Observation by Orestes
Copyright 2000, Orestes
Military experiments on alien lifeforms strands a female scientist in isolation, to be observed by her fellow scientists.
Every time I was brought in for a project, the brass seemed to think it was the end of the world. No time to waste. Your flight is waiting. Don't ask where you're off to.
Then I'd be brought to some offshore platform, or remote island base, or underground bunker to find a familiar collection of civilian scientists, chuckling to themselves over the latest bit of military overreaction. Despite the fact that I had nothing to do with propagating these bouts of governmental paranoia, I could see their amusement as I walked into the briefing room, wearing the trappings of my rank, and ready to take over the investigation.
After they all went home, I'd be the one who spent days writing explanations about how our initial reports misinterpreted a simple equipment malfunction as 'first contact'. But as much as I resented the condescending smirks of the civilian scientists, who were sure that my military qualifications precluded any possibility of intellect, I was always rather relieved that it turned out this way.
The flirtation was nice. I liked to flirt with the science fiction concept of some bald headed aliens who teased the general public by making crop circles, abducting cows, and generally keeping themselves prominent in the pages of the National Enquirer. Sometimes I even wanted to believe that it was true. But whenever I got new orders, my heart began to race. Reality has a different flavour.
This last one was different. There was a little more time. You see, the evidence hadn't yet arrived.
“This might be the one we've been waiting for, Jamie,” Emma told me. We had worked together on several investigations. Emma outranked me by a fair bit, and was first on the scene. Because we were both females, one of the civilian scientists had joked that the USA had cooked up a strategy to greet the UFO's with a little T&A.
“You know more than I do then.”
“Yes. They consulted me before taking it aboard the shuttle. They were concerned that they couldn't keep up the proper level of containment.”
“Oh my god, Em, what do we have coming in here?”
“It more likely to be organic in nature than technological. Although it seems to have been slowed by a collision, it was still orbiting earth at a high velocity. We believe the outer shell would have protected it during entry.”
She handed me the initial report. With my heart in my throat, I opened the file. I wanted to consume every detail as quickly as possible, but I found myself frozen on the first page. It was the picture that stopped me, and it only took one look to set aside any doubts.
This was real.
We didn't know what to call it. Unimaginatively, I referred to it in my mind as ' the pod'. It reminded me of a pea pod, bulging with seed on one end, and flattened on the other. No doubt the odd shape would have served to help the pod glide into the atmosphere, allowing the thick shell to protect the contents.
It was distinctively biological. And though it clearly didn't come from the earth, it seemed like mother nature fashioned it with her own hand. I couldn't help thinking, in fact, that the whole thing seemed quite phallic in shape.
“It should be here within twelve hours. We decided not to raise any questions by attempting an early landing.”
By the time the civilian scientists arrived, not taking this alert any more seriously than the last, we were receiving more initial reports from the flight crew. Mass. Volume. Ambient temperature. It was too late for second thoughts now. This was the real thing, and the scientists stood with stunned expressions as we reviewed the file's contents on an oversized video screen.
No doubt about it. We were well prepared. The containment room was sterile. Security was double and triple checked. After the pod arrived, no one would leave this place, possibly for months, while we studied it. If something went wrong… well, I tried not to think of the possibility. Better to focus on our task. Security. Containment.
There was a delay in transport, and, after staying awake in preparations for a day and a half, I finally relented to my own natural needs, and took to sleep.
“Jamie… ” Emma shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes to the darkness of my room.
“Hmm?”
“It's here.”
I struggled to keep my heart within my chest as I scrambled to my feet. My watch told me it had been four hours of sleep, but my body said otherwise. I tried to shake off the effects of my already fading dreams as I followed Emma barefooted into the observation room.
Through multiple layers of security glass, I could see its polished and pock-marked shell gleaming in the dimness of the containment room. This was a privilege. Along with the half dozen civilian researchers chosen for the project, Emma and I would unlock the secrets of this life form. For a full five minutes, I couldn't take my eyes off of it. This was no asteroid. It pronounced a beauty and symmetry that only nature could design.
When I finally pulled my attention away, it was only because I could feel the eyes of Mark Burrows on me. He was a top computer scientist from MIT, and was probably disappointed that alien life hadn't presented itself as a box of flashing lights and Star Trek sound effects. That is, he might have been disappointed, if he wasn't too busy checking out my body through the T-shirt and panties I had slept in.
“Oh, grow up,” I told him, not even bothering to check if the other guys were gawking as I retreated to my quarters. Christ. We're beginning the biggest challenge of our scientific careers, and these guys couldn't keep their hard-on's under control.
Most of these guys had hit on me, at one point or another, while we worked together over the past few years. It always made me glad that Emma was around. She didn't take any shit from anyone. Whenever the guys got out of line with me, or with Kim, the most recent addition to the civilian side of the project, she put them back in their place. She was all business.
Of course, previously, the team had only been assembled for short periods. I hoped she could keep these guys under control for the months of isolation this would soon become.
It was a slow, deliberate pace. Every move was planned. It wasn't until after a week of tense observation that we even sent a team into the containment room.
Kim and Raif were sent in first. Kim was chosen because she was a skilled surgeon. Raif was sent in with her because of his background in physics and geology. The course of action had been dictated in a meeting the previous night. The two researchers would be sent in with equipment to pierce the outer shell of the pod.
“Take it slow and steady,” Emma cautioned, as Kim began to scrape the outer surface.
“I don't think I have much of a choice,” Kim responded in a muffled voice from the microphone in her helmet. The two researchers were in full isolation gear. They looked like astronauts, which I guess was appropriate, given the nature of our research.
On the monitors, we could see the view through Raif's camera. Kim wasn't kidding. The shell was difficult for her to cut through, even with the powerful drill they had chosen to begin with.
Finally, after a half hour of work, she broke through.
“What can you see?”
“Not much of anything,” answered Raif. He adjusted the camera so that the monitors would pick up the view. “The interior is solid, with a crystalline structure. There appears to be no movement whatsoever.”
