Primal Estate: The Candidate Species (21 page)

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Authors: Samuel Franklin

BOOK: Primal Estate: The Candidate Species
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Nwella looked over his shoulder, down the beach to where her father would be and didn’t see him. Nwella knew she was on adventure, and that gave her a little leeway when it came to her actions. She wasn’t sure if what she was about to do was outside of protocol for adventure, but she was tired of trying to keep track. Under these circumstances, if this man had been a Provenger, it would now be her prerogative to offer herself to him. Wasn’t the wild and outrageous the standard for adventure? Wasn’t there a very loose and forgiving attitude when it came to transgressions during adventure? Hadn’t Father just left her to pursue his? He might be gone for some time. Shouldn’t she have hers?
Nwella reached out, pushed his chin up with her fingertips and locked her eyes on his. Even in the blazing light of midday, her intent made her pupils large. He saw this as he instinctively stared back into them, and the completely unexpected became real. He imagined that a spell was being cast on him and his head began to swim.
Nwella slowly dropped to her knees as she drew in a deep breath, smelling her way down his still heaving, breathing body, dripping with sweat. His scent was of earth and of sunlight on skin, and the tip of her nose became wet from a droplet as it rubbed down his skin. Once on her knees she grabbed him with her hands and pressed her left cheek to the skin below his navel, turned her head slowly, and pressed her right cheek to the same spot. Nwella began to sweat and her heart beat faster. She could tell he was getting the right idea. Maybe these humans weren’t so different, she thought.
She stroked him with her hands as she rose to her feet. He touched her body as their gaze met. While looking at him again, straight in the eyes without blinking, she let go with her right hand and drew it back. She smacked him as hard as she could with an open hand on his backside and jumped away from him, smiling.
His eyes bloomed wide, and a confused stupor gave way to a warm smile. He crouched slightly, raised his hands in front of him as if ready to attack. His muscles bulged, and he was rigid and looked huge. The deep gasping from his run turned into the rhythmic breathing of excitement, and he slowly stepped toward her.
She matched his steps forward with equal steps backward as the two developed their own dance, a leap apart. He understood the dance, she thought. They already felt a union. After four such steps, Nwella shrieked with excitement, turned, and ran down the shoreline, in the direction away from where her father was. She ran as fast as she could, and he followed.
He was amazed at her speed and for a moment thought that she was really trying to escape from him until she glanced back at him, flashing a smile. Her body was trim and muscular, and the white sandy soles of her feet taunted him as he followed her with eyes and body, putting full effort into both. She must be a witch.
She felt free and wild with the wind billowing across every inch of her bare skin as she fluemed, filling the air in his path with her sweet, fleshy scent. He would catch her and take her.
As he pursued at a full sprint, his desire to catch her suddenly began to rage within, and a madness of lust compelled him. Just when he thought his heart would burst, she left the hard, wet sand, veered for the water, and dove into the waves. He followed, dove, grabbed her feet, and pulling her toward him, took her waist in his grip. She grabbed him, wrapping herself tightly and engulfing him around the waist with her legs. He held her thighs and stood as she released her arms, her hands clearing her face of water, continuing to the back of her bald head where they stayed as she gripped tighter with her legs and leaned back, flexing the hard muscles of her stomach. Her nipples poised on her round breasts turned rigid from the cool water and warm wind as he walked them both out to the sand. His legs quivering from the chase and their combined weight, he dropped to his knees, lowering her to the hard, wet sand, the salty foam flowing around them. Their breath was heaving in unison from the dead sprint, and their blood was pounding.
Nwella closed her eyes. His strong arms held at the base of her spine as she arched her back and bridged her head into the sand; his body curled over hers. She then gripped him and dug her nails into the back of his arms. Nwella felt like she was in the waves as the motion between them created its rhythm. She indulged herself in what she wished had been an eternity. The surf washed around them, pushing, then pulling their locked bodies against the firm beach. The warm breeze slid between the few gaps of their intertwined forms. Nwella felt a heavy thud that vibrated through her torso, and she lifted her head.
Opening her eyes, she was blinded by hot liquid shooting in her face. She turned away, tried to see again, and everything was red through her burning eyes. She smelled blood and screamed. She pushed away, and the man’s severed head was lying next to her, eyes wide and staring. The stump of his neck was pumping blood on her chest and face, and her father was standing over them. Synster was dripping with blood, and one shoulder was laid open, flesh hanging off. He was white as lime, his chest heaving as though he was drowning, and he collapsed on top of them both. Nwella was pinned and squirmed out from under the two blood-soaked men…
“Nwella! Nwella! Have you been listening to a single thing I’ve said? You’ve got to stop with your childish action…”
“Stop!” Nwella screamed as loud as she could. “I’ve had enough of this.” Her memories of that day had finally become completely clear. Her resentment surfaced, and she lost control. “The Project is failing, and you know it!” she shrieked. “We’ll end up in The Bowels, and everyone who’s watched me act superior during the protocols will jeer at me and treat me with contempt. I will be a joke in their talk!” Nwella screamed at him, losing control with the eruption of a building rage.
“Nwella, you little deviant, you don’t have th…”
“No! You don’t have control over anything!” Nwella was feeling vicious and wanted to hurt him for what he’d done on the beach. “Even your wife goes to that human at the sparring ring!”
Synster first looked at her in surprise and disgust. Then he lashed out with a lightning-fast strike to her face. The impact sent her crashing into the viewer and onto the floor. Spittle erupted from his mouth, “You should never talk…!” Synster stopped. He realized what he’d done. He could lose everything from the consequences. He looked around nervously as if to check if anyone had seen. He realized the threshold shield wasn’t working properly and someone might have been able to see in.
