Captivate (Alien Cadets Book 2) Read online

  “No,” Nat said flatly. “If they’d had any experience turning a cadet, they wouldn’t have failed with me.” She shuddered and Sam put his arm around her, tucking her head against his chest.

  “She said she was human," Basher said. "But Rik usually stick to their story for at least a few days so I didn’t set much store by that."

  "What is her story?" Sam asked.

  “She claims that after the Spo took her, her mentor sold her to a Merith collector, Faal of Merith II. She says she was in his zoo for three years and just escaped. The zoo part may be true. Faal has accused her of stealing an animal from his zoo, but he also claimed she was Rik.”

  “Hm." Sam said. “I know very little about Faal.”

  “He’s been remarkably friendly to me. Today he was upset that I refused to release her, but he was still polite about it. Even before,” Basher tried to remember the exact words of their first conversation. “He was very open about being on Selta to catch this thief. Surely if he knew she was human he wouldn’t have told me anything about it?”

  “Not necessarily,” Sam said. “The Merith have a history of slavery and servitude... he may not think it matters that much if she was human.”

  “Well, if she is, he took good care not to tell me.”

  “He probably knows we would be much less likely to let him prosecute a human. Perhaps he’s just trying to cut through the red tape.”

  Basher frowned. "Well, I’ll administer the blood test, then we should know for sure. It's still developmental, but the Spo have given us the go-ahead to try it out on all the fakes we catch."

  "You're kidding! There’s a blood test? But, of course, the Spo would keep it a secret." Sam rolled his eyes. "So why are you all conflicted about this? Just test her."

  "The blood test is unproven on humans," Basher explained. "The drug cocktail, as far I understand, indicates if someone’s carried nanotechnology in their blood.” He grimaced. “If you’re a Rik, the residue in your blood will neutralize the drugs."

  Nat frowned. "So...if you’re not a Rik - what does the drug do?"

  "I'm not entirely sure. It hasn't happened yet and I'm no biologist," Basher said. "They tell us a true human would get ‘mild blood poisoning.’"

  “What Spo idiot designed it that way? Couldn’t they have done it backwards so only the Rik got sick?” Sam asked.

  “Beats me," Basher sighed. "It is kind of a witch-hunt, isn't it? Only the innocent suffer."

  Shara looked a little confused.

  "A witch-hunt – you know, in medieval Europe they'd throw a woman into a lake, tied up, and if she sank she was innocent. Much good it did her."

  "So you've got to throw her in the lake?" Nat said.

  "Essentially yes. Mild blood poisoning… maybe it won’t last long.”

  I don't think blood poisoning CAN be mild, Akemi said.

  Nat repeated this, and Basher frowned. “I’m afraid of that. I’m planning to give her the injection this afternoon. If she reacts, it should take hold sometime early tomorrow morning. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  8-12 hours, Akemi confirmed.

  Basher gestured to Sam’s sunglasses. “Do you have any more of these? They seem really handy."

  Tell him yes! Akemi shouted at Sam and Nat.

  She loved them both, and Shara was fun, but Akemi was dying for another pair of eyes and somebody else to talk to.

  He can have the extra ones that Senator Fontley didn't want.

  Nat smiled. "We have an extra pair in our suite. I should probably explain how they work.”

  They went back towards the stairs, only stopping to admire the lemur and stroke its fur before heading back to their rooms. The lemur made a sad mewling sound when they left and Basher forced himself not to look back at the tiny animal.

  CHAPTER 14

  Claire wiped her eyes but tears still leaked down her face and her nose was running. She looked at her blurry reflection in the large mirror and wondered if she could have handled that differently somehow. Was there anyway she could have made that man believe her? Probably not. Claire wiped her red nose on her shirt.

  It had been stupid to expect him to reassure her when he thought she was an alien. She didn’t even know why she’d reached out to him before he shut the door, she just felt an overwhelming need to touch him, to anchor herself to this reality.

  Claire took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped her eyes again, but felt more tears coming. It had all happened so fast - being robbed, seeing Faal, and then being arrested. The small amount of security she’d felt the last few weeks was completely destroyed.