I don't know quite what we expected, but it was definitely anticlimactic. The whole design of the pod seemed to the biologists on staff to suggest a function in transporting life over long distances. But where was the passenger?
My own first visit to the isolation room came the next day. My qualifications in organic chemistry were substantial. I lived this stuff. Nonetheless, on this visit, I was pretty much playing lab assistant to the civilian scientist, Kenny Wigman.
I carefully took a dozen little samples of the crystals, and delivered them to Kenny. He would grunt brief instructions through our communications gear, and then disappear into silence while he used each complex bit of equipment to examine the samples. Every once in a while, Emma's voice would appear in my headset. She communicated to each of us individually. I had no idea what she was asking Kenny, but I could hear the frustration in her voice when she talked to me.
“Ken's getting nowhere, Jamie,” she told me. “Why don't you take a turn?”
I waited a moment, trying not to seem overanxious, while Emma relayed her orders to Kenny. He grudgingly stepped back from the work station. I could see through his helmet that he was still protesting his removal. My ears were burning, as the saying goes. I was pretty sure Kenny was making some remarks to Emma about my qualifications, and I'll bet he wasn't throwing compliments around.
As much as I resented his attitude towards me, I had more important things on my mind. The equipment we had brought into the lab was state of the art, and allowed me to become absorbed in the amazing details of the samples, right down to the molecular level.
Only minutes later, Emma checked back on my progress. “Bottom line, kiddo, what's your feeling? Do you think it's life?”
I paused. I was lost in the complexity of the crystalline structures under my microscope. When I finally answered, I surprised even myself.
“Yes,” I told her, unequivocally.
Now it was her turn to pause. My headset went silent for a minute while Emma communicated my answer to everyone else. I wondered how Kenny would react.
“Are you sure?” she came back, more calmly than I would have guessed. “It seems that Ken still has his reservations. Hell, he just plain disagrees with you.”
“Why don't you tell him to…” I was getting a little mad at his attitude towards me.
“Tell him yourself. I'm putting us on three-way now.”
Kenny broke in mid sentence, “… none of the expected chemical bonds that would suggest a living organism. She doesn't know what the fu…”
“Hi Kenny,” I let him know I was on his comm.
“Okay, what do you see that makes you think it's life?” Emma asked, cutting through the ego battle.
“First of all,” I could barely keep my heart from leaping out of my chest as I spoke, “Kenny's right that these chemical bonds are not typical to life. I don't know how to explain this. They seem altogether too tight, too densely packed. The bonds are…”
“In English,” Emma warned. Her background was much more on communications science. Once we made contact, she was supposed to be our translator.
“It's difficult to describe. The chemical structures are packed together for stability. That's to be expected, with the kinds of stresses the pod would encounter in open space. The material is dense, and contains stable elements that wouldn't normally be associated with life.”
“She's just confirming what I already told you.” There was a bit of a gloat in Kenny's voice.
“But,” I continued, “I can see openings in the structure. They almost seem designed to fit like puzzle pieces into existing organic matter. That's just intuition at this point, but I'll bet that further tests support the idea. Most of all, the complex chemistry of the crystals make it able to store massive amounts of information. In the end, that's what life is…a way to pass on information, and I'm betting that this is life.”
Kenny didn't argue back at the moment, but when we all gathered in the conference room later in the evening, I could see that he was ready to jump on some way to discredit my idea. The whole team was there. Emma took control of the meeting, of course.
The guys dominated the table. Mark Burrows sat with his laptop across the table from me. Raif seemed to have latched onto Kim after their first trip into the isolation room, not that she appreciated the honour of his company. Kenny took the end opposite Emma. Peter Valdez and Mike Hayek were anthropologists. They sat on my side of the table.
At the end of the table, three stone-faced security experts sat in silence. They didn't have much to say about the science of our project, but they each reported to their own departments daily with risk assessments. So far, they had allowed Emma and I to make the decisions, but that could change in a heartbeat.
“Maybe Jamie has some sort of special insight the rest of us lack,” began Kenny, “but I don't see how she would come to such a rash conclusion.”
“Maybe I spoke too quickly,” I admitted. “But that's my gut feeling about it. Every time I look at it, it seems to make more sense to me.”
“Far be it from me to question 'women's intuition' as a valid scientific technique,” quipped Mark, from behind the glow of his lap-top, “but it seems to me we might have a dud on our hands. It's landed on a habitable planet. What's it waiting for?”
“Another piece of the puzzle,” answered Kim quietly. She didn't usually speak up too much in our meetings.
“What?” Kenny asked, exasperated.
“I think Jamie's right. I've seen the slides. This thing is too complex to be anything other than life. Maybe nothing inside of it is organic on its own, but Jamie mentioned that there are openings in the pattern that might fit into known organic molecules. Maybe the reason that it hasn't done anything yet is that we've kept it in a sterile environment this whole time. ”
“We're getting ahead of ourselves here,” Emma cautioned. “We have a lot more study ahead of us before we have to draw any conclusions. This is an interesting possibility, though. Keep working on it, Jamie. Ken… give her all the help she needs.”
It would never surprise me that Kenny Wigman resented taking a secondary role in the research. No doubt he wanted my ideas to fall flat, but he couldn't dig too deeply into his position, because he might be proven wrong later.
He settled for a campaign of sarcasm about my methods. It got worse every meeting.
“First, Jamie makes this wild announcement that it's alive, but now that it comes time to prove it, she's stalling. If we're so damned impressed by her theory, why don't we test it?”
“I want to be cautious,” I tried to explain myself to everyone. “Early testing confirms that the chemical structures could possibly attach to a living organism, but we have no idea what would happen next. Exposing it to living DNA could be dangerous.”
“Of course we don't, know what'll happen,” chipped in Raif, our physicist. “And we won't know anything until we test it.”
I looked to Emma for support. She didn't meet my eyes.
“The truth is, I'm being pressed for answers.” Emma had been pushing the research hard in the last week, but I had no idea about the kind of pressure she was feeling from the upper brass. “We need to know if this is life or not. Right now, that's the most important thing. How do you suggest we proceed, Ken?”
I couldn't believe she was siding with Kenny on this one. He didn't try very hard to hide his gloating.
