Seduced By The Alien (7 page)

Chapter 4

The next day, she woke up and explored. The hallways and rooms were all neat and incredibly uniform. The architecture was strange, with no corners or right angles.

Large veined tubes ran in a crisscross pattern along the walls, almost pulsating as though they breathed. Or they had a heartbeat.

Each room had computers with displays of an entirely unfamiliar language to it. The floors were all light, instead of the ceiling, yet somehow it helped her see instead of made it worse. Eventually, she found her way through a hallway and into a tall, wide building.

There at the far end was a table and Rock moving back and forth along it as though arranging items in a specific order. As she got closer, she found he had provided her with all the food she could possibly eat in a day.

There were sliced fruits arranged in a decorative fashion, cooked meat, vegetables, eggs, cheese, and any number of other things. It was incredible.

Always calling her fat, her stepfather restricted the amount of food she could eat as well as what type. Just looking at all of this on the table made her ache.

“Do you see something you like? I don’t know your tastes yet, so I decided to err on the side of too much rather than too little. I can get more.”

“No, no,” she said quickly, “it all looks so delicious.”

“You are pleased?”

She looked to him and said clearly, “I’m very pleased. Thank you for all of your trouble.”

In a single breath, she saw him puff up happily with pride. At the side she saw a collection of different oats, grains, and rice, and she gagged to the point of nearly vomiting.

“That,” she said pointing, “I don’t want. All he made me eat was oatmeal and rice cakes. The whole time sitting there eating bacon and laughing at me.”

In a swift brush of his arm, Rock leaned over and swept that whole section of the table onto the floor away from her.

Gloria laughed and had to hold onto the table to steady herself.

“You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve just taken it back to the kitchen.”

“Kitchen?”

“Yeah. Or wherever you keep all the food.”

“It is replicated.”

“Replicated?” she asked.

This was fascinating, but she was also starving and there was far too much food here for her to ignore. She moved to the plate he’d set aside and began picking out fruit and meat.

“Yes, our technology rapidly recreates the fibrous structure of your foods. It adds the necessary chemicals for taste and color.”

“So, wait,” she said as she picked up a red succulent looking piece of melon.

“This isn’t real watermelon?”

“Only your mind could know the difference. Your body does not.”

“Only my mind? Because I know it’s not?”

“Correct.”

Curious as to how accurate this machine of his was, she popped the piece in her mouth and chewed. The juice escaped her fingers and ran in a single line down her chin as the flavor nearly exploded in her mouth.

Months of eating nothing but bland oats and rice cakes, the taste of watermelon was exquisite. If this wasn’t real, she couldn’t tell the difference.

“It’s delicious.”

“As it’s meant to be. The multi-nutritional fibers all of the food is constructed of ensures you receive the balance of nutrients your body needs regardless of what you eat.”

“Wait, regardless of what I eat? So, I’d be getting vitamin C from eating that watermelon?”

“Yes. Or this slice of ham. Or that egg. Or this piece of lettuce.”

“What about protein? Is there protein in that chocolate cake?”

“Yes. As well as vitamin D, minerals, correct amounts of sodium.”

“What about sugar and saturated fats?”

“Only the healthful amount you need in a meal.”

“So I can eat as much of anything I want, and get all the benefits as though I ate a healthy balanced meal?”

“Yes.”

For just a moment she was tempted to dump the plate off to the floor like Rock had done with the oats and rice, but she stopped.

She could eat as much cake as she wanted, but what happened after? What happened if she ate and ate until she didn’t like cake anymore?

Just because she could didn’t necessarily mean she should. Besides, there was all of this delicious food to choose from. For the first time in her life, she had variety to choose from.

The best idea, the most selfish one, was actually to hold off on overeating on all the bad things. She’d have a lot more joy for far longer if she spread out what she ate.

So, instead, she kept the food she’d taken and started taking bites out of everything. Of whatever she ate, it was the best she’d ever had.

There was no such thing as a bad berry here, or a tough, fatty piece of meat unless it was meant to be that way. Each flavor was beyond anything she’d ever had.

