should know, though.”
“He agreed to all this without . . .” Donna shook her head. She was so unimportant to him. What a fool she had been!
“Are you upset about the idea of losing him for so long?”
Donna looked up from her wine, saw the gleam of the ocular implants as it tilted its head at her like a quizzical puppy. She was upset—but she was upset about losing Glreerak; jealous that Jared, who had all the sense of wonder of a sack of potatoes, would get to live with it on its planet. Would get to see how it made love to its mate.
She laughed. It was the only thing she could to, really. “Well, maybe he’ll come back with a few new tricks to try on me after watching you with your mate.”
“Perhaps. At home, I would be the one to be fertilized.”
Donna blinked at it. “You’re a woman?”
“No, you’re a woman. I’m barely female! It’s rather a bit more complicated, at home. If we were interested in reproducing, my mate would fertilize me. Once the egg developed to its solid jelly form, I would pass it back to be incubated in my partner’s pouch. Eventually we would give it over to the city, where it would be implanted into a host along with the rest of the eggs around its stage. Once fully mature, it would hatch, and eat its way out of—well,” it trailed off, seeing her face. “The point is, when we fuck for pleasure, it’s a bit different.”
“Sounds like it will definitely broaden his mind.” Donna smiled. “Glreerak . . .”
“Yes?”
“Even if we only have a year, we have a year. Together. Let’s make it a fun one.”
“It has been already!”
“Sure, the past few weeks have been great, but still—you didn’t come all the way to Earth just to go to work under DIA every day and live in Aurora.”
“Well, a month from now, Jared’s going on a tour of world heritage sites . . .” Glreerak paused. “Don’t be upset . . . you were to come on that one. Mr. Smoot has been arranging it with your job. It was to be a surprise. That’s why I didn’t tell you, either. You know I would have, don’t you, Donna?”
“Well then let’s at least go away for a weekend. To the mountains, maybe. Together. Just the two of us, I mean. When we go abroad, I’m sure we’ll have all kinds of handlers and such. If you—if Jared could get a half-day some Friday . . .”
Glreerak nodded, smiling in that way Jared never smiled at her. “Sounds delightful,” it agreed. “I’ll ask for the . . .” its eyes went a bit dim as they did when it was searching through Jared’s mind for the correct turn of phrase, “time off.”
“Good.” She reached for the small menu beside her elbow. “But first, how about dessert?”
She decided on Steamboat Springs. It was inexpensive now that the snowpack was mostly gone, she knew no one who lived in the area, and there was a legendary hot spring up there, Strawberry Park, that was supposed to be gorgeous. Plus, the drive up would show Glreerak the mountains, where the aspens were still the pale gold-green of springtime against the dark pines.
It was exhilarating. The whole drive, Donna felt like she was going on a dirty weekend, even though it was her husband was in the passenger’s seat. Well, sort of.
Glreerak was pleased with everything—pointed out gorgeous vistas, gasped as they crested various passes. Jared would only have remarked on the traffic; worried whether they should have made dinner reservations.
Saturday, they took a picnic lunch up to the springs, sandwiches and chips and a can of the kale-flavored soda that Donna had only ever seen Glreerak buy. By late in the afternoon, they’d had enough of dipping in the various pools, heating up and cooling down by turns. But that was fine, they had urgent business in the hotel room.
Donna’s googling had told her Café Diva was a hot spot even in the warmer weather, but when they walked in the door, she saw something she didn’t like one bit. Vicky and her husband Mark were there, and before
Donna could suggest ought to go elsewhere to avoid being spotted, they were.
“Donna!” cried Vicky. “I didn’t know you and Jared would be here this weekend. You sly dogs, are you on a lovers’ getaway?”
“Haha,” said Donna, just like that—not a laugh, but a statement. “Yeah, we are, you caught us.”
“We are, too! Come on, join us for dinner! It’ll be fun, you can go back to your place after.” She winked outrageously at Donna. “We’ve only just ordered starters.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to . . .”
“To what? Have fun? Come on, you won’t be bothering us.”
Donna looked to Glreerak. It shrugged.