“As you know, I've been involved in crop research at the university. We hold some extremely stable strains of vegetables that would be prefect for such experimentation. We've collected precise measurements on growth rates and genotype characteristics of these plants. If the alleged alien affected them in any way, I'd be able to tell you.”
Emma bit her lower lip. I knew her too well. She was having reservations about the speed of this too. Nonetheless, she pressed on.
“If you had to choose one, which would it be?”
“For selfish reasons, I'd take the pumpkin. It can grow quite quickly from seed, and we'd have the results faster.”
“Hang on,” I finally argued. “Couldn't we begin with a less complex organism?”
Kenny rebutted quickly. “I can understand how Jamie would be reluctant to put her ideas to the test…”
“Enough. We'll begin with the test tomorrow, using a seed from Ken's recommended variety of pumpkin. If we get any reaction whatsoever, we'll reassess our options.”
So, for only the second time since the pod arrived, I climbed into an environment suit, and prepared to enter the dimly lit observation room. Kenny stood beside me.
This was a game to him. He just wanted to win. In a strange way, by pushing the research in his direction, he had already cornered me. If there was no reaction, he would call it proof that my ideas weren't valid. If, however, the single pumpkin seed we brought into the isolation room were to be altered in any way by contact with the crystals, he would take centre stage in evaluating the genetic effects.
For me, it wasn't about winning. To tell the truth, I was more scared than anything.
If what I was saying was true, this alien life was completely parasitic. On its own, it was sterile. Only when it came in contact with another organism would we see its nature.
The door to the air lock snapped closed behind us, and we were subjected to the standard disinfectant spray, and then evacuation of the air around us. Nothing was left to chance. The only life we wanted to expose was a single pumpkin seed, resting in a sealed package on our equipment cart.
“We'll set up the lighting equipment first,” Kenny explained, as if I had no clue about how to make a simple pumpkin seed grow to maturity. It was all basic hydroponics, for greater control. The sodium lamp was sealed, and the excess heat carried away through shielded ducting. The pumpkin seed was suspended in sterile mineral wool.
Nutrients would be provided by a dosing system that could be manipulated from outside of the chamber. Electrical conductivity and pH could be controlled down to the smallest margin of error. Once Kenny and I were finished, no one would need to enter the room during the growth cycle.
There was one last task. This was the one that made my stomach churn. Kenny knelt down and cut into the crystalline structure inside the pod with his scalpel. He only needed a little. He brought it to the hydroponic system, and deposited the scrapings into the mineral wool that was cradling the single seed.
A warning buzzed through my body. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was wrong.
I caught it too late. Through the clear portion of Kenny's helmet, I saw panic in his eyes.
He dropped the knife, and it clattered down against the side of the equipment cart.
“Oh fuck,” I swore into my headset. I didn't even need to look down. I knew the knife had punctured my suit. In fact, it had taken a bit of a bite into my leg as well, but that wasn't my concern at the time.
It was the protocol I was worried about. As far as Emma would be concerned, I was contaminated.
“Emma?”
Silence.
Emma wasn't talking to me. She was talking to Kenny. I knew what she would ask. Is there a breach?
Yes, he would answer. I could see his lips mouthing the words.
Panic set in.
“Jesus, Emma, speak to me,” I shouted into my headset. “Don't cut me off.”
“Stand by,” she told me, in a cold tone of voice. To her, I was a procedure now. I was a calculation of risk.
I didn't know her answer until Kenny began to back away towards the door.
“Jesus… fuck, don't do this to me Em,” I cried into my headset. “It's not bad. I don't think I've been exposed.”
“Stand by,” she repeated.
“Damn it, Emma,” I couldn't control my panic, “don't leave me here. Put me in isolation elsewhere. Don't leave me in here with that thing. Please…”
“Don't worry, Jamie. We're working on the problem right now.”
Liar. What the hell could she do? She was just stalling me while Kenny made his escape. And what did I do? I stood there dumbly, the knife resting inches from my foot. I stood there, calculating the same odds that Emma would be.
Until we knew what this thing was, I couldn't be let out. They would rather destroy the base than allow a potential threat of this magnitude to escape. With the metallic grinding of the air lock, Kenny was gone.
I did all that I could to deny my situation. I backed into the far corner of the room, pretending that I could still avoid being exposed. We all knew better.
I couldn't see back through the glass into the observation room. I was in darkness and silence, waiting for the jury verdict.
“Emma…” I tried my communicator.
No answer.
“Em?”
They would be in conference, deciding the next course of action. Only now, instead of being a part of the decision, I was a variable in the experiment. I sat against the wall, and held my hand tightly over the puncture in my environment suit.
“Please…” I cried into my comm. “Tell me something.”
I paused.
“Tell me it's going to be okay.”
They didn't even allow me the luxury of that lie now. There was only silence.
I cursed myself for becoming so emotional. I was an officer. My only concern should have been the mission. It wasn't so much a fear of dying. It was a fear of the unknown. It was fear itself, living in the shiny black shell of the alien pod. I tried my best to keep the tears from coming.
The digital time readout in my helmet advanced so very slowly. One hours… then two, while my peers decided what would happen in this room.
Then, just shy of three hours later, I got my answer. It didn't come through the static hiss of my communicator. It began as a flickering pinkish glow from the sodium lamp, as the gas began to turn to plasma. Then I could hear the dosing system beginning to feed nutrient rich water into the growth chamber.
Those were all the answers I needed, and I couldn't choke back the tears anymore. They had decided to continue the experiment, regardless of my presence. They were going to grow the alien hybrid with me in the room.
“Oh, God… no.”
But God wasn't listening. Neither was Emma.
It didn't matter that I was right. It didn't matter that Kenny was wrong. All that mattered was that it was me trapped on this side of the glass, and Kenny still had a place at the conference table. The expression on his face when he dropped the knife was burned into my memory. It transformed from his usual scornful glare, into pure panic. The great doctor had lost his scalpel…
… and it had cost me my life. In the isolation of the room, under the eerie glow if the sodium lamp, I found myself praying that I had been wrong about the pod.
