Candidate (Selected Book 4) (2 page)

But I had 16 weeks of paid vacation -- 3 weeks of actual vacation the company owed me plus 13 more for my severance package. I could take a few days off.

Cookie was sitting on the floor, looking up at me, hoping I would share whatever it was I was eating. I looked down at her. She thumped her tail against the floor several times, her big, brown eyes working their magic on me.

I think perhaps that was the first time I appreciated my roommate's dog.

"I think I know what we both need, Cookie."

Her tail thumped a few more times. I knew what she thought she needed, but I was also pretty sure she'd be okay with my plan.

I headed for my bedroom, Cookie following me. On arrival, she promptly jumped up on my bed, which I hated, but before I could yell at her to get down, she plopped onto her stomach, her chin on her paws, and she looked at me through long, doggy lashes.

I didn't have the heart -- or energy -- to make her get down.

I changed into running clothes. I didn't actually go running that often. Let me alter that statement. I never went running. I biked. But I wasn't in the mood for a bike ride, and I couldn't take Cookie if I did. So I changed into running clothes then said the magic phrase.

"Cookie, want to go for a walk?"

Cookie was very good at expressing herself.

I'd never taken a dog for a walk before. I never had one growing up. Oh, I knew the principles. You grabbed the leash and attached it to the collar. That was easy. Then you stepped outside and told the dog to heel.

Well, that didn't work.

I've seen people take dogs for walks -- and runs. The dog follows along, glued to its master's left ankle.

Clearly Cookie didn't know the drill. She stayed glued to the end of the tightly extended leash, rushing from this point to that point, sniffing wildly before she was off in another direction, yanking my arm from the socket over and over.

"Heel, Cookie!" I said firmly. "Heel!"

Damned dog. Damned idiot human. What was I thinking?

And since when do girl dogs lift their leg to pee? Seriously?

I'd planned a long walk, but Cookie changed my mind. We walked three blocks in one direction, took two lefts, and walked back. Long before we returned home, Cookie was panting heavily, and my shoulder felt like it was going to need physical therapy.

Well, there was twenty minutes of my unwanted vacation gone.

I decided to clean.

* * * *

Lunch came and went. Cookie drooled all over my leg and the floor. I refused to reward such behavior.

I roamed the house for a while and decided my bedroom needed fresh paint. I found all my painting tools, identified what I might need that I didn't have, and then drove to the paint store.

An hour later I was back home.

An hour after that, I was almost done moving all the furniture into the spare bedroom. Cookie was in the back yard; I had gotten tired of her getting in my way as I moved back and forth, dragging furniture.

And the doorbell rang. I ignored it. It rang again about thirty seconds later, and again, twenty seconds after that.

"Damn it!" I yelled. "Fine."

I peeked out the side window. There were two people on my doorstep, a man and a woman. They were wearing some sort of uniform, and I wondered if I was going to need a lawyer after all.

"Damn it," I muttered.

I stepped to the door but blocked it with my foot as I opened it.

"What can I do for you?"

"Andromeda Hayes?" said the woman.

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

"May we come in, Ms. Hayes?"

"I don't think so. What is this about? Did someone die?"

"Nothing like that, Ms. Hayes," she replied. "We have a delivery for you." The man waved an official looking envelope. He had a computer tablet in his other hand. "We must verify your identity and then wait while you familiarize yourself with the contents."

I stared at the envelope. "Is that some sort of court summons?"

The two eyed each other, and then the woman said, "May we come in? It's blustery out here."

"Are you cops?"

"No, Ms. Hayes," said the man