Текст книги "The Alien's Handler"

Автор книги: Gemma Voss

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“Don’t worry. I’m a big girl. Hit me with the dirty details,” she says with a kind pat to Kiva’s hand.

“When a Kar’Kali male is without a suppressor chip, the Kali’Ka dances within him until it finds a mate that has caused his blood to jump. Every Kar’Kali male reaches sexual maturity at sixteen years of passing or so, but the Kali’Ka waits and waits until he has seen the most appropriate female. It could be on their first meeting, or on their fiftieth meeting, but when it happens the Kali’Ka spikes within them both immediately. The resulting change in hormone levels is what we refer to as the mating call. The blood becomes thick and red, and the seed becomes potent. The male exhibits physically through the erect penis, as we discussed, but this is not unique to a breeding mate. He will also exhibit the slight change in skin tone due to the blood, the secretion of an aphrodisiac from the tongue, and an overall sharpening of the senses.”

Ella’s flutters her hand over her mouth but says nothing. Perhaps I have shocked her.

“The more frightening aspect of this mating call is that the male becomes utterly out of control of his senses. He loses all reason and logic immediately and thinks of nothing but how to attain his female’s favor, complete the breeding process, and secure territory for her to gestate. He may enter a savage state in which he reverts entirely to animal instinct, but we don’t know much about this.” I explain this slowly and then add, “Do not be afraid for your safety. We are all safely chipped to prevent any such temporary insanity. Deviant Kar’Kali males are dangerous, but there are none allowed here on Earth.”

My colleagues and I await her response with bated breath. I wonder for a moment if she will request re-assignment, but I know humans are capable of similarly disgusting practices. Surely, the archaic mating practices are not so different from the human mating call. Especially considering some of the evidence I’ve seen.

“Ella-vi, now that you have heard this,” Mori urges, “What have you to say about human mating calls as compared to those of our ancestors?”

“No, humans do not have mating calls like that,” she says firmly, pressing her delightful pink lips into a flickering line. I believe she is trying not to laugh at us.

“How can this be?” I ask. “How is it this is true when we have seen clear evidence of a similar animalistic mating style, possibly even humans in the savage mating call state, fucking like wild animals?”

Her quivering lips show me she is amused. “It takes all kinds,” she says.

Maddening. It is a non-response by my approximation.

 “You are our liason. If you are to be forced upon us, we must at the very least be able to rely on you for basic information such as this,” I tell her. “We cannot work with such a vague reply.”

“What have you seen of human mating that has made you believe we fuck like animals? I mean, I’m not denying it… Hell, we even have a position called doggy style. Oh, and cowgirl.” Her face grows ponderous and I can only assume she searches her mind for more of these animalistic positions.

“We have studied the Alliance database for this information,” I state.

Mori leans forward, in disbelief. “The extent of their barbarism is truly maddening. They sexually imitate both canine and bovine creatures during the mating call? And you are certain their biology is a close match to our ancestors?”

Pakka nods grimly. “This female is the closest we have been to our evolutionary mother.”

“No ancestor of mine fucked a bovine calf,” Mori says.

Ella finally lets out the laughter I suspected her of hiding. Kiva has been fiddling around on his tap-pad while we spoke, and now lifts his head with a smile.

“Here,” he says, turning it around to show Ella. “This is one sample from the Alliance database that we used to craft our proposal. Can you confirm that this is an authentic record of human mating rituals?”

We all gather round the screen. I brace myself for the obscenity that surely awaits. The video player launches the clip of the bare-naked pair of humans, slamming against one another and screaming. The male is atop the female’s ass and he uses his arm to crush her face into the floor. He thrusts into her from behind, assaulting her with vigor. Kiva slides forward to pause the clip after quite enough slapping sounds have entered our eardrums.

Ella blinks silently for a moment.