The answer wasn't long in coming. It was almost like watching time-lapse photography, only there was none of the tell-tale jerky motion to reassure me that it was a trick of time. The cotyledon pair emerged from the oversized seed, and unfolded within hours, beginning to collect the energy of the high intensity lamp.
It should have taken days. The initial leaves were dark with chlorophyll, and remained there, perfectly positioned, like solar panels on a space station. The upward growth slowed for an hour, but it gave me no sense of relief. The root system was likely expanding to provide the water and nutrients to fuel further exploration.
“You guys can control this,” I talked to them as if they were listening. “Cut back the nutrients. Decrease the lighting. Do something. This is growing too quickly.”
The initial pair of round leaves gave way to the larger, characteristically webbed leaves of the cucurbit family. As the new leaves expanded, too quickly for belief, the vines and tendrils of the plant explored outwards. The thin tendrils found the edges of the growing chamber, and then climbed over them.
I found it hard to believe that such small scrapings of the alien crystals had endowed the pumpkin with such a growth imperative. The plant was exploring its surroundings with an efficiency I found difficult to comprehend, and it filled me with dread.
Was it looking for more life to assimilate? Was it looking for me ?
No, the answer became clear when one of the tiny tendrils found the pod, and growth all but stopped. Its primary goal was to find the remaining crystals, and for now, it was satisfied.
“Jamie?”
The click of my headset made me jump.
“Jamie… it's Kim,” she paused. What do you say to someone in my position? Alone. Betrayed. Angry.
“Kim …? Where's Emma. God damn it, let me speak to Emma.”
“She's in a meeting. She has been for hours. Some of the team is still here to monitor things, but the leadership is demanding answers.”
“Let me out of here. It's still not too late. I haven't been exposed. You would have seen something by now. Please, Kim…”
“You know I can't do that. Even if I thought it was safe, the security staff wouldn't allow it.”
“Then why the fuck are you talking to me? Just toying with your new lab rat?”
She paused again. Kim was always a soft spoken girl, and I knew she'd have trouble responding to my sarcasm. I didn't care. What did I have to lose?
“I've been monitoring your vital signs. Your heart rate hasn't stopped rising. Your breathing is irregular. I'm worried about you.”
“Fuck you,” was my only answer. If the environment suit weren't my only protection from the other resident of the room, I would have dismantled it just to rid myself of the sensors Kim was monitoring. I couldn't even put on a brave face. They could all see how panicked I was.
I felt so exposed.
In the following hours, the pumpkin plant grew at an unimaginable rate. The leaves all but blocked the pink-orange light of the sodium lamp, returning the room to its semi-gloom. The tendrils of the plant completely surrounded the alien pod. Whatever this oversized mass of plant matter was becoming, it now had access to the full compliment of genetic material transported by the pod.
The light timed out after eighteen hours. I held myself in the same position, in a corner of the room, feeling like a fly caught in a spider's web, and hoping that if I didn't struggle, it wouldn't find me.
My fear of the dark vines of the alien hybrid was compounded by the darkness, and by my weakness. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. My arms ached from holding my legs up against my body, and covering the small cut in my isolation suit with both hands.
The dark cycle would be six hours, and I wasn't sure I could keep sleep away for that amount of time.
My head nodded forward several times, but I think I caught myself before drifting off entirely. I would scan the room again in a panic, checking if any of the dark vines or tendrils had grown in this direction.
By the time our artificial morning dawned, my body was screaming for rest. My mouth was dry from anxiety and lack of water.
“We need to talk, Jamie.”
Emma. I couldn't see her through the glass on one side of the room, but I knew she was there. Finally.
“Em…” I croaked.
“Your vitals have calmed down a bit, but you won't last long without nourishment.”
“Water.”
“Yes. We can deliver sterilized water and some solid rations through the secondary isolation lock. But you're going to have to do something for me, Jamie.”
“Wha…?”
“I want the isolation suit.”
I shook my head. It was my only protection. My only hope.
“Think about it Jamie. The suit has already been breached. You can't take food or water without removing the helmet portion anyhow.”
“But, why? Why do you want it?” My voice was coming back.
The line went silent, as if she was conferring with the others for an answer. “I'd like to be able to see the extent of the breach. We'd also like to get a closer look at the injury to your leg.”
“You're lying to me, Em. You know the extent of my injuries better than I do. Just send in the water. I'll find a way to drink while minimizing my exposure.”
“No deal, Jamie. I need the suit…”
"… so that you can better observe?”
“Yes.”
“Observe what?”
I didn't give her a chance to explain what I already knew.
“To better observe what this alien will do to a human subject. Isn't that right, Emma? That was the decision, wasn't it. I'm a test subject now, and the isolation suit just gets in the way.”
No answer.
“Your next request was going to be that I keep the medical probes on,” I continued, “so that you can continue to collect physical data. Do I get to keep the headset too, so that you can get an audio of this, or should I take it off, so that you don't have to hear the sounds of my crying?”
Another conference about the answers.
“The medical probes are to stay in place. We'd like you to keep the communication gear too.”
I couldn't hold back my emotions any more. I wanted to be brave. I wanted to show everyone that I was a good soldier… that I still had the mission in mind. I just couldn't keep my tears back.
“Tell me one thing, Em, then I'll give you the gear,” I sniffled. “What's my military status now? What are they telling my parents?”
“I'm sorry, Jamie… they've already declared you KIA. The details will be classified, but you'll be given full military honours.”
I was already dead. All that was left was the funeral.
I gave up my isolation suit.
I could barely see the light of the sodium lamp any longer. A thousand watts of power was completely blocked out by the thick leaves of the pumpkin plant. I could hear the dosing system straining to provide enough water and nutrients to the hungry root system of the plant.
<Click>
Overhead halide lamps chased away the darkness of the room, and gave me a better view of the rapidly expanding vines. The entire growth chamber was filled with new growth. The alien pod was also covered in leaves and tendrils.
More energy for growing. That's what the overhead lamps were providing.
No doubt they had discussed that consequence at length before making the decision. The plant already took up around a quarter of the floor space of the room. Now, it would fill the rest.