  Claire looked warily around the small cell. The aliens (fakes, Rik, whatever they were called) sat side by side between the tightly packed bunk beds, knee to knee. They didn't move or open their eyes and it was creepy. Hadn’t they heard her come in? Was this some kind of séance?

  There were four sets of bunk beds, two against each wall, and the only other furniture was a Spo toilet in the back corner.

  Claire sat tentatively on the nearest bed, trying to decide what to do when the aliens finally talked to her. They might assume she was one of them... but then would they be angry with her, when they realized she was human?

  The five of them looked innocuous, except for being a little too good-looking. There were three women in the group, and two of them had to be twins. They were Chinese girls, mid-twenties maybe, and the only discernible difference was the length of their hair. One had long silky hair down her back and the other had it chopped off at her jaw line.

  A beautiful middle-aged woman sat next to them. She was very plump, with blond hair braided in a crown around her head.

  Two guys sat on the end: a lanky surfer-type, and a stocky black guy.

  As she watched, the tall, surfer guy slowly lifted his head, peeked one eye open to check on the others, and then unashamedly winked at her.

  Claire stared at him blankly, and he smiled at her. Then he drew an old-fashioned handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose vigorously.

  After a few more minutes, during which the handkerchief got put away and several yawns were stifled, the blonde woman suddenly slapped her knees and in an operatic voice sang, “That is the end, I’m done. Do-o-one.”

  Claire instinctively thought of the phrase her dad said about opera, “It’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings.”

  The lady rubbed her eyes and pushed herself to her feet. She had on a flowing black dress with spaghetti straps.

  “Hello, newcomer,” she said in a melodic voice. “Welcome to the Artists’ Enclave.”

  Claire blinked.

  “No, no. We agreed to call it the Progressive Performance Palace, remember?” said one of the twins.

  “I,” she said with emphasis, “agreed to no such thing.”

  The surfer guy rolled his eyes. “Do let us have that whole argument again,” he said sarcastically. He had a British accent. “Or we could find out who this is.”

  They turned to her and waited.

  “Um. My name is Claire.”

  “Claire. Yes, hmm. Claaaire,” the opera woman drew the name out long, with vibrato. “A bit limited, isn’t it? But I don’t recognize you. Were you one of the specialty transfers?”

  “I don’t have a specialty.” Claire knew this was a good opening to explain that she was not Rik, but she lost her nerve. “How about you?”

  The opera lady curtsied. Actually curtsied, with raised skirt and crossed ankles. “I’m a singer. You may remember me, I was the guest performer at the Director’s last gala. I’ve chosen the name Diva.”

  Claire couldn’t help but smile. She wondered if the woman was aware that 'diva' was often used to describe someone full of themselves, or if she just thought it meant 'star.’

  The black guy nodded to her, a short jerk of his thick neck, “I go by Athlete, for now. I haven’t picked a name.”

  The tall guy rubbed his five-o’clock shadow and yawned again. “My name is Sage.”

&n
bsp; The long-haired twin came forward to look at Claire. “We’re just called Young Twin and Old Twin. I’m not very creative.”

  Claire shook her head, starting to feel like she was in a surreal sort of circus. “Which one are you?”

  “I’m Young Twin, of course. Old Twin is old enough to be my grandmother.” The girl tilted her head, her shiny hair spilling over her shoulder. She peered into Claire’s eyes. “You certainly got a pretty human. I love her eyes.”

  Claire stared at Young Twin’s eyes as well, black and friendly, and realized how easy it would be to pretend these people were human. They were strange, and she was nervous of them, but they were also utterly human. There was nothing in their appearance to help her maintain her distance. And she missed people so badly.

  “I’ve definitely fallen through the looking glass,” Claire said faintly.

  Sage waved his hand. “I’m in charge of literary illusions. Please elaborate on this looking glass.” His scholarly, British accent didn’t quite match his appearance.