“I hope you have not triggered a mating call in our colleague,” Pakka says gruffly to Kiva. “Irresponsible, thoughtless—”

The female begins shaking, and at first I fear we have triggered her into heat. Then a soft peal of laughter fills the room. The sound of it is quite lovely, I realize. Only for a moment though, because it soon becomes a cackle of hysteria. These humans are truly mad. How is that our brains are so biologically comparable?

“Oh my God,” she moans through her fits. “You guys downloaded porn from the government database—” She shivers all over and throws her head back. “– and made a science project out of it?”

With her head bent back, I cannot control my need to admire the delicate line of her exposed throat. Why is it that the sight fills me with a desire to take my tongue and slide it over that soft and vulnerable skin? The thought frightens me more than I would like to admit. Is it possible our hormone chips are not receiving proper updates from Kar’Kali? The lab has direct access to the Alliance transmission network, so I cannot imagine why that malfunction would occur.

“I believe the clip has caused a small bout of insanity,” Pakka says. “Ella-vi, do you require medical assistance?”

It’s becoming clearer with every moment I pass in Ella’s presence that I am the one who will soon be needing medical assistance.

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Chapter 4

Ella

I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, fighting to swallow my laughter. This is no way to act professionally, but then it’s not every day you watch a porn clip in a professional setting, is it?

“I’m alright,” I tell them, though they are hovering around me with wide eyes as though I might spontaneously combust. “Yes, that is technically an authentic record of human sex.”

Kiva has begun recording what I am saying on his little device. “What do you mean, technically?”

“Well, here on Earth, a lot of the people who are recorded having sex on camera like that are paid to do it. Sometimes they are exaggerating a little, to make things more … appealing for the people that watch it. I don’t think you guys want to rely on that as the most accurate idea of two people that are really together. Sometimes they give the men a pill to help them stay erect for longer.”

Having explained this, I wonder how the hell I ended up in this job. A couple weeks ago I was trying to explain to a giant reptile that grocery stores do not “steal” eggs from chickens that still have baby chicks inside them. She was personally offended by the idea that anyone would steal eggs from an innocent creature. Now, I’m explaining porn to a gang of hunky adult virgin men, one of whom I’ve already caught staring at my ass.

That reminds me. I have a bone to pick with Jen about how she never warned me that my new alien wards would be this attractive.

All five of the Kar’Kali scientists are over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and fit like Olympians. Their skin color comes in varying shades of a cool, silvery gray that shimmers iridescent in certain lighting. Kila, Mori, and Pakka all have thick black hair that shines and hangs pin straight. Vala has a striking head of silvery white that he keeps in a leather corded man-bun. Kiva has teal blue curls that flop around his boyish face, with dark blue freckles to match.

They are shockingly human-like, which shouldn’t surprise me considering their research revolves around the hope that human biology is a comparable match to their evolutionary ancestors. It’s funny how I’ve become more accustomed to reptiles, gelatinous blobs, pig-faces, and Skeletor look-alikes. These handsome figures, mirror images of humanity, seem to unsettle me more than the overtly ‘other’ species. I don’t spend much time thinking about the science that surrounds me at the facility, but their presence makes me wonder what humans will look like thousands of years in the future now that the intergalactic political world has grabbed us up into their web.

And that Kila? The one who said I cause him a ‘physical response’ and then had the gall to say that they can’t get sexually aroused? He needs to tell that little fact to the eyeballs he has attached to my ass. Anyways, this Kila is the worst—or should I say the best? His face reminds me of a sad-boy French model from a perfume ad, all in grayscale. He has this searing black-eyed gaze that burns through me every time he looks my way. And I notice him looking… often.

“So then it is this pill that causes the male to lose all control and act like that?” Pakka asks.

