Unnatural Instinct: Abduction

24.

In the communal dining room, you try to be patient as you wait for him. What's he doing? What's he up to?

Finally, he enters, looking flushed and with a wildness to his eyes that fills you with concern.

You frown. 'Something wrong?'

He hesitates. 'No. Everything's fine.'

You watch as he pulls open the cupboard and removes two sachets. From there, he puts them into the 'replicator'—it looks very much like a large microwave—which somehow expands them into full meals at the press of a button. He stands hunched over the bench as he waits, stiff and silent and avoiding your eyes.

Finally, the food is ready and he brings your dishes over. You don't know what they are and you don't care. Suddenly, you don't feel so hungry. He hunches over his meal as he shovels some kind of green moss into his mouth.

'There's something wrong. Tell me,' you say. 'Are they still alive?'

He gulps down the moss, then takes a long drink of green liquid from his glass. Wiping his mouth, he peers at you, his eyebrows low over his eyes. 'Very much alive.'

You're about to demand a proper explanation when you see something curious. Tilting your head, you peer at him more closely. 'What's that on the side of your neck?'

Frowning at you, he touches himself.

'No, the other side,' you say. 'It looks like some kind of rash.' It's a surprise; it's the first blemish you've seen on his perfect skin.

He probes it gently with his fingers. His eyes widen, then narrow. A strange expression passes over his face, quickly vanishing behind a smile that you don't believe at all to be genuine. 'It's nothing,' he says. 'Probably just an allergy.'

You start on your meal, watching him. 'You were saying about your sample?'

'Ah ... yes. They've multiplied and their motility has increased. Whatever we're doing, it's working.' He looks down at his meal, still avoiding your eyes.

There's definitely something he's not telling you, but you change your mind and decide not to challenge him about it. You know him too well now. Prod him too hard and he'll withdraw.

He probes at his neck again.

He finishes his meal at a rapid pace before waiting anxiously for you to finish yours, tapping his foot against the floor. It seems even in his world it's rude to leave the table.

Finally, you're done and he stands. 'I'm sorry but I must leave you for a while. I need my quarters to myself to attend to my research. I will come to you when I'm finished.'

You raise your eyebrows. 'Of course. You've got to do what you've got to do.'

He nods, his eyes distant, and hurries out the door.

For several moments you sit there uncertainly, thinking. You're not going to let this rest. If he won't tell you what's going on, then you're just going to have to find out for yourself.

You feel nervous as you march down the corridor. Though you know you're being paranoid, you can't help but feel eyes on you. You're up to no good. What if they know? Every time a drone walks by your heart beats a little too fast.

You pass his door. It's shut. You pause briefly to listen but hear nothing.

You reach the little room holding the giant microscope. Looking left and right, you step inside. Taking a breath, you sit in the seat. You touch the lens, then pull away, fearful you're going to break something.

You study it briefly. There's no way you're going to be able to make this work. You study the dials along the side, trying to remember what he did—but it's impossible.

Shaking your head, you dive straight in and look into the lens. You pull back with a start. You can't believe your luck. He's left it on! Pressing your eye back to the lens, you peer at the slides. There are three of them now. Two of them you've already seen. The third must be the sample he's recently taken.

You purse your lips. It doesn't seem all that different. You do notice there's more sperm than before, all of them powered along by their whirling tails. As you look more closely at all three slides, you finally see something. It's so subtle you almost don't notice it. Not only are there more sperm but they seem to have changed form. They're heads are no longer sloped but rounded, looking more like the familiar tadpoles of human sperm.

Why's that a big deal? Is that what he's so worried about? Pulling away from the microscope, you sit back in your seat, more confused than ever.

You look once more at the slides but can glean no new understanding. With a sigh, you leave the room. As you pass his door again, you stop, rocking on your heels. What's he doing in there? You desperately want to go inside, but the last thing you want to do is disturb him.

Biting your lip, you leave for your room.

As you step inside you hug yourself. It feels so cold and depressing. Immediately the old fear of being stuck out in the vacuum of space, helpless and alone, assails you. Through the viewing window you stare at Earth, once more thinking of your mother, before entering the waste disposal unit to relieve yourself.

You wriggle out of your suit and sit. There's a blue streak of discharge in its crotch. You think about the sperm on the slides. You touch the streak and smooth its wetness between your fingers.

What has him so worried?

Shaking your head, you redress and step through the door. With a shriek, you jump back.

You're not alone.

Five drones are standing in the middle of the room, staring at you. The last time you saw them in such a big group was when they caught you in the dining area after escaping the lab. You feel a rush of fear, recalling the giant needle. They must know what you've done!

'I didn't mean to look!' you exclaim. 'I just had to know, that's all. I didn't do any damage, I swear!' Their big eyes stare at you emptily. You start to back away, but where are you going to go? You're stuck on their spaceship in the middle of space. 'Please.'

Your heart races as one of them steps towards you. Wordlessly, it holds out its hand.