Rick had always wondered why there wasn’t the kind of large and dangerous animal diversity elsewhere in the world that there was in Africa.
“That is how humanity spread so quickly once it emerged from Africa. Humanity hunted its way across continents. When we arrived, your race was at its zenith. All was good and there was plenty of game. But within a very short time, with a population explosion and most continents exploited and with the recent development of the bow and other hunting methods, you were on your way to exterminating them all. We let the mammoth become extinct as it would have been disruptive to agriculture. I had mammoth for lunch yesterday, by the way. Excellent texture. We could create living mammoth from the tissue we have if we needed. We have a few planets we’re looking at.
“So you see, Rick, as a race, you would have been much less without us. If we hadn’t come, you would have hunted the relatively gentle cow and horse into extinction. Ever notice that there are only zebra left in Africa and no wild horses? What would have pulled your plows, carried your goods? You would be hunter gatherers reduced to chasing rats and eating grubs. We examined the outcome with our Algorithm. If not for our intervention, your population would be ninety-nine percent fewer. We made you what you are today. We can unmake you.”
Rick understood his message. Mankind had regularly eaten all kinds of animals, hunting the easiest first. Rick realized he was still digressing and needed to get back on track. “Since we do look so similar, are we related in any way?”
“We may be, as closely as you are related to a chimpanzee. We suffered horribly from a war not long ago. Much of our history was contained in electronic media that were destroyed in the conflict.”
Rick inadvertently expressed doubt.
Synster sighed and continued. “Imagine if your entire civilization’s academic community were destroyed in a horrible war along with all their records, computer files, and books. And all you had left to reconstruct your society was the military establishment that had managed to defend itself. That is what we endured. Those surviving Provenger reconstructed as much of our history as they could, but were not experts regarding all the details of all fields. Some large portions of our history were a complete loss. We have, of course, our ability to isolate our DNA and have found we do potentially have a common origin, if that’s the answer you’re looking for. But we are a very different species. We cannot interbreed.”
Now that was a little more information than Rick was looking for, and he found it interesting that Synster added it, although Rick had already considered the topic himself during his brief tour of the ship. Despite the hatred and disgust he’d developed for the Provenger in the couple short hours in which his concept of the world had been crushed by them, he had to admit, they were very attractive, if you could get past the lack of eyebrows.
During his tour, he’d seen many men and women, and they were all, without exception, tall, of strong stature, with well-developed musculature. So much so, he found himself questioning under his breath, “What are these people on?” At first, they all looked somewhat similar, but when he looked more carefully, he could see a diversity. Some were stockier, some were slim, and others had very delicate features while some were hard and thick. He saw none that looked even remotely fat, weak, or diseased. They all had straight teeth, solid posture, and clear skin. They had the appearance of super beings.
After overcoming his shock and resigning himself to his situation, he was amused by their sense of style. The men went mostly bare chested, except for a circular collar draped from the base of their neck encircling it, with slight coverage in front, on the shoulders, and back. It was highly decorative and seemed so thin and supple that it was always in contact with their skin. A few wore a tunic, open at the front. Most had some kind of forearm coverings, somewhat like gauntlets, except without the knives that Synster had worn when he killed the cougar. They all had, hanging from their waists in the front and back, knee-length, highly decorative cloth panels that almost had the look of a kilt. Overall, their clothing looked very ancient in design. Rick felt like he was among warriors of ancient Sumer or Egypt. Most wore sandals on their feet, but many went barefoot.
The females were the most interesting. Aside from being completely bald and their unnerving appearance with no eyebrows, Rick thought he might be able to get used to them. The young females wore a dress that reminded Rick of pictures he’d seen of the Minoan people. The entire front of their dress exposed their chest and stomach down to below the navel, with their breasts slightly crowded to the center by the raised collar of their plunging “neckline”. Their hemline was long to the ankle on one side and, vaulting up, it usually exposed the leg completely on the other. The dress was tight around the buttocks, possibly made of this same material that hugged the skin. It seemed obvious to Rick that this clothing was designed specifically to showcase their feminine attributes, and the effect was spectacular. “This is how our unmarried women dress in public,” Synster told him when he saw Rick’s surprise. If Rick hadn’t been distracted by the end of civilization as he knew it, he would have thoroughly enjoyed himself.
“So you come to Earth thousands of years ago, introduce us to agriculture so we fill the planet, and return now to harvest us for food,” Rick paused. “You get a full ship, then you go home, wherever that is, to sell your product?”
“That is a gross simplification. For us, it was less than ten years. But, yes, that is what we do.”
“So,” Rick continued, “how do you make sure, if your form of travel involves forward time travel, or time dilation, that you arrive back to a time where you have others of your people… um sorry, your kind, there to trade with?”
Synster was impressed with Rick. This was finally a good question. “We are all on the same travel schedule. We know when we must travel, and for how long, to rendezvous at the same place in time. It is all worked out before we depart.”
“How many bodies do you need?”
“I will decline to answer that question.”
That answer means the number they need is so great it would disturb me. A tenth, half the population of the Earth, Rick wondered. “So how long will you be with us?” Rick considered this information vital.
“I won’t tell you that exactly. I will only say that we will benefit from your company for approximately two to twenty years,” Synster said with a smile. “As for you, consider it a long-term relationship. Your future, Rick, lies with us.”
Well, that narrows it down, Rick thought. “What other people will you be contacting? Will I be part of some kind of a team?”
“You will not know that unless we tell you or they are allowed to tell you. There is no team.”