“No,” I say with a sigh. “I’m not a scientist, obviously, and I’m sure there’s hormones and stuff behind it all, but human desires just aren’t that simple. It’s not a switch that you turn on and off. It’s complicated. But when humans see someone they like, and they get to know them, or maybe they don’t get to know them and they just get to be alone together… Well, if there’s mutual attraction between them then they get aroused and it just goes from there. There’s no magic mating call that tells you this person is the one and then from that moment you change and go crazy. People do go a little crazy in relationships, but it takes time to feel that way. We don’t have a Kali’Ka here to tell us who to fall for.”

“Wow,” says Kiva. “That sounds complicated indeed.”

“It sounds nonsensical,” comments Mori.

“Let’s take a break,” Pakka suggests. “We need to begin un-boxing these deliveries and see if we’ve got everything here.”

They all nod slowly, no doubt processing the scattered load of information I’ve given them. Pakka begins ordering them around, and I am left sitting beside Kila, who taps away on his slim computer screen that they call a ‘tap-pad’. He is adjusting what looks like a timetable with dates all along the top of the chart. When he hesitates to think for a moment, he catches me watching him.

“I… I… should apologize for suggesting you are feeble minded,” he says.

“Suggesting? I think you just said it,” I tease him.

He frowns and puts the screen to the side. “Don’t mind me,” he says. “I have been in an odd mood today.”

“A mood? I thought Kar’Kali don’t get moods.” I point at the back of my own head, referencing the chip he has in his own.

“A common misunderstanding of our culture is that we do not have emotions. That is not the case,” he tells me. I wait for a beat, thinking that he must have something more to say about that. But he doesn’t.

“Why did they call me Ella-vi?” I ask him.

“It’s what humans might call polite. Vi in the Archaic language means sister. Since that word is no longer in usage, it simply refers to a respected female.”

“But you don’t want to call me sister?” I probe further. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t notice. Is he quietly insulting me? It’s so hard to read him. He calls me stupid, but then apologizes sincerely. He stares at me like I’m naked, accuses me of shooting sex hormones his way, and then acts like the very thought of mating disturbs him. Now he’s telling me he doesn’t want to use his own culture’s polite honorifics with me?

His eyes trail over me. I feel pinned by his gaze. “No, I do not,” is all he says.

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Chapter 5

Kila

Pakka, I’d like to discuss a theory with you,” I say once we are back at the living quarters. It is just the two of us. Mori and Vala have gone to pick up meals from the cafeteria, and Kiva is wandering the complex floors making contact with all of our cohabitors and no doubt questioning them on various topics.

“Yes?” He hardly looks at me. All his attention is focused on crafting a new schedule based on Jen’s refusal to allow weekend access to the laboratory.

“Do you think that humans might have mating calls that they are not fully aware of? Perhaps pheromone secretions that their own scientific methods have not detected?”

“It is certainly plausible,” he says, pausing to look up from his tap-pad and consider it. “Their medical knowledge prior to Alliance intervention was flawed and incomplete. But what evidence has brought this theory to mind?”

“I was not feeling like myself today. I worry that I am having a reaction to environmental changes or some other stressor,” I confess.

Pakka turns to stare at me now. He has a painfully direct gaze and I know nothing will escape his notice in my facial expressions. “Some other stressor?”

There’s no getting around it. I’ll have to lay everything out for him.

“Ella,” I manage to blurt her name. “The human female who is to be our Handler. She has caused a strange response in me.”

“I have noted your temper the past few days has not been even, but I assumed the strenuous travel was the source of your irritability… But, a female? Hmmm, you must tell me exactly what your response was.” He sets his tap-pad down to listen.

“I… I… Pakka, you must promise to keep this between us for now,” I say, nervously.

He nods. “Certainly.”

“When I first looked upon her, I could not stop myself from looking. Her appearance appeals to me greatly, and I found myself paying close attention to her expressions and manner of speaking. When we spoke of Deviant mating today, I found myself wondering about whether she partakes in such practices – even imagining it.” I press my sweating palms against the front of my trousers.

It is as I expected. Pakka is horrified, but the first step to solving this problem will be discussing the darker implications of my body’s reactions.

