Candidate (Selected Book 4) (3 page)

They didn't answer.

A moment later, they each took an arm. Without words, they turned me, and I began to slowly walk.

* * * *

I wouldn't have called it a long walk, but it was more than a few minutes and involved an elevator ride. They warned me, and they never released my arms the entire time.

"There's a chair at a table," said one of the women. "We'll move you to it. Slow steps." They pulled me forward until my stomach just came into contact with the table, Then they shuffled me sideways and said, "Sit."

I sat, and I felt the chair immediately swallow my legs. One of them unlatched the chain around my waist, and together they set my hands on the table in front of me. The table swallowed my arms. Then the hood relaxed around my neck, and the woman carefully pulled it from me.

Without another word, the two of them turned around and walked from the room.

I looked around. I was seated at a plain table. It wasn't metal. It appeared to be the same material as the walls of my cell, and when I looked, so was the chair. Neither the table nor the chair moved when I pushed on them.

My legs were encased up past my knees, and there was a "belt" around my waist, growing right out of the chair. In a way, it was like the chairs used during testing, but different at the same time. And my arms were encased the same way.

I wasn't going anywhere until someone released me.

The room was of moderate size, the walls plain grey and boring. Looking around, I couldn't see a single door. But at least the ceiling wasn't glass, and there weren't any aliens staring at me.

Of course, they could have alien cameras pointed at me, and I might not realize it.

I don't know how long I sat there. It was more than a few minutes but less than an hour. Then, from one moment to the next, an entrance formed in the wall to my left, and a moment later a figure appeared.

An alien figure.

She could have passed for a human woman if not for the glowing eyes.

Catseye.

We watched each other for a minute, neither of us saying anything, then she stepped fully into the room. The doorway disappeared, and after a moment she took a seat across the table from me. She was carrying a wooden case, and she set it down on the table and looked at me.

I could have sworn that chair wasn't there before.

"I am Administrator Brighteyes," she said by greeting. "You are Andromeda Hayes."

"I'd like to know what you think I did wrong."

"Nothing."

"Is it common practice for the aliens to throw women in jail for doing nothing wrong at all?"

"Yes, actually," she said. "And a few men."

"This isn't a job offer, is it?"

"No, it's not."

"I don't think it's at all coincidence that this happened the day I was fired."

"It's not," she said. "Although that was four days ago."

"Four. My roommate-"

"Has been informed you are out of town, as have your parents. All of them believe this is a job interview with the aliens."

"But it's not."

"No, it is not."

We stared at each other for a while. "Well, are you going to explain what it is, then?"

"When I first began these interviews, I told everyone in a brisk, efficient fashion why they were here. They all fell behind the conversation three sentences in. I've learned to let the candidate determine the pace of the conversation."

"Candidate?"

"Yes."

"Candidate for what?"

"You are here as a mating candidate."

"A what?"

"You will become mated to one of us."

"Like hell I will."

She smiled. "That's what most of the women say. And yet, here you are."

"Let me put it this way. Over my dead body."

"I hear that, too. I also hear over my dead body, or over that of the future mate. I also hear threats against the guards. I'd rather you didn't threaten them."

"You don't mind if I threaten you, but you ask me not to threaten the guards?"

"I have thicker skin," she explained. "They are human and can't help but react. But they don't always react appropriately, and sometimes it is another woman who suffers for it."

"Did you just blackmail me, telling me if I'm not polite to the guards, they'll beat one of the other women?"

"No. When someone is angry, he is not necessarily as kind and gentle as I would rather he be. The guards have never beaten anyone, but they can be brusque. The women in here all feel scared and vulnerable, and I'd rather the guards are able to be as compassionate as possible, under the situation."

"Are you that insane?" I asked.

"I have my sanity questioned often," she replied. "Earlier you suggested the timing wasn't coincidence. It wasn't. We know you lost your job, and we know why."

"Did you have anything to do with it?"

"No. You would have landed here six years ago, but you were borderline. I chose to let you remain where you were, but I flagged your file. You are not in a serious relationship and you are unemployed. Your parents are remarkably healthy, and there is no one directly dependent upon you for care."

"So I'm disposable."

"No. You are available."

"I don't believe that's your decision to make."

"And yet, here you are," she repeated. "So it appears it is my decision."

"You have no right!" I screamed.

"Ah, there we go. Humans always talk about rights, especially Americans."

"I want my lawyer," I demanded.

"Ah, I hear that a lot, too," she said. "There are currently two down in the cells. Human laws do not apply in this place."

I stared. "Where are we?"

"Still on Earth, if that's what you were wondering," she replied. "We are not, however, in the United States any longer." She smiled. "You had a comfortable flight."

"The in flight entertainment left something to be desired."

"Oh, humor," she said. "Actually, the in flight entertainment left nothing to be desired, but of course, you won't remember."

"Whatever," I said. "I'm not marrying any of you."

"We'll see," she said. She turned to the wooden box and tapped it with her fingers several times. "I am going to give you some choices."

"Oh,
now
I get choices?"