I knew it would come. I just didn't expect it to happen this fast.
Kenny was probably delighted. Impatient for results, he would have wanted the halides on sooner. He couldn't wait to see what this thing was going to do to me.
The plant had begun something new at the dawning of its third day. It began to express sexual characteristics. In fact, while it had spent the previous days exploring the growth traits of the species, the alien intelligence now seemed absolutely obsessed with the reproductive capabilities of the plant Large yellow flowers began to open at every node.
Then, the flowers took on different sizes and colours, perhaps exploring some of the genetic material that lay dormant in the pumpkin's DNA.
At first, the flowers dropped away without result.
Then the fruits came. Without the aid of insect pollination, the plant simply pollinated the female flowers directly, growing male flowers adjacent to them. The fruits bore some resemblance to the standard pumpkin, but soon varied to represent an increasing variety of the gourd and squash families.
The thing was in sexual overdrive; not surprising, considering how much DNA in every living species on earth is devoted to sexual characteristics.
My own mind was preoccupied with other biological needs. I continued to deprive myself of sleep as much as I could. It was a good thing, too. I barely escaped the detection of some of the more adventurous tendrils of the plant.
In addition, I was reluctant to relieve my bladder in the present situation. I felt like such a lab rat. There was no privacy here.
When I finally had to break down and pee, my face went red. I was certain that one of my former colleagues was watching me through the window, squatting in a corner and piddling onto the floor. I hoped it wasn't Kenny or Mark. Those guys would really enjoy seeing me like that.
I felt so very exposed in every way. From the observation room, they watched me pace the floor in bare feet and a T-shirt. I had given up my outer clothing in trade for my second meal. The medical pack strapped to my shoulder sent them all of my vital signs.
I was a test animal. They controlled my surroundings. They controlled the lights, temperature, and humidity of my sterile cage. They controlled the growth rate of the alien hybrid by increasing light and nutrients. They carefully rationed my food and water intake.
I wonder who came up with the idea of drugging my water.
Kim? Emma? It didn't matter. I knew that I was drugged as soon as my tongue began to numb.
The drugs forced my surrender to the inevitable. The alien plant would find me. Everyone knew it. I dropped to my knees, allowing the water bottle to slip out of my hands. Television static began to close on the edges of my vision, while nausea took hold in my belly. Then I was gone.
It wasn't sleep. I didn't dream. I just disappeared from reality for enough time that the rapidly growing tendrils and vines of the pumpkin could find me.
… I don't know how much later…
… the static began to clear from my eyes, but the nausea remained for a while. I was laying on my back now, directly beneath the observation window. Emma couldn't have planned it any better.
My efforts to move were useless. The vines had grown over my arms and legs, and had strung themselves tightly around my throat. I could almost taste the chlorophyll in my mouth, and the distinctive musk of the pumpkin plant lingered in my nose. In the margins of my vision, I could see one of the bright yellow flowers of the plant opening itself in fast motion.
The power and beauty of this creature struck me for the first time.
It wasn't enough to dull my fears, however. I was sure that my colleagues were watching my heart rate and the conductivity of my skin with interest. They would be looking for signs that my DNA was being compromised by contact with the alien.
So was I.
Was I thinking differently? Did I feel any changes to my body ?
Not yet. Maybe.
There were little things. There were inappropriate little sensations of pleasure and pain, tingling through my body. A flush of warmth, and then a chill moved across the bare flesh of my stomach.
While the sensations began almost imperceptibly, as my time in the arms of the alien lengthened, the feelings began to consume me. It was probing me. Exploring me. It wasn't mapping my reactions from the outside, but from within. It was poking at the physical centres of my brain like a clumsy child.
“What's happening to you, Jamie? Your vitals are all over the map.”
The voice was Emma's. She hadn't talked to me since the previous day.
“Nothing. I'm just…” I winced, and my arm twitched involuntarily. “It's nothing. I just can't move… I'm scared…”
Why didn't I tell her that the alien was within me? There was no way that they would ever let me out of here anyhow. Maybe it was just spite that made me uncooperative. This woman had betrayed me. Why should I let her know what was going on?
"… I'm scared…” I repeated, only this time, it wasn't me. The alien was playing with my language centre, and generated the impulse to speak. Without knowing the meanings of them, it made me repeat those words two more times before losing interest, and exploring other dark corners of my brain.
On a biological level, I think I had an instinct about what was it was doing. Maybe it would have been easier for me if I didn't have any clue.
The hybrid was exploring me. It was assessing my usefulness, and deciding what it wanted to do with me. I could feel the tendrils of the pumpkin plant probing my body, gently at first, and then more insistently. It pinched and pulled at my flesh, all the while, sharing the sensations of pain and fear that the touching aroused. When the pain was too sharp, it pulled away for a moment, and then, like a cruel child, repeated the stimulus to see my reaction a second time.
“Can you move at all Jamie? Are those body movements voluntary ?”
“I don't know… I can't see… please…” I began to cry again.
The hybrid didn't allow our communication much longer. Its tendrils grew around the headset, and pulled away my last connection to the research team.
Was it reading my emotions too? Its hard to know at what point it became aware of them. Did it know the fear I felt? Did it feel my anger towards the observation team? Did it feel my humiliation as it grew under my T-shirt, and pulled at my nipples suggestively?
Or, at this point, did it only understand the raw feedback of my body? Hot, cold, pleasure, pain, hunger… so much hunger…
Hunger was something we had in common, the alien and I. It was the our fist bit of common ground, and after a few hours of toying with my body, it took a bit of pity on me.
A new vine extended downwards from the mass of the plant, and rested on my chin. Then, almost like one of its flower buds, the plant offered me an opening. It oozed with a sticky sap which I resisted at first, but the plant was insistent. It wanted the second-hand sensation of being filled. It forced the modified bud between my lips, and increased the flow of nectar.
The flavour was sickeningly sweet, and, of course, reminiscent of pumpkin pie. I swallowed reluctantly.
There is pleasure in fulfilling a long-aroused hunger. The alien eavesdropped on this feeling in my brain, and responded by increasing the flow of the thick nectar. It was enjoying this new sensation.