  “Hang on, check out her face,” said the black guy. He’d walked to a bunk on her right, but now stepped closer, pointing to the tattoo on her cheek.

  Claire leaned away from him. This was it, they would realize she was human, and how would they react? They seemed very calm, and surprisingly friendly, but she had no idea what they might do.

  Young Twin came close again, and reached out to touch the tattoo.

  Claire forced herself to hold still while the girl stroked the tattoo with her finger tips.

  “It’s an excellent copy,” Young Twin said. “The artistry is almost perfectly Spo, and the skin feels unchanged, as the Crosspoint would perform it. It’s excellent, really, except for being all wrong.” She pulled her hand back and Claire closed her eyes for a second, savoring the first human contact she’d had in years. She knew she shouldn’t react that way to an alien, but human skin felt so amazing...

  “Didn’t you know that you need the wrist tattoo to get past the Spo?” Sage asked her. “Yours looks like the cadet mark, and was bound to get you arrested.”

  They all held out their left hand, palm up, to show her the tattoo on their wrists.

  “I did the best I could with ours,” Old Twin said, “but I only had cheap pigment and a low-res image to work with. Clearly it didn’t get us far.” She gestured to the cramped cell. “I wish I could get to whoever made yours. It’s first rate. You could be human.”

  “I am human,” Claire said slowly.

  “Oh, that’s very good," Sage said. "How do you get that moist look in your eye?” He turned to the twins. “I AM human. I am HUMAN.”

  Claire could practically see his eyes bulge as he tried to make them wet. Her feeling of having stepped out of reality increased.

  “No good,” said Young Twin. “That’s rubbish.”

  “You are all idiots,” said Old Twin. “Clearly she’s telling the truth.”

  They froze. Reality returned.

  Claire raised her hands defensively. “That’s why I told you right away. I'm not trying to trick you or spy on you. But soon someone will figure out that I’m human and let me go. So... this is just temporary.”

  They were still looking at her, rather fascinated. They didn’t radiate menace, or violence, or even ill-will, but it was distinctly uncomfortable.

  Old Twin snapped her fingers finally. “Yes, she's only the second wild human we’ve met out here, but let's not start drooling. It doesn’t make any difference to us that she’s human.”

  “Um. It makes a little difference,” Sage said.

  “If she’s a problem we’ll smother her in her sleep,” Old Twin said. “Simple.”

  There seemed to be a lot of eye gaze communication going on all the sudden. Sage and Old Twin exchanged looks (perhaps they were the leaders?) and then seemed to meet the others’ eyes in some sort of sequence.

  Claire tensed, waiting for their reaction.

  Whatever was being said, it passed off without being verbalized, and movement resumed as the aliens relaxed. Diva lay back fluidly in her bed, Athlete began a set of push ups, and Sage went to the toilet in the corner. He grabbed a square of toilet paper and blew his nose again. The twins separated, one to a top bunk, the other to the bottom bunk.

  “Um. Wait,” Claire said. “You’re not really going to smother me in my sleep, are you? That wouldn’t do you any good. I don’t intend you any harm.”

  “Maybe we get a laugh out of killing,” Old Twin said flatly.

  “But –” Claire stopped. Maybe they DID get a kick out of killing. Here they were in human bodies that they didn’t even pretend were their own. They were all murderers, no matter how innocent they seemed.

  Claire felt herself shrink in again. The claustrophobic fear of an enclosed space and unfriendly aliens had been her companion for a long time. How stupid to think she’d escaped it, even for a minute.

  “Old Twin is lying,” Sage said, without heat. He threw his toilet paper in the toilet. “We don’t enjoy killing. At least, not that I know of. We haven’t killed anyone. Old Twin just prefers to pretend to be the monster everyone thinks she is.”

  “I just don’t kid myself,” Old Twin said from her bunk, opening her eyes. “We are monsters, and we are capable of killing her.”

  “We won’t though,” Sage said to Claire. “We don’t believe in killing humans.”

  Claire choked. “You don’t believe in killing humans? You - you're in a human right now.”

