My low-tech bulletproof glass prison didn’t stop me from collecting data. The aliens hadn’t even realized I was wearing an implant.
They thought I was the test subject but that wasn’t the case. I watched as the boss, Dr. Trout ordered the new scientists into the room to meet me for the first time. These Terran “scientists” knew no more than primary school students on Pollux I, but from what I heard, they were the top secret scientists working for the United States government.
The planet had not yet had an alliance of its land masses. Primitive politics. Primitive science. I ached to free myself from their subterranean prison. On Pollux I, I enjoyed the status of my rank as Second Proconsul. That status allowed me to be chosen for this mission. I’d expected engaging in friendly debate with locals, and perhaps engaging with sophisticated scientists but these unathletic, uninspired apes could do nothing to impress me.
At least, that’s what I thought until I saw Dr. Minnie Hsu. As she entered the room and stared at me for the first time, her biometric readings were noticeably calmer than her counterparts. She was just as surprised as they were but she didn’t balk. She didn’t vomit like Dr. John Billings or shake and cry like Dr. Declan Chubb. She stared at me with pure unfilteredcuriosity, the kind I’d assumed no one on her planet could possibly have.
When Dr. Trout hurried her out of my prison, I yearned to call her name and reveal that I could speak English. She’d been assigned to take care of me and I could assume then that we would have plenty of time alone. I lay back on my cot, closing my eyes and interfacing with my ocular implant that the Terrans had yet to detect despite their insistence in probing me and their implicit belief that their simple technology could provide them with all the answers.
I remained interfaced all night. I recorded a message for my brother at home who was currently occupying my seat within the imperium. I used the implant to keep my muscles flexed so I wouldn’t lose the tone I’d built up from my latest alpine adventures on Pollux II.
I checked in with my own biometric data, assuring myself that despite my first week of tests and drawn blood that my lung, livers and hearts were functioning within regular parameters.
There was only one part of me that was irregular. But I’d have to go a long six months without worrying about that particular organ.
Two days or so passed. Unlike people on our world who kept each shift occupied, the Terrans took regular breaks. This “weekend” was a big part of their culture — a time when they indulged in food, and sex, and drink. I heard Dr. Trout talking about it on their primitive metal receivers.
I envied this release of theirs that I would be unable to enjoy until the very end of my captivity.
The scientists returned in the dead of night after leaving me beneath the earth for two days. The needle and bag stuck into my arm were their undeveloped method of supplying me with nutrients, yet my lips still craved the gentle touch of water. Andsunlight. Or moonlight. From what I knew about their moon, moonlight would have done just as well.
Dr. Trout came in first. He pressed his little card to the door and men with guns filed in behind him, pressing their primitive metal weapons into me. I remained stone faced.
“Take the alien to the operating room. Today we’re running the blood letting tests. Dr. Hsu will be joining us soon. Make sure the captive is secure.”
“Yes, Dr. Trout,” the leader replied.
My implant made light work of their primitive language which was all verbal with only a mild non-verbal element, nothing the implant couldn’t handle and nothing as complicated as the artificial life forms in the Pollux system.
Dr. Hsu was the most interesting alien amongst them. Like on our planet, their females were small — although they were much smaller than ours — and this female had long black hair which reminded me of one of the exotic dancers I’d met while visiting Tau III.
I followed the soldiers, cowering and bowing my head as if I feared them. It would have been folly to let them know just how little I feared them.
In the room, they strapped me to a cot. I could sense what was coming next would be painful. I closed my eyes, flexing my arm muscles in my restraints. If the pain was too much, I could easily break out of the restraints. But to do that at the risk of ruining the first contact mission would mean risking everything, including my status as proconsul, which I was unwilling to sacrifice. I’d have to remain there, affixed to a cot with a madman and his assistant approaching me with their weapons of torture.
I closed my eyes and I could hear her voice.
“Dr. Trout, if he’s sentient, we shouldn’t be cutting into him with a scalpel.”
“Minerva. If you wish to step aside from this research project, it’s within your rights but you signed a document pledging your allegiance to the U.S. government. If you don’t do what I’m asking, there’s another scientist who would be willing.”
The two stank of rubber and their environment wasn’t nearly as sterile as they thought. I stared at the ceiling, holding my breath until I felt the scalpel scraping open my flesh. I grit my teeth. Hot blood gushed out of the cut Dr. Trout made on my arm.
“Record this. Subject has dark purple blood. Skin tougher to cut into that most animal flesh. Pain tolerance to be determined.”
“How are we going to determine the pain tolerance?” She asked, discomfort evident in her voice.
“Electricity. Come, hook up the electrodes to his chest.”
Her gloved hands moved as gently as they could and she slapped primitive electrodes on my chest. I’d read about these in my history books and their technology had to have been around 600 years behind ours — if not more. That didn’t mean their methods couldn’t hurt.
At first the electricity felt like only a mild buzz and then the pain escalated as I fought every urge to scream and escape. My ocular implant sent warning vibrations shuddering through my body as my pain levels reached a critical level. Desperate to fight the impact of their experiments, I fought back screams. My muscles tensed and dark purple veins popped out of my arms.
“Dr.Trout, I don’t think he can take it anymore.”
“Quiet, Minerva…” Dr. Trout growled.
That was the last thing I heard before losing consciousness.