At that moment, someone entered the room behind Rick, and Synster sprang to his feet as his face became at once either surprised or irritated; Rick couldn’t tell.
“I apologize. The threshold cloak was flickering and didn’t indicate there was anyone in here,” she said. It was a voice so feminine and soothing that Rick was shocked
“The cloak doesn’t work properly when there is a tag in the area,” Synster snapped while gesturing to the device on Rick’s arm. “You should know that.”
“Oh yes, I do,” she replied while walking around to Synster’s side of the desk as he sat down. “But how was I to know that before I came in?” She sat down on top of his desk and folded her right leg over the left, exposing them both from under the long side of the gown. She had a plate of covered food in her hands. She put it down in front of Synster. This should irritate father, Nwella thought as she put her left hand on the table, leaned on it, and planted a broad smile on Rick.
Rick could tell the good-smelling food was some kind of roasted meat along with something else he couldn’t identify. Human flesh, he thought?
She was the most exotic female Rick had ever seen. For a moment, he thought that if Synster offered him this beauty, he would consider delivering the body and soul of every human being on Earth, both living and dead. An instant later, he wondered if this could be part of his recruitment. Her left arm crushed into her side as she leaned on it, demonstrating lean yet sizable muscles. She was unmarried, as indicated by her bare, round breasts protruding from her dress. Her naked legs, freed from coverage by the left side of her gown, and folded on the table, were tan and smooth. With her legs uncovered, her arms bare, and the entire front of her body exposed, there was so much glowing bronze skin in front of Rick it gave him the impression that she was completely nude. Rick couldn’t believe it when Synster said, “This is my daughter, Nwella.”
Rick almost expected, or wanted him to say something like, “This is your prize for helping us eat all of mankind.”
I must be in hell, he thought. She appeared to him to be about as young as a female could be while still being fully developed. Rick didn’t know where to look. All he was trying to do was gather information in a feeble attempt to save humanity, and here he had to deal with this goddess distracting him, displaying just about everything she had, and she was the daughter of his enemy. Then he was suddenly aware that all he was wearing was a thin robe.
“I wanted to bring you your dinner since you were working late. And who is this?” She looked at Rick, turning her shoulders square to him, her breasts staring at him like a second pair of eyes. And he stared back.
“You know who…” Synster paused and started again. “This is Rick Thompson, a human. Of course, you know that.” Synster seemed flustered.
“Yes,” she said, looking him deep in the eyes, “How old are you?” Nwella found him very interesting. His shaggy silver hair reminded her of the primitives she’d met years ago. She still had fond memories of them. And this one had silver hair on his chin. It somehow made him look wise.
“Fifty.” Rick observed her surprise. He knew he tended to look older than he was, due to his premature graying. But when his hair was cut close and his face clean shaven, he looked twenty years younger. He caught himself wanting to be attractive to this thing. Why was that, he wondered? He should want to kill her.
She smiled again. “Poor thing,” she said pursing her lips.
I need to get back on task. Should I keep asking questions in front of her? Would it be rude? Rick decided to wait and say nothing.
“Nwella dear, we need to get some things done,” Synster said, with irritation in his voice even Rick could detect.
Synster was incensed with his daughter. As soon as she’d come in, she’d released her sex pheromone. He caught it on the air as she sat on his desk. Why does she play games like this? They would have a talk later.
Before she left, Nwella walked up next to him, bent down, and put her nose next to Rick’s mouth. He thought she was going to kiss him and Rick almost puckered his lips. She drew a deep breath as she smelled from his chin, up his face, and across his hair.
Rick was glad he’d been washed. He thought about how he normally didn’t wear cologne, but noticed that whatever they’d washed him with smelled pretty good. He was careful not to exhale so she wouldn’t smell his breath.
As she smelled him, he turned his head toward her and his eyes worked down her neck, breasts, stomach, and finally to her navel. He couldn’t help himself. He felt a shudder leap from the base of his spine up to the vicinity of his bladder, then dissipate everywhere from his thighs to his chest. He was afraid it had actually made him move. She stood up and ran her fingers through his hair. She smiled at him one last time. Rick smiled back like an idiot, and she walked toward the threshold.
“Good evening, Father.”
“Nwella,” Synster replied.
“Nwella,” Rick said unconsciously under his breath, as if she’d said goodbye to him. He was still smiling.
It was everything Rick could do to keep from turning around to watch her leave. He felt like he’d just made love to her, right there in front of her father, a mortal enemy. His mortal enemy! It never even occurred to him to reach out, grab her throat, and destroy her as quickly as possible. No doubt the “tag”, as Synster called it, would have stopped him. Rick took a deep breath and tried to focus.
“So you mentioned this pain device on my wrist is called a tit-aaaa-tag? What does it do?”
“That is merely a device designed to identify and control you. It takes your own impulses to initiate an activity that we have forbidden and turns them against you as pain. The more intense your desire to do the thing we have told you not to do, the more intense the pain. It has a variety of setting levels. We can also initiate the pain for punishment or training.”
“Can you take it off me if I promise to be good?” Rick once again felt like a child but didn’t care. He was already playing that role to look stupid and once again, he was doing it well.
“No, we don’t trust you.”
Rick wished he could jump up quickly at that moment and lunge toward Synster without the intent to touch him, just to test the device, to see if it would activate even when he didn’t intend to do harm, but he didn’t. He was too close to its last demonstration of pain, and it had him scared.
With this thought of pain, Rick began to feel tired and abandoned hope of trying to maintain some line of questioning that would provide him with a foundational knowledge of the Provenger. His impulses for self-preservation kicked in.