“So, despite our current data and Ella’s own statement today, you believe she may be emitting pheromones?”

“We are biologically similar, are we not? It is possible. The only other explanation would be some sort of malfunction to our suppressor chips. And if this were the case, surely you would feel the effects of the malfunction as well.”

“Not necessarily,” he says. “The Kali’Ka is the force that drives our hormones without the suppressor. It picks and chooses how the hormone fluctuates.”

I tap the table between us and remain silent. This female, who I know nothing about, occupies my mind like an obsession. The intensity frightens me. Like other spikes of anger I’ve experienced over the passings, it is uncomfortable in its abruptness and its power over me. Neither of the potential explanations for the phenomenon are particularly comforting to me.

“Do not worry yourself just yet,” he tells me. “This is what we will do. You will do your best to avoid interaction with Ella. We will need a few days to prepare all our equipment. There are some pieces that will need to be assembled this week. Once they are ready, I should be able to run scans on both yourself and Ella. We will know whether your hormone levels are still suppressed, and we shall ask Ella to be our first test subject for baseline human female hormone levels. She will think nothing of it, I am sure.”

I nod along as I listen. It is a practical plan. This is why I have trusted Pakka with the shameful truth, after all. His clear head and his intelligence are the reason we are here.

“Very well,” I agree. “This is what we will do.”

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Chapter 6

Ella

Kila is avoiding me.

It doesn’t take long before its painfully obvious that the sight of me either disgusts or angers him. On Monday, I was confused by his mixed signals, but I didn’t think it was anything more than first day jitters. I don’t expect much when it comes to meeting new alien species for the first time by this point. I have come to find it pretty amusing how low an opinion they often have of human intelligence and culture. I figured that whatever weird reactions he had to me would blow over once he’d spent some time in the office.

But by Thursday, it is clear enough—he hates me. He hasn’t looked at me, spoken to me, or even acknowledged my existence. He’s been pulling this cold shoulder routine since the second he walked through the door on Tuesday morning.

My best guess is that he’s disgusted by me. Ever since our first conversation and surprise group porn-viewing session, the flood gates have opened when it comes to the crew asking me questions about human ‘mating calls’. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that we don’t have ‘mating calls’; they just go on calling it that. And now I’m expected to represent every human female on the face of the Earth.

Once Kiva moved past his initial shock, he began asking me every question under the sun.

Questions like: “How do the males court their chosen female once they’ve felt the mating call?” “How many partners does the typical human female take over the course of her lifetime?” “What male attributes does the female seek in an ideal partner?”

I’ve noticed that when I begin to try and answer these impossible, overly broad questions, Kila practically flings himself away from the area and disappears from earshot. I could have sworn he was eyeballing me on Monday because he liked the way I look. Maybe he’s heard just how experienced I am by the way I’ve answered the questions and decided I’m far too Deviant for his taste.

I’m not certain I need to worry about it, but if there’s anything I’ve learned from working as a Handler here, it’s that even the slightest of differences between human and alien cultures can cause a major misunderstanding. Unraveling it all and helping both sides to understand each other is the main point of my job here. Once I know what’s caused this, we’ll know how to avoid the same thing happening with any human subjects that come to provide data.

My first instinct is to speak with Pakka. He’s the leader and he is extremely focused on work, so I feel he is the least likely to take offense to my questioning. I sidle up to him after the lunch break has ended.

“Pakka,” I address him with a smile. “Can I speak with you for a second?”

“I can only assume this will take longer than an Earth second. But you may proceed, yes.” He does not even look up from his work. His face is an inch from the massive panel that will soon control the van-sized box they’ve constructed at the back of their lab. Apparently, they’re planning to put people in it and measure biological responses. The panel hangs to the side, while Pakka carefully connects hair-thin wires from the mechanical hub to corresponding buttons.

