Page 65 of Their Human Pet


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So they took me from my mates and hid me in a strip club for three years until my mates found me. That fills in almost all the blanks. Almost.

But there’s a little more.

The time I came back having stolen their ship. That wasn’t that long ago. A few months, max. I guess they scooped me up as Icame in and handed me over to my handler for a lecture and another brain washing.

“You’re getting to be quite the problem, Agent Mills,” Mr. Brown says. “Every time we turn our backs, you’re fornicating with the aliens again and attempting to stop the human trade. It’s a billion-dollar industry. We would appreciate you not disrupting it.”

“But it’s wrong.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you work in the ethics division?”

“No,” I say. “But…”

“You have never been paid to discern right and wrong. You have been paid to bring those three aliens into our control. You’re going down to the ground. And if you’re unlucky, we might have you picked up and taken into the system.”

“What? No. You can’t ground me!”

“You’re being grounded,” he says, his tone somewhat mournful. “I didn’t want to do this to you, Agent Mills, but you’ve disappointed us at every turn. You’re lucky you’re not being more forcefully retired.”

“So that was about killing me!”

“We have gone a rather long way out of our way not to kill you,” he says. “You have no idea how close you’ve been to elimination multiple times. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a death wish.”

“Okay. So.”

“So now you’re grounded. A third, and I hope, final memory wipe is going to be undertaken. If you’re smart, you might beable to live your life out down there without anything horrible happening to you. If you’re not, well… let’s hope you are.”

“Please, Mr. Brown. I’m in love. I might even be pregnant. You can’t send me to Earth. People down there live like animals. They’re hunted by actual creatures, and there’s…”

“Yes. I know. Terrible. Anyway.”

And then my memories were gone again.

But now they’re back.

And here I am. In the same place I’ve been so many times before, and been entirely unable to remember. The liminal space of my nightmares is a conference room. That feels fitting somehow.

But this time I am not in trouble. This time I am the prodigal daughter, finally having delivered the alien mercenaries to the grasp of my corporate overlords.

“Melanie!” I exclaim. “My name is Melanie!”

Mr. Brown smiles. “Yes.”

“You have no idea what it’s like not being able to remember your own name. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, but the itch is inside your brain. I don’t recommend it.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he smiles.

I can’t let him know how I’m feeling about this situation. There have been so many lies, in a way. There’s been so much confusion. And I’ve effectively lived three separate timelines.

But one thing hasn’t changed. I’ve fallen for my mates every single time, and I’ve tried to save women every single time.

I wonder if that occurs to Mr. Brown. I really hope it doesn’t, or the next thing that happens will be some kind of projectile in my skull.

They wouldn’t have given me all my memories back just to kill me, I tell myself. If they want me to know everything, then there’s a reason for that.

“You’re being promoted,” Mr. Brown says. “No other agent has ever pulled off an interstellar mission of this magnitude. You’ve sacrificed your body and your mind for the company. We want you to know that will not be forgotten.”

“Wow, thank you. What will my new role be?”