I thought of the way this must look from the observation room, the plant feeding me faster than I could swallow, and the excess fluid oozing down my cheeks. The syrup began to fill my belly, and the alien was intrigued with the sensation. It forced more of the sugary fluid into my throat while my little belly swelled and rounded beneath my T-shirt.
Only after I was groaning with discomfort did the alien let up. It withdrew its vine from my mouth slowly. I watched with disgust. I had no idea how much of the plant had forced its way down my throat, but the saliva covered tentacle measured more than eight inches, and dribbled excess nectar across my chin and throat as it pulled away.
Then, right on schedule, the surrounding tendrils went back to their cruel game of poking and prodding my body, now concentrating on jabbing my distended belly.
Only when the lights went out did the probing end. With my belly full, and my body aching, I wasn't able to keep my mind alert. Sleep took me, and I treated the alien to yet another new experience: dreams.
They were dreams of biology. DNA. Cell division. I dreamed of the strange relationship between the mitochondria, and the rest of the cell. It was an intruder too, long ago. Its DNA is distinct, like a separate species, living in each of our cells, but now completely reliant and indivisible.
My mind was stuck on mental images from a microscopic slide show. They were the kind of dark, heavy, obsessive dreams that my brain always generated when I had a flu or fever.
The alien was there, its arms around me, and even in the world of imagination, its leaves filtered the light, so that everything took on a dark green hue.
I wanted to vomit. I awoke with the urge several times, but the alien suppressed it. Even in this early, immature stage of its development, it held a greater control over my body than I had ever mastered.
Then I would fall back into my fevered dreams. Stem cells. Differentiation. Growth.
I couldn't tell you if the alien was deciphering my fear inspired dreams. Would it even understand the imagery? Perhaps not in the same way I did, but on an instinctive level, it was a master of organic chemistry.
When the sodium lamp finally buzzed back to life, I awoke to a new reality. Gone were the gourds and pumpkins which had littered the room with various shades of orange, yellow, and purple the previous day. Gone too were the magnificent flowers of the hybrid.
It had lost interest, I knew instinctively. It had explored the genetic variety of the pumpkin plant, and was finished. The leaves still lined up symmetrically beneath the halide and sodium lamps, tapping whatever energy source its captors would provide, but the alien was no longer satisfied playing with the simple genetics of the plant.
It wanted more. It wanted me.
Intelligent life was a much more interesting prospect to the alien, and from the first movement of its spiny tendrils, I knew that I was the centre of its attention now.
The horror of it hit me hard.
“Please, kill me. I'm already dead. Just kill me. “I don't know who I was begging to. To my colleagues. To the alien. To God.” Please…”
It listened. As if reading my thoughts, a new set of vines grew up over my face, wrapping themselves tightly around my mouth and nose. It pinched the air from my nostrils, and tightened around my chest.
Another sort of panic set in. It was really doing this. It was really killing me.
The survival imperative was impossible to fight. No matter how much I feared my situation, all of my thoughts disappeared into my struggle to breathe. With every ounce of strength in my body, I fought to free myself, but it held me there.
This is what you wanted…?
It taunted me. I could feel it inside of my head, tasting my fear, adrenaline, and pain.
“NNnnnnffff,” I tried to rescind my request as my body shook violently.
My lungs burned. I lost control of my bladder. Darkness began to invade my vision.
Please…
Then the sweet rush of oxygen flooded back into me. It released my nose, and fell away from my face, leaving me gasping to catch my breath. A minute more and…
… but it didn't want me dead. It just wanted to know what death was. It wanted to feel my biological reaction to the threat. I was foolish to think that it would let me die. I was its source of genetic material. It would reorganize my cells. It would attach itself to proteins, and discover each of their purposes.
It was doing those things instinctively, without a care about what the consequences were to me. It couldn't care. At its core, the alien was only information. Or perhaps a way of organizing information. It was just coldly executing its programming.
These conclusions came to me easily, and in a detached sort of way, it interested me. I wondered what it would be like when the alien understood my body well enough to begin using my brain. Or had it already? In a primitive way, I thought that I could understand its impulses. I was already a step ahead of it.
Just like it had done with the genes of the pumpkin, it was exploring me. Soon, I knew, inevitably, it would enter the stage of exploration I was dreading. It would want to know about the complex DNA governing human sexuality. It would want to know the full variety of the human sexual response, and like it had done with the pumpkin, it would dig deep into my genetics to find new material.
But first, another feeding.
The modified vine dropped downwards again from the mass of plant material, and drooled above my face. I didn't fight it this time. What would be the point? I allowed the thick vine to push its way into my mouth, and tasted the thick sugary nectar for a second time.
Only this time, it was different. It wasn't just the raw carbohydrate meal of the previous night. Now that the alien knew my genetics better, it had found away to synthesize some of the proteins necessary to my body. The liquid was stronger now, and my taste buds struggled to identify all of the flavours included in this cocktail. Unlike the previous evening, it didn't fill my belly. It gave me enough to sample the flavour, and then dislodged itself from my throat.
It allowed me a few minutes to digest before beginning its day of probing.
Just as I had feared, the plant now seemed intent on learning about my sexual functions. Instead of the poking and prodding of my flesh, and the odd contortions of my limbs, I could feel the tendrils of the hybrid circling their way up my thighs, and beneath the thin fabric of my underwear.
Despite myself, I looked towards the observation window in desperation. Who's shift would it be now? Would it be Mark Burrows, the lecherous MIT professor, who watched the plants initial explorations? Or would it be one of the anthropologists…Peter maybe. I hoped it wasn't Kim, or Emma, or especially Kenny.
I bit my lower lip to stifle my crying as the tendrils took hold of my panties. I could hear the material tearing away from my body. My T-shirt did last much longer as the pumpkin plant began to knead and squeeze my sensitive breasts. As if this new exposure weren't enough, the vines of the plant took a tighter hold around my ankles and knees, and repositioned me into the most humiliating pose.