After a while, she noticed he was also grazing along the table, eating pieces of this and that.

“Does this have the same nutritional value for you as well?” she asked him.

“It does,” he said.

“My body requires the same fuel as your own.”

“In studying our planet, have you learned of our issues with starving countries?”

“Yes. It is heartbreaking to witness.”

“With these replication machines, does your planet suffer any kind of starvation?”

“No. They are wildly popular. The machines all function the same, much like your toasters. The only great variety are the number of dials and how much food you can produce at once. The function is fairly universal across the board.”

Gloria looked out at the spread of food on the table.

“It’s funny you should say that, because toast is the one thing missing.”

“Did I not?” he asked suddenly and scanned the top of the table.

“I shall rectify. Please wait here.”

Gloria laughed and reached out to grab his shirt.

“I was kidding, it’s fine. I don’t need any toast.”

“But you are correct. It is missing.”

“It is, but you don’t always have to have every option available. Sometimes it’s nice to just make the best of what you have. Sometimes having too many options can be daunting.”

“You are not displeased with me?”

“No, I am not displeased. I had simply been making an observation. Please, continue eating. I’m enjoying our conversation.”

He nodded, but the way he did it, she suspected he would’ve smiled if he were the type to do such a thing.

“Do your people ever laugh?”

“I’ve seen you humans do such a thing. No, we do not express our joy in such a way.”

“Never? Do you have jokes?”

“We do, but far different from what you would consider humorous.”

“Aw, I want to hear one.”

Rock shook his head. “You will not find it funny.”

“Maybe not, but I’m trying to get to know you. It might be helpful to understand the sorts of things you find funny.”

“Your logic is sound. Very well.”

Gloria grinned and clapped her hands excitedly. When he started talking, she put another piece of melon in her mouth and savored it sweetness of it.

“To put it into a formula you can understand, what do you get when a nuvarian corpuscle dissects at an inverted pace?”

Gloria swallowed the melon, bit her upper lip, and slowly shook her head.

“I have no idea.”

“Quantum dimensional teleportation.”

“You’re right,” Gloria said slowly, “I don’t get it at all.”

Rock shrugged a shoulder and moved a piece of meat around his plate with his finger.

“To explain it, I would need to educate you on a rudimentary understanding of the seventh dimensional physical shift.”

“Naturally,” she said as casually as she could manage.

Chapter 5

From there, the conversation turned less scientific and more about who Rock was as a person and his purpose here on Earth. To him, Earthlings were very emotional creatures.

Though he understood emotion, the people of Earth come across as very dramatic or, as he called it, “soft.” To his people, the fluctuation of mood due to emotions felt very unstable and unpredictable.

Gloria did her best to explain that that was the whole point, that life was an adventure, but he could not understand. He knew that this was how humans felt, but could not himself feel the same way.

For Gloria, this explained why he was so dead set on the concept of their destined lives together. For him, there was no question. They were soulmates. Period. Still, that didn’t give her a lot of confidence in the match-up.

The days stretched on. Rock learned her tastes in food, and Gloria discovered that he actually had preferences as well. No matter how he tried to preach that any of the food was acceptable, she noticed he picked at certain foods more often than others, and some he avoided outright.

When she pointed this out, he denied any meaning of it. It was as though he wanted to stay separate from her, even as he was slowly becoming more like her.

Despite their differences, conversation came easy. She didn’t have to struggle to find subjects for them to discuss. Anything was a topic, and they could talk about it at length and at ease. When the time came to switch subjects, they did so effortlessly.

In all her life, it’d never been easier to talk with someone. They walked along the beach, traveling the entire circumference of the small island, talking for hours on end about absolutely nothing at all.

When the days drew to a close and she became tired, she actually regretted having to leave him. As she lie in bed and slowly drifted to sleep, she thought of him, of his eyes, of his mouth.

She imagined what he would look like if he smiled, and on one surprising occasion, even wondered what his mouth would feel like to kiss. Would it be alien, or would it be just like the food where only her mind would know there was any difference at all?

