Page 11 of Found


Font Size:

I was too nervous to continue, embarrassed about what and who I was. My hands fingered the blanket nervously as I refused to open my eyes.

“Selena. Look at me,”Xylo demanded.

Tears betrayed me; I turned my face away as I tried to hide them. I was ashamed—hated who I was—afraid of what would become of me and what he’d think after he learned precisely what the Yaarkins created me to be.

I heard Xylo move before the bed shifted with his weight. His smooth hand grasped my chin as he gently turned my face. I felt something cool wipe the tears away and opened my eyes in time to see a vine’s flowered tip retreating, its petals glistening with the wetness of my tears. My gaze trailed from the vine to his face, locking with his worried teal eyes as they studied me intently.

“What are you not telling me? What is distressing you so?”

“Why should I tell you? You’re going to hand me over to theAldawi soon, anyway. Or are you going to return me to the Yaarkins instead?”

Hysterical laughter exploded from me at the thought, and I pulled away, sitting up.

Xylo’s eyes widened in shock.“Why would I do that?”

“How can I trust some species wanting me who I’ve never met? No one else should know about me—unless they are allied with the Yaarkins and plan to return me for a reward! Why else would they warn you not to spread word of my discovery?”

Xylo looked completely bewildered by my outburst.

I took a moment to calm myself, then rolled my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m confused by all of this. I don’t know how to feel, Xylo. I want to trust you... but I don’t. I can’t return to captivity. To be the only thing I’ve known my entire life—a prototype. An experiment. Is it wrong to want to be able to call my life my own?”

“Selena, you must calm down. Give it time, we will figure everything out. You have been unconscious for five days we know of, and who knows how long before we discovered you. If you keep pushing yourself, you will come to harm; please lie down and allow yourself to recover fully,”he pleaded.“Your health is my highest priority. I am sorry for whatever distress I have caused, but if you do not settle down, I will have to sedate you. I would hate to do so and would only use such methods to protect you.”

One of Xylo’s vines gently wrapped around my wrist, preventing me from leaving the bed. I turned to face him, my fists clenched so tightly, my nails bit into my palms. I glared at him as I tried to yank my wrist from his vine.

“The Yaarkins took us from Earth as nothing more than test subjects. They believed our human ability to survive in diverse and extreme climates on Earth meant we’d be the perfect species... the perfect base species to study. With that adaptable genetic base, they’d be able to build and customize—creating the perfect soldier. And when each experiment failed, they tried to recoup whatever costs they could by selling our bodies as sex slaves. The adaptable human body—the gateway to the Yaarkins’ future generation of perfect soldiers—also turned out to be highly-prized by their customers for sex. They started breeding more females to generate greater income”—I was finding it harder and harder to breathe—“but I don’t know the details. I only know what I overheard as my masters experimented on me or what I intuited during their endless tests. I listened to everything, even the gossip and stories from the other humans who probably knew even less than I did...”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, pulling myself from the memories. I could feel every ache, magnified by my body’s fatigue. As I opened my eyes, I glanced down, focusing my gaze on Xylo’s chest once again. I couldn’t make myself look at his face.

“I don’t understand even half of what I overheard, but I’ll tell you everything I know. I hate what humans were. I hate how the other humans treated me aboard ship. I hate what was done to us. But I can’t withhold information that may help prevent others from being similarly mistreated. That may help others to be free. No one should be forced to endure what I was...”

I closed my eyes again and consciously unclenched my fists—uncurling each finger, one by one—flexing my cramping hands.

“I am the Master Scholar on this ship. I may not be the Senior Healer, but I have had medical training and have access to all CEG medical databases. If I don’t know or can’t find the medical information we need, I can meet with other healers when we arrive at CEG HQ. We will figure it out,”Xylo soothed.“I will seek council with my princes. We will need to inform the Aldawi immediately about this. And better to do so before we arrive at CEG HQ.”

I couldn’t let it rest yet. I had to get it all out, purge the poison that had festered inside for decades. With my eyes still screwed tightly shut, I gasped out,“They started by taking samples of all who were captured to genetically engineer both the eggs and the sperm. They then injected the females with thefertilized eggs. If a female’s pregnancy failed, they performed tests to find out why.... And if those tests determined she was unlikely to carry to term in another attempt, she was sent to be used as a sex slave until her body gave out. I don’t know what they were trying to accomplish. In a later round, I think they altered something and switched to an artificial womb, hoping to control the success rate. The older humans, those who survived their use as sex slaves, were given charge of the new generation. If the child they were entrusted with died, they were forced back into service until they died...”I was hiccupping as the tears poured down my face, my voice little more than a raspy croak.

The mattress shifted again as Xylo moved nearer. His vines pulled me to him, and he wrapped his arms around me, tugging me against his chest. I felt comforted by the gesture, but comfort was the last thing I needed until I managed to get this all out.

“Selena,” he pleaded, whispering in my ear.

“No!”I wailed,“You don’t understand. I am the only survivor from something they called ‘Project: Adapt’, the prototype for their next generation. They grew me in an artificial womb, then continually experimented as I grew—using mech technology to inject me with nanobots and altering my DNA. Between experiments, I was kept segregated from the other humans, left in my room with a tablet to keep me occupied. I spent my time learning everything I could—about the world, about the ship, about my masters—hoping, one day, I might find a way to escape. I never struggled because I saw what happened to those who did, and I knew they would reward me with more reading material if I complied with their tests and experiments. But every day, my only companion was pain, my thirst for knowledge, and dreams of escape the only things keeping me sane.”

I hiccupped on a sob.

“But I think not long ago, they must have deemed the experiment a failure. Nine days before I escaped, my masters put me up for auction. It was the first time... billed me as a ‘unique’experience—including my virginity—with an exorbitant price tag... said the fee would pay for a whole new experimental generation... I was the prototype, but they’d correct the remaining problems and finally have their perfect ‘Adapt’...”I sobbed into Xylo’s chest.

“That’s when I realized how different I looked than the other females lined up on the stage with me. I was the only one with silver hair and spotted skin. Everyone stared. It was... it was...”my hands clenched and unclenched against Xylo’s chest as I sought the words to explain—in vain“I finally realized maybe this is why I was a failure. Their experiments somehow resulted in me looking like I do.”

Xylo’s vines slid free and flailed behind him, while his arms pressed me closer to his body. I gasped for air, struggling for control... but when Xylo’s hand stroked my hair, I lost the battle. My emotions overwhelmed me, and I buried my face in his chest, soaking the downy fur as tears streamed from my eyes. Xylo did his best to comfort me in silence, only my sobs filling the void.

As my tears slowly eased, I noticed Xylo almost vibrating beneath me. He pulled me abruptly away from his chest, and I looked up in shock. His face was taut with unexpressed emotion—anger, sorrow, guilt—and his vines extended nearly straight out from his body, shaking.

“How many times?” he demanded, his voice full of rage.

I crossed my arms over my stomach defensively, trying to hold myself together and looked down at our bodies on the bed. All the anger, all the pain, all the sorrow had drained out of me. I didn’t know how to define what was left.