She opened the wooden box and withdrew from it one of the visors like they used in the testing center. She closed the box and then set the visor on top. She tapped her fingers against the tabletop several times before speaking. "Your first choice. You arrived at an odd time. We are on a cycle here typically lasting two weeks. In a way, you could consider the women here part of a class. The class is midway through the term. Do you understand?"

"I suppose I do."

"Your first choice is this. I can tell you nothing, but tomorrow morning, you will be collected from your cell, and a modified version of what typically happens will happen to you. You will go into it knowing nothing more than I've already told you."

"I take it this involves rape?"

"No, actually, it doesn't. Your other choice is to ask me to fit this in place. There is a program to play that will explain our normal process. It lasts nearly exactly one hour. But there will be a price."

"And then tomorrow whatever you're going to do to me will happen, anyway?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps we will reach another agreement."

"One where you let me go?"

"Of course not. But one that offers you more choices."

"What is the price?" I gestured with my nose.

"Two simple promises. You will promise to do your best to be polite. And you will promise to engage in no self harm or threats of self harm."

"You're afraid I'll attempt suicide?"

"Yes, actually."

"So whatever is going to happen is so bad that I'm likely to prefer death?" I shook my head. "You're going to give me to one of those assholes who was watching me, and I'm supposed to take it? Fuck you." I began struggling with the chair and table, trying to free myself, but both hugged me tighter, not releasing me. I struggled harder and harder and began screaming at her.

Nothing I screamed was that creative, but it was certainly heartfelt. The Catseye sat dispassionately until I slumped, panting heavily.

"So much for the aliens coming in peace," I said. "Fucking lying rapists."

"No one has raped you," she said. "And actually, no one is going to. You actually have some choices. Our placement rate is 87 percent, and amongst those I personally attend to, it's 100 percent."

"Excuse me?"

"Most of the humans who have come through here are now happily mated. Most of them went through an automated process that is largely managed by my aides. A small number have been attended to more directly by me, and every single one is exceedingly happy. If you ask for the visor and agree to my terms, I will oversee your process directly. If not, then I will wash my hands with you and let my aides follow their normal process."

"What happened to that last 13 percent?" I asked. "Are they dead?"

"A few may be due to the vagaries of life," she replied. "But we didn't kill them. Some are back home, attempting to live their lives. Some of those are happy; most are not. The rest found someone else."

"So I could still go home?"

"That possibility exists, although it is small."

"It seems like I should tell you to fuck off."

"You aren't considering the angles."

"You haven't told me enough to consider."

"You're a smart woman. Put two and two together. If you don't accept my offer, what is going to happen tomorrow?"

"You haven't told me."

"I've told you enough to make an educated guess."

"You're going to give me to another alien, and he's going to rape me."

"He's not going to rape you, and it's more complicated than that. But you have the basic idea. And what's going to happen if you accept my offer?"

I looked down at the visor. I stared at it for a while then looked back up at her. "You said we might reach another agreement."

She smiled. "Tell me. If your choice is to be given to one of the males, or the chance of some other fate, which would you prefer?"

"What other fate?"

She leaned back in the chair and didn't answer. I stared at her for a while, trying to glare. It was hard to be taken seriously when nearly naked and as helpless and vulnerable as I felt.

"Why aren't I wearing my clothes?"

"The visor explains," she said. "I'm not answering questions like that. You've heard my price. But I'm a busy woman, so I do hope you'll decide in the next minute or two."

"Wait," I said. "Just wait."

"You have everything you need to know to make a decision, Ms. Hayes."

"Just wait," I said. "You told me your personal success rate is 100 percent. How big a sample size is that?"

"I admit: it's not very large."

"More than zero?"

She made a bark of a noise, and I decided it was how she laughed. "Yes. It would take all my fingers and some of my toes to count. So not many."

"Compare to how many the other way?"

"A lot, lot more."

"Twenty? Fifty?"

"Add a few zeros to that," she said.

"Oh shit."

"I am a busy woman, Ms. Hayes. Have you decided?"

"Please just wait," I said.

"For a price."

"With you there is always a price?"

"Yes. If you wish me to wait, you will ask politely, and you will either smile or say something nice about me."

"Seriously?"

She started to get up.

"Please!" I said. "Administrator... I'm sorry, I forgot."

"Brighteyes," she said. "Jasmine Brighteyes. Yes?"

"Administrator Brighteyes," I said. "Please give me a chance to think." She settled down and crossed her arms. I couldn't conjure a smile, but I said, "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you," she said.

"Will you help me, Administrator?"

"I don't normally do these interviews, Ms. Hayes. That's what employees are for. The fact that I'm sitting here should tell you something."

"If I send you away, or you grow tired of waiting, then tomorrow you will give me to one of the leering males."

"Or something like that, yes."

"If I accept your offer, then you'll explain what's going on, and then you suggested something else might happen."

"Yes."

"You also said your personal success rate is perfect."

"Yes. We've reviewed this already."

"I think I only have one more question. How many of them were lesbians?"