It raised my ass a bit from the floor, and drew my ankles towards me, as if I were mounting the stirrups for some alien gynaecological exam. My ass and pussy were lewdly displayed for the observation window. Somewhere behind there, I knew, they would be recording every moment, for playback at tonight's meeting. I whimpered with embarrassment.
Still toying with physical centres of my brain, the alien imitated the sound, forcing me to whimper again, perhaps wondering if the high pitched noise was a part of the human sex ritual.
“Aaannnnnnng,” I found myself repeating the noise over and over, as its tendrils explored my exposed private areas.
First, the thin tendrils explored the area around my vagina, roughly caressing my labia and the tender flesh around my opening. It insistently spread the lips of my pussy while I struggled to tense the muscles of my thighs.
“Aaannnnnnnng, nnnnnnnff” my cry of embarrassment was replayed through my unwilling vocal chords.
Penetration. It wasn't a thick, full feeling, like the modified bud that the plant had forced into my mouth, but rather the feeling of several smaller tendrils entering me from different positions, like tiny fingers, probing my depths.
“Nnnng, aaaaaahhhhh” the alien was altering my cries now, playing me like a musical instrument. The sounds were pulled from my subconscious, and more closely resembled the sounds of pleasure that would accompany the physical act we were simulating.
Most shameful of all, as the thin tendrils filled me, and began to caress my pussy from within, I could feel the warmth of arousal rising within me. I tried to suppress it, but once the alien knew the feeling, it was hungry for more.
I can force you… don't fight…
I knew it could. Even through the horror of the situation, I knew that it could force me to enjoy every indecent violation of my body. It could make me, and if I struggled too hard, it would take complete control.
Don't fight…
“Nnnnnnnnn, fuck…me…” it pulled the words from my head without any understanding of their meaning. It was just taking whatever my artificially aroused imagination was providing.
The tendrils grew and thickened within me, filling me more completely than I had ever thought possible. At my entrance, the alien continued to explore the folds of my flesh, and took hold of my swollen clitoris as its newest toy.
“Aaaaaanghhh,” that cry escaped my lips without any urging from the pod. My face flushed red, and I shot an embarrassed glance at the observation window. Could they tell? Would they know it was real? Or would they even make a distinction?
It didn't matter. The hybrid was giving me no option. I tried to withdraw from the sensations of pleasure, but it warned me again…
I can force you…
So I allowed the feelings to grow. The shame and confusion of these feelings were far less frightening than allowing it full control of my body.
Then the images came. Like my dreams, they were shaded in the gloom of the pumpkin leaves, but I recognized them as my own fantasies instantly. The alien was drawing from my sexual imagination, and learning what would bring more pleasure.
It moved within me, but not in the weird, alien manner it had explored me with before. It took on the familiar rhythm of the human body, sliding back out of my body, and then pushing its thickened tendrils into me with a unified motion.
“Oh… god… yeah…nnnnnnnnnnfff… fuck… my… pussy,” I shuddered with each word. They too had come from my own mind, with only minor urgings from the pod.
The rape of my imagination was a more intense violation than what it was doing to my body. It was using my own mind against me, and pushing my pleasure to greater heights. Each time I tried to suppress it, it warned me again.
I can force you… allow it… don't fight…
My fevered imagination produced imagery that the alien was only too happy to reproduce in reality. The vine that the alien had fed me with descended again, but this time, there was no questioning its resemblance to the human body. It mimicked the idealized penis of my sexual imaginations, drooling a thin nectar across my swollen breasts and neck before finding its way to my lips again.
Even the taste of it, while still sweet, more closely matched the semen it was emulating. It rested there, on my lips, while the images in my head caught up. I closed my eyes.
There were hands everywhere on me. I was blindfolded, my hand tied above my head in leather straps. Yes, leather. The penis within me was huge, stretching my pussy around it. He ploughed my body slowly, his hips pushing against my spread thighs.
Yes, even that feeling was given to me. The hybrid would simulate all of the necessary details, while it eavesdropped on this scene my imagination was spinning.
A mouth was at my clitoris, teasing, pulling… but gently… yes, much more gently than that.
Gloved hands squeezed and caressed my nipples. I could barely keep track of all the sensations. Every sexual response in my body was heightened. My face was heated, my lips swelled with arousal, and resting on my lower lip was a second drooling cock, the pre-cum running across my lips, and down my cheeks.
Don't fight…
I opened my mouth for him. Coaxed. Begged with my tongue. This is what he wanted. If I did otherwise, he would punish me.
He slid his extraordinary length into my mouth, and past the tight ring of my throat. I could feel no gag reflex. The pod was allowing my fantasy to proceed without any of those physical inconveniences. He slid in and out, tickling my tonsils with the smooth flesh of his cock.
I couldn't believe that this was coming from my own imagination. I had never been… well, I had never known that I could be so excited by the idea of being tied down and sexually used by a group of men. It was nothing I had ever let enter my mind, except perhaps in moments of extreme arousal. In those moments, I had quickly purged the thoughts from my dark imaginings… but now the alien wouldn't let me. It was enjoying the shameful intensity of this scene far too much.
Inside of me, another of the tendrils had found my g-spot, and was teasing it mercilessly. It was all too much. My clit was aching for release. My tender breasts were sending shock waves of pleasure up my spine. My whole body squirmed and shuddered in the alien's grasp.
It didn't need to tell me not to fight now. I couldn't escape the sensations if I wanted to.
“Nnnff nnnff nnnff nnnff,” I groaned around the vine lodged in my throat. The intensity of the orgasm shook me loose from its control for a moment, and I enjoyed the violence of the moment alone. Every muscle in my frame tightened and quivered around the thick intruder. My legs, still held tightly by the ankles and knees, pumped against the mass of vines and leaves that was so thoroughly violating my body.
By the time the orgasm subsided, I was left gasping for breath through my nose as the pod once again took control.
Then, suddenly, the feeling was upon me again.
“Nnnnnnnnnnnnnngggfff !” I cried again, as the same intense orgasm tore through my exhausted body. I was unprepared for this one, and my lungs burned from the exertion. The alien was forcing this climax onto me, and I fought against it. Wave after wave of the uncontrollable sensations gripped the base of my brain. I thrashed against the too-intense sensations, and cried out against the swollen vine in my throat.