  Sage nodded. “Fair enough - but we didn’t do that killing. Perhaps I should qualify: we don’t believe in killing humans unless we have to.”

  Sage smiled and went to his upper bunk. He pulled a small notebook out from under his mattress and began writing in it with a pencil.

  Claire looked from one to the other. It had been silly of her to ask if they would smother her in her sleep. She couldn’t trust their answer either way.

  Claire took a deep breath. Surely she wouldn’t be in here very long. Wouldn’t the cop want to interrogate her, if he thought she was Rik?

  In the meantime, her ribs ached and she needed to pee, but she did not want to use the open toilet in the corner. Too vulnerable, and just... humiliating. She sighed and shifted, it was going to be a long, uncomfortable wait.

  The aliens were quiet for another hour or so, and Claire longed to lie down and sleep, but dared not. Her ribs throbbed from the kick she'd taken earlier, and she had nothing to take her mind off it except her companions.

  Athlete had finished a set of push ups and gone on to do several sets of lunges, sit-ups, and side presses. His rhythmic motion drew Claire’s eyes, though she felt a little awkward watching him. She would have thought that knowing these people were aliens would make them feel alien, but she found herself enjoying the humanness of their presence, despite her distrust of them.

  Sage was engaged with his notebook, occasionally smiling to himself.

  Old Twin lay with her back to them all, and Young Twin fidgeted around on her bunk, sometimes watching Athlete, sometimes watching Claire. “Is something wrong with you?” she said to Claire suddenly, startling her. “You look sick.”

  “No...”

  “She probably has to urinate,” Old Twin said, without rolling over. “I would, if I was her. And obviously she’s scared to go with us all here.”

  “Oh, of course, we can accommodate you,” Diva said graciously. “Everyone look away from the human while she relieves herself.”

  Claire felt herself blush and felt stupid. But she did need to go, and if it came to being vulnerable, feeling like you were going to wet yourself if you moved might be worse.

  She went to the corner, glancing self-consciously over her shoulder. They were all looking away, towards the one-way glass that – the one-way glass! What if there were Spo guards out there now?

  Feeling very much like a prisoner, Claire jerked her clothes down and got her business done quickly.

  That was a relief.

&n
bsp; “They don’t give you a private bathroom, huh?” Claire said, as she went back to the empty bed.

  Sage laughed. “We’re lucky they give us light and heat, let alone a separate loo.”

  “A loo?” Claire repeated. “Are you from Britain? I mean, not you, but…”

  “I’m from Australia, as are Young Twin and Old Twin and Diva. I believe these hosts emigrated there from the UK before the Hadron explosion. Athlete is from Chicago.”

  “But you’re not... really from there. Unless – is that person, still alive in there?” It was a horrid idea, but she had no idea how their form of body stealing worked.

  Sage was quiet, which looked unlike him. “No, they’re completely gone,” he said finally. “But I don’t think I should talk about it with you. You’ll either come to hate us more, or you’ll get morbidly interested in the process. Neither is healthy, but both seem to be normal human reactions.”

  “That guy who brought me in, he’s one of the ones who hates you?” Claire asked.

  “Yes. His name is Basher. I don’t blame him for the reaction, but it’s not healthy for him. And it’s not exactly a picnic for us, either. You don’t seem to have developed that hatred however, and I can’t imagine why.”

  “I guess I haven’t had time,” Claire said. “I just found out about what you can do recently. I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.”

  “How is that possible? Everyone in the galaxy, beyond the borders of your closed world, knows that most of the “humans” they encounter are Rik. I’m surprised you weren’t arrested long ago.”

  “I haven’t been out and around, exactly.”

  “We don’t want to know,” Old Twin interrupted from her bunk. “We are not your friends, and you are not ours. The less said, the better.”

  “That was rude,” Sage said.

  She turned and gave him a significant glare. “She has no reason to trust us, and every reason to distrust us. As she should, yes?”

  Sage looked troubled, and Claire almost felt sorry for him. But he nodded, without looking Claire in the eye, and turned his back to her.