They actually had a really nice dinner. Glreerak did well with Vicky and Mark, even if sometimes it had to think, scanning through Jared’s brain, before responding. Donna ordered a second bottle of wine to keep them from noticing too much. It seemed to work.
Back at the hotel, Donna collapsed onto the bed.
“That was close,” she said. “I’m so glad we’re free of them. I could barely eat, I was so worried.”
Glreerak pushed her skirt up over her thighs. “Your species’ constant need for nourishment isn’t unpleasant, but it’s a shame we have to leave the hotel to do it.”
“We can order room service tomorrow morning.”
“Good. No more distractions from what really matters.”
It was the longest amount of time they’d spent together without letting Jared surface. Donna felt bad—a little bit, at least—but she hadn’t wanted to argue with her husband about the drive, where to stay, what to do, where to eat. She’d wanted to enjoy some time with Glreerak without distractions, just for once.
When they cruised back into town that Sunday, after grabbing a late lunch in Denver, she felt a bit low to have to return to her marriage; her life. Even the idea of their upcoming around-the-world trip couldn’t cheer her. Glreerak had said they’d see the Library of Celsus—the Parthenon—the Pyramids—the Great Wall—the Tower of London—Machu Picchu . . . but she’d be seeing it all with Jared. She would know Gleerak was there, just beyond Jared’s eyes, but they wouldn’t be together. Not really.
They’d agreed on a cover story: A stomach virus had knocked Jared out all weekend. As Donna unpacked the last of their things, Glreerak changed into pajamas and got into bed.
“Wow, it must have really knocked me out,” remarked Jared, as Donna brought him a glass of watered-down Gatorade. “Well, I’m feeling better now.”
“I’m so glad,” said Donna. “You were really miserable. Probably best you don’t remember it.”
“Would you bring me my laptop? I ought to see if any work emails came in while I was so out of it . . .”
Yeah, maybe some new alien species made contact with the secret research facility where you work, she thought, but all she said was, “Sure.”
She took a long shower; took her time drying off. She’d brought her pajamas with her into the bathroom—it was silly, but she felt less comfortable changing in front of Jared of late. When she re-emerged, he was in bed, laptop open. He was staring intently at the screen.
“Hungry at all?” she asked, putting a little hopefulness into her voice, as if urging him.
He said nothing; didn’t look up at her.
“Well . . . let me know if you need anything,” she said. “I’m going to watch a little TV.”
“No,
” he said. “Wait.”
When he looked up at her, finally, his expression was not a friendly one. “More Gatorade?” she asked.
“I don’t want any goddamn Gatorade,” he said, throwing off the covers and advancing on her. Donna shrank against the wall. Jared was really upset; he didn’t usually swear . . .
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I was in Steamboat Springs this weekend,” he said. “Apparently I had a lovely dinner with Vicky and Mark in some restaurant up there. But how could that be, if my wife assures me I was sick in bed?”
Donna didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t anticipated this; hadn’t thought she would ever be caught. Oh, she’d been such a fool!
“Nothing to say?”
She shrugged; shook her head.
“How long have you known?”
“Known . . . about Glreerak?”
“Who?”
Donna felt faint. “Your . . . your experimental collaborative co-consciousness.”
Jared’s eyes went wide. He grabbed his phone; dialed quickly. “I need someone here, now. To bring me in,” he said. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” He hung up the phone.
“Bring you in?”
“You think I’m going to drive, knowing it could take me over at any moment?” he snarled, almost yanking out a dresser drawer in his haste to grab a shirt. “Oh god, what am I going to tell them? None of us knew it even had a name, much less that it could make a puppet of me without my consent of my knowledge! None of us . . . except you.”
“I can explain . . .”
“Oh, please do!” he said, struggling into a pair of sweatpants. “I’m eager to hear you explain going out of town for a weekend with it.” His eyes snapped back to hers. “You fucked it, didn’t you? You fucking fucked it!”
Donna wished Glreerak could intervene, but it had told her it was more difficult to take over Jared when he was emotionally agitated. She would just have to deal with this on her own. “Well . . .” she began.