When my body finally finished this second orgasm, I could hardly breathe. The pod's instruments were still pushing into me from both ends, sending aftershocks through my over-stimulated flesh. Tears of desperation ran down my cheeks.
Please stop…
Didn't you enjoy it…?
The images were still coming, pulled unwillingly from memories I hadn't revisited since I shared a room with my younger sister in junior high. I could feel the hands of boys I hadn't seen in years, groping my body awkwardly in those first times we had made out. I could feel their teeth against my young breasts, and the cups of my bra pulled down uncomfortably in the haste to reach them.
The alien was re-enacting my earliest sexual experiences, and forcing all of the sensations that came with them onto my overused body. I whimpered for mercy, but there was none forthcoming.
It wanted to know about that first blow job I had given to a boy at my best friend's party, while he sat on the toilet. I never even knew his name. The alien dislodged itself from my throat, and rested its makeshift cock between my lips for the re-enactment. I gasped for breath, and choked out the thick syrup it had deposited in my mouth.
No… I'm tired…
Don't fight…
I remember the music of the party in the background. Somebody knocked on the bathroom door, but the boy I was with told whoever it was to fuck off. He was insistent too, and held my hair as he pulled my head forward.
Don't fight, I can force you… he seemed to be telling me, unless my memory was being toyed with. I was too drunk to resist.
I accepted him between my lips, and despite the fatigue of my body, I felt the excitement of sexual exploration gripping me. This is what it had felt like, my hands on the cold porcelain of the toilet as I tasted male flesh for the first time. It surprised me how thick and rubbery it felt in my mouth.
“That's a good girl,” he told me.
The world moved around me, shaking me from the fantasy for a moment. In the real life gloom of the containment room, the vines were repositioning my body to match the scene in my head. My knees touched the hard concrete of the floor, and the hands of the hybrid plant posed me kneeling, the artificial cock slanting upward in front of me.
Continue…
…as if I had a choice. It could learn everything it wanted without allowing me the illusion of control, but it was an illusion I was desperate to hold onto. I let the feelings grip my body again, closed my eyes, and sunk my head forward to please my imaginary sex partner.
Every detail of the scene came back to me, with much more accuracy than I had ever given my memory credit for. He pushed down on the back of my head insistently, and one of my plastic barrettes dropped to the bathroom floor. My gag reflex returned to me with a vengeance, and I choked and sputtered in a most undignified manner against the base of his cock.
I could feel the alien exploring the emotional context of the situation too. I felt so dirty, kneeling there in front of the toilet for some older boy I had met only a couple of hours before. I thought about what my girlfriends would think of me afterwards. Oh yes, they would find out. People always found out about things like this. I felt both excited and ashamed, and the cocktail intoxicated me much more than the alcohol that I had siphoned from my friends' drinks.
He came without warning, filling my mouth with his bitter load. I let it escape my lips, and it ran down the base of his cock onto the plastic toilet seat. Then he was gone, leaving me there stunned, with a string of cum and saliva connecting my lower lip with the toilet seat. A girl walked in to use the washroom…
…I was so ashamed…
But then she was gone too, and there was only me, in the limitless gloom of the containment room, with the alien's thick nectar drooling from my chin. Finally, the alien pod ceded to my exhaustion, and allowed me to slump onto the floor.
It still held me by the ankles and wrists… but that didn't really matter, did it? It had its grip on something much more fundamental inside of me. Oddly, I didn't find that very disconcerting. Or maybe I was just too tired to care.
I was awaken twice more that day to play the pod's sexual games. Stolen memories and fantasies were the scripts for these scenes, each more extreme than the last. The dark vines took on their roles, obscenely mimicking the human form in a fashion exaggerated by my own lusts.
Every moment was shameful. My mind was beyond the glass of the observation room, where I was certain, for some reason, that Kenny was watching my humiliating display. I cried. I begged. I tried to resist. In the end, though, I always came.
My orgasms were loud and intense, and my face burned with the knowledge that they were being recorded for later viewing by the entire staff.
The third time it woke me, it decided to play with my ass. I had been trying in vain to avoid those thoughts all day. I knew it was futile. Eventually, it would find every embarrassing fantasy I had ever entertained, and use my body to learn the feelings first-hand.
It held me by the scruff of the neck, and pushed forcefully onto my hands and knees. I grunted with the rough treatment. It held my exposed rear opening towards the glass of the observation room, instinctively knowing how this would heighten my humiliation and perverse arousal.
In this fantasy, I was in boot camp. It was a silly fucking fantasy. I don't know why it stuck with me over the years.
Rumours had spread around the base that one of the officers liked to get a little sexual action from the recruits. That part was true. When I had gone through boot camp, the other guys in my squad talked about it in hushed tones. They made jokes about it, and wondered which little 'faggot' was making visits to his office to get fucked in the ass.
Curiosity had always been a weakness of mine. I was tempted to learn if the rumours were true, but I never had the guts to try to find out.
Nonetheless, the fantasy lingered, and now, in the arms of the alien pod, I was being forced onto my knees, and I could feel its probing fingers at the entrance to my virgin ass.
“Is this what you wanted, bitch? Is that why you were spying on me? Did you want to see me fucking someone in the ass?” I could almost hear the imposing officer barking into my ear.
“N…no, sir… I just…”
“What's your name…?”
“Jamie, I mean…”
“All right, Jamie, if you're so goddamned curious, I'll show you what it's like.”
His thick finger pushed into me, and I squealed with surprise and discomfort. He still held me firmly by the back of the neck, and I was paralysed by his grip.
“Mmmmm, you're going to be a tight one… this is gonna be nice.”
I heard him unzipping his pants behind me. The alien was good a adding these little details to the scenes. I whimpered in anticipation of what I knew was going to happen next.
The thick, drooling cock that the alien had been using to feed me rubbed back and forth against my tight hole, lubricating me with its wetness. A strong vine slipped around my hip, and held me in place to have my ass raped.
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