It happened so fast that Nwella knew she’d been struck only after she’d hit the floor. Her sprawled figure lay still for a moment. Then she slowly rose to her feet. She knew what this meant. They were done. All her anger seemed gone. As only a Provenger can, she rejected all emotions in the process of dissociating herself from the dominion of her parents.
Nwella stood erect, stared Synster in the chest, and tried to control her quivering voice. “I am declaring Disinterest in this family. I will be moving myself to the Lofts when there is an available cell. I am older and none will see it as unreasonable.”
She’d said it. Synster couldn’t believe it. His wife with the sparring human, his daughter leaving him. His world was quickly crumbling.
Chapter 15
Back on EartH
The musty smell of the desert was the first sensation Rick had. Then a thin rain fought for the attention of his senses as he roused from the trauma of a strange day. The sun had just set in Ruin Canyon with just a dim glow in the west, and he woke with the feeling that he’d suffered a horrible nightmare. But he paid little attention to his desire for it to be a bad dream.
As he grew more aware, the light rain slowed to a stop and Rick sat upright. He looked at the tag on his wrist and he knew he was not crazy. Now, the tag looked like a wristwatch but Rick could tell what it was. They must have changed it. It felt the same on his flesh and he couldn’t find a way to take it off. Rick leaned back on a rock and wished again he’d just had a bad knock on the head. He hadn’t. He thought about the things he needed to do since agreeing to Synster’s deal. The issues flooded his mind, the assassinations, the threat to humanity, the danger to his world. Rick vomited a mixture of stomach bile and Provenger water down his chest.
This made him feel a little better in the stomach but left him even more depressed, feeling pitiful, covered in his own mess. He was surprised to find his pack on the ground to his right and pulled it to his lap. He unzipped it and removed a water bottle. He took a swig, swished it around in his mouth, and spat it out. He then pulled out a sweatshirt. Feeling as if he were drunk, he took off the jacket with the vomit and threw it to his left. He put on the sweatshirt and thought about shooting himself in the head. Then he remembered his gun had been destroyed by Synster. He felt remorse over his two favorite guns being destroyed. These would be the first things he’d ask for under their agreement. He’d ask for replacements and more.
Rick knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. He was angry and wanted his life back, the normal, boring life where he would work, then retire, then grow old while supporting his son, and eventually die an obscure detail in history. He didn’t want to be involved in anything but fading away. This beast Synster the Provenger has got to come back in my lifetime to harvest his meat, he thought. What are the chances?
Rick hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, waking to the sound of a man yelling at him. Some guy was leaning over him, had him by the shoulders, shaking him, and it was annoying.
“You okay? You okay? I was just across the wash and I couldn’t find you. I was zigzagging back and forth in the dark and eventually I found you from over there.” The man pointed somewhere into the dark. “I saw you when you were taken and waited all afternoon. I was about to leave when I saw a small light in about the same place where I saw you disappear. I came down as quick as I could. You okay?”
Rick looked at this man and after his eyes cleared, he realized it was Tony with the flat tire, the guy who was following him. Rick rubbed his eyes slowly and held the sides of his head. “What time is it?
“About nine, nine thirty,” responded Tony. “I saw the guy take you.”
“What day is it? Is it still Friday?”
“Yeah, it’s still Friday. Where the hell were you?”
Rick tried to stand but felt stiff and decided to sit for a while longer.
“Would you believe I was on a spaceship orbiting Saturn?”
“I don’t know what to believe, but after what I saw that guy do, and you still went over to him; you’ve got some kind of balls! What happened?”
Rick continued to rub the sides of his head with both hands, still wanting to believe he’d had a bad dream. Slowly Rick took his phone from his pocket, activated the camera app and looked at his recent pictures. His smiling face stared back at him from the screen, a “selfie” he had taken while holding his camera with his outstretched arm, alone in Synster’s office. The picture wasn’t bad. He was standing in front of a window, the planet Saturn in the background outside. “Yep.” He casually showed it to Tony and immediately remembered the tag on his wrist. Shit, he thought, I don’t really know what this thing does. It could be monitoring everything we say. If it knows the words that I’m thinking, well, I’m just screwed. The least I can do is try to prevent it from hearing us.
With this thought Rick quickly dug a shallow hole in the loose sand, stuck his wrist in, covered it, and then pulled a medium size rock over it. And there he lay on his side.
Rick was tired and had expected to die numerous times during the last eight hours. He thought about concocting some story for Tony but was just too exhausted. He knew he couldn’t pull it off. He needed to tell someone, to show the picture, to confirm for him that he was not insane, to believe him. Tony had already seen his abduction and was already talking about what happened. Rick caved to his weakness.
Rick put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. You’re going to think I’m insane. He took me to a ship,” pointing up to the sky, “orbiting Saturn, of course,” Rick said in a low-toned whisper, but slowly and clearly, “…told me all mankind is a feedlot to be harvested for them to eat, and he wants my help to do it.”
Tony looked at the picture. “I don’t know if you’re fuckin’ with me or not, but I know what I saw. That guy took down a mountain lion with his bare hands.”
“Knives actually.”
“Then he destroyed your guns and both of you disappeared in a circle of light. I’ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t run off and tell anyone. No one would believe me. So I waited all afternoon ‘til now to try to find out what the hell was going on.”
Being with a fellow human again made Rick drop all pretenses. “Hey, why the fuck are you following me, anyway?”
“Where did you go? What’s going on?” Tony ignored Rick’s question.
“I already told you. They want to eat us.”
“Who wants to eat us?”
“The aliens who came here twelve thousand years ago. They started agriculture for us. Gave us grains so we’d be freed from hunting, so we could settle down, specialize and populate Earth, so they could have enough of us to eat!”

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