When she woke up the next morning, he would be the first thing she would think about.

Was he already up? What was he doing at that moment?

It took no effort for her to think this way; it was naturally where mind went. As she dressed each morning, she thought about things they could talk about.

Each day, she’d think she would have to start the conversation, but every time when she entered the room, he would bombard her with questions, clearly just as excited to talk to her as she was to talk to him.

They discussed his research on humans, and now that he had a real live one beside him they were able to compare notes to how it actually felt to be human. This was a topic of conversation between them fairly often, and one day, she realized exactly what it was she needed to do.

“My people are physically driven,” he said.

“Our muscles, hormones, and mind physically drive our bodies. Our moods, as you would consider them, are directly tied to the health of our bodies.”

“I understand, but what I’ve been saying is that humans are as well, but our chemical make-up is translated in our brain differently. Our moods aren’t some mysterious cosmic force dictating our every movement. They’re chemical reactions interpreted by our brains.”

“But if this is so,” he said, looking as frustrated as she’d ever seen him, “then why is it you can act with such powerful compassion one instant and such vehement violence the next?”

“A mother will kiss her child on the head in a show of affection unheard of on our planet, and yet will turn around and do very real physical harm to any person seeking to damage that child.”

“Of course she would,” Gloria shouted.

“Who wouldn’t protect their baby?”

“But if you’re aware that danger is near, how can you stand to be compassionate in the same instance? The chemicals in your brain should demand one reaction or the other, not both.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive. It’s all a web, Rock. Don’t you see? The mother’s violent reaction to danger is directly related to her compassion for the child. You couldn’t have one without the other.”

“That makes no sense. Genetically the mother is tied to the child. She is forced to protect it.”

“Incorrect. A mother that does not care about her child is a mother that would do nothing to protect it. Compassion, love, these are our most powerful emotions because of everything that comes with them. When we feel so emotionally strong toward someone, we would be willing to do almost anything for them. Some people are actually willing to do anything at all.”

“I do not understand. You state it is not some cosmic force, and yet you behave with such complexity. I cannot follow your reasoning.”

“All right,” she said, and took a deep breath. This was something she thought a lot about lately, and now seemed as good a time as any.

“How about I put it another way?”

“Very well,” he said.

That was one thing she had come to truly appreciate about him. He could discuss. He could have a conversation.

He never needed to argue or to be right, but he loved talking things through until he accepted they would never agree, or one side was convinced of the others logic. This time, however, she knew she was going to win.

Stepping forward, she picked up his hand and placed it on her breast. The sensation sent a shock of excitement through her and she couldn’t stop herself from shivering under his touch, despite the fact she was the one that had put his hand there.

“How does this make you feel?”

“Confused,” he said slowly.

“And?”

“Excited.”

“You feel both. And if you think about it, what are these two emotions tied to?”

He opened his mouth, but then stopped. His eyes fell to her breast and he slowly began fondling her.

“My initial reaction was to say love, but I realize now it comes from hope.”

“Hope?” she asked, trying to not close her eyes and lose herself to the pleasure of his touch.

“Hope of what this means. You’re allowing me to touch you. I hope… I hope that you’ve come… that you…”

“You’re afraid to say it?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“You’re afraid?”

He stepped closer and placed his other hand on her other breast.

“Becoming less so by the moment.”

Gloria moaned softly and placed her hands on top of his.

“And all of these emotions, they’re tied to one single one, spreading out, mmm, from it like a web.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes, I see. Love. All of my feelings come from love. Excitement you may love me as well, for I love you. Afraid I’m wrong, because I love you and cannot stand the thought of you not feeling the same.”

“Yes,” she moaned and grabbed at his shirt.

“And your love, does it not make you feel something else for me. Touching me, does it…”

The heat between her legs was growing like a wildfire, spreading throughout her in a rush.

“Arousal,” he said.

“I’ve never been so.”

“Rock,” she breathed. “I know you swore to never touch me until I was willing.”

“I did,” he said, his voice a deep gravel.

“I’m willing. Take me.”