“It’s just that I’ve noticed Kila is rather cold towards me, and I’m hoping I haven’t done something wrong to upset him. It’s important that everyone on this team is comfortable with one another.”

“Kila? No, I have not noticed anything wrong. You are imagining it, Ella-vi. After our discussion on Monday, I think we have all come to realize that we will need your knowledge to complete this project. I value your presence here,” he says.

“Ah, well, that is nice to hear, but I don’t think I’m imagining it. Kila can hardly stand to look at me. Is it something I’ve said?”

He shakes his head vigorously, never ripping his eyes from the panel. “No, no, Ella. Everything is fine.”

It’s then that I realize– he knows exactly what I’m talking about and he’s gas-lighting me to hide it. Typical men. These Kar’Kali can pretend all they want that they have no personal connections, but I know bro-code in action when I see it.

“Okay,” I say innocently. “My mistake.”

Now I know I will have to get the information straight from the source. I decide it will be best to corner him, alone, and speak to him as softly and calmly as possible. Sometimes I feel less like a Handler to alien scientists and more like a wrangler of wild animals in this job. It’s best not to spook them. They’ll bite if they feel threatened. And oftentimes, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.

***

Kila

Everything is much worse than I originally feared. This week has been treacherous, and I was once left for dead in the desert of a mining planet far beyond enemy lines. My body and mind have truly betrayed me.

On Tuesday, Ella arrived wearing a fitted black dress that displayed her curves for all to see. It covered her skin, yes, but her shape was quite noticeable. It is not enough, of course, that she is physically appealing. It is becoming clear to me that she is perfect in all ways. Now that I notice this, I feel fury at remembering how I insinuated that she is as feeble-minded as other humans.

She is a kind female that thinks of other people always, even before herself. That day, she brought with her a box of donuts, which she described as a pleasing morning food that humans purchase for celebratory moments. She wished to celebrate our new lab and the beginning of our research, even though she and the human race will receive no benefits from our findings. Kiva exulted in the flavor of these sweet, colorful breads and showered her with gratitude. The attentions he gives her anger me, and at once I realized I was experiencing jealousy.

Jealousy, a most dangerous emotion, one that Kar’Kali have believed was exterminated from our culture. Here I am, losing my mind to it. Soon I will become no better than a Deviant. I will become like the villains of the stories we heard as children, striking down one of my own people for coveting my desired mate.

As soon as Ella realized that we labored to finish assembling all our equipment as quickly as possible, she began offering to bring sustenance and water to the lab so that we could focus solely on our tasks. She arrived at midday with a tray of sandwiches that she carried from the cafeteria, a pitcher of water, and cups for all of us.

On Wednesday, I was marginally relieved to see her in a large sweater and a pair of trousers. But that day it seemed she had caught on to my avoidance, and she attempted to speak with me multiple times to “get to know me” like she has with the others. We have learned that this is a human need– the need to immediately connect with others and learn their preferences and personal experiences. I was forced to tell her multiple times that I was busy, although I felt the ludicrous desire to tell her, in detail, about every moment from my first lesson to my last battle. It wounded me to see her hurt expression when she realized I was cutting her off.

It is now Thursday. Ella is wearing a top that seems to float around her like gauzy leaves on a kavana’a tree. I have never noticed what females put on their bodies before. …Before. Yes, my whole existence is now divided by Before and After. Before Ella, I was one person. Now, I am entirely another. I have been replaced by a male that cannot stop from noticing the way her legs curve, highlighted by the hugging of her leather boots that reach to her knee. I take a long look, because I know that I must spend the rest of the day averting my eyes.

We are close to completing the monitor pod, I remind myself. I must focus so that tomorrow we will be able to finally discover the reason for my suffering. I cannot help but wonder if the universe is issuing punishment for the cowardice of my past.

“Kila,” she says, turning to me before I can find something to occupy my hands. “Would you like to try this coffee? It’s something most humans drink every day. It has caffeine, which helps people wake up and get energy. Do you have anything like caffeine on Kar’Kal?”

I stare at the white cup in her hand to avoid her eyes. It is filled with brown liquid. The color is very like her hair, rich and dark.

“No,” I reply. “It sounds mind-altering, so I should avoid this.”

Then, I walk to our cabinets and start taking out my materials for today, before she has a chance to distract me again. Mind-altering indeed. What an excuse that is, when my mind has already altered itself without my permission. I don’t dare to look at her, for fear she is making a sad face that will fill me with guilt. I lay out the half-finished sample analyzer that I began constructing yesterday. Focus, focus, focus. I recall the teachings of my early training, as though I am only eight passings old. Emotions do not solve problems. They are a distraction. Emotions will not defeat the Azza.

Soon, the day is passing, and I have now completed two analyzers. Along with the three Mori has done, we have a complete set for each team member. The clock tells me it is time for the facility to close soon. Ella is bent over Kiva’s desk, where he is explaining to her how the analyzer works. She smiles at him when he offers to demonstrate by sampling her blood. She holds out her wrist and he grasps her arm. That now-familiar jealousy stirs. Is it possible Kiva is affected by her too? Is he hiding it from Pakka? Does he see the same things that I see when I look at her? And if this is so, how is it fair that he should enjoy her attentions while I deny myself?

I must leave for a moment to calm down. I head for the door without providing any excuse for my abrupt exit. The ‘break’ room is not far from the lab; I will go there to gather my thoughts.

A rapid click-clacking behind me sends a shiver up my spine. It is her, following me.

“Kila!” she calls as she rushes down the hallway. “Kila, can I talk to you?”

I halt and look back at her. The blouse she wears is fluttering as she jogs to catch up to me.

“Damn, you move fast,” she says once she is beside me, out of breath.

“What is it you need?” I say tightly.

“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot here, but I’d like to fix this. I can tell you are… angry with me about something. Can you tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can make it up to you?”

My stomach feels like it is clenching. Of course, I have made her feel as though I hate her by ignoring her. I am speechless, wondering just how I can explain myself without telling her the disturbing truth. Worst of all, she thinks that it is something she has done to have caused this. Ridiculous. Even if she is emitting pheromones that addle my brain, I am certain she is unaware of it.

“I… I…” I hesitate. All the while her eyes are wide, awaiting my response. Another being comes barreling down the corridor. It is a massive Sciva that could likely harm Ella with one errant swat of his arm. We are forced to squeeze away from him so that he may pass us by. Instinctively, I grasp her by the arm and tug her towards the wall with my back to the hairy beast, who at least has the decency to apologize profusely to us as he shuffles away. For that moment, Ella’s chest is pressed against mine. The brushing of her breasts against me is enough sensation to spark a fire beneath my skin.

When I step back, she takes a moment to collect herself. Perhaps she feels something as well. The thought is tantalizing. Immediately, I feel I must know if it is true.

“As I was saying,” she murmurs. “Something… clearly is bothering you about me and I think we should work it out. I mean, I worked with my Oofara team for five years, and since we have no idea how long you guys will be on this project, it really is important that everyone can be honest with one another—”

“Stop,” I demand, and she startles at my tone. “I cannot stand the discomfort of knowing you believe I have hatred towards you. You have done nothing wrong.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. Her cheeks are flushing. She feels it too, my mind whispers. Look at her, she is just as weakened as you.

“Your presence has a strange effect on me,” I manage to admit. “It has not gone away. I thought it was best to avoid you because of this, but I had no intention of making you feel that you have wronged me in some way. For that I apologize.”

Without thinking, I reach for her hand and hold it in my own. The warmth of it is calming, more effective than any of the meditation I attempted this week. While I hold tight to this small part of her and anxiously await her reaction to my confession, I realize the depth of trouble I am in. It is not simply a response, not simply a mistake. I am neck deep in this strange sickness with no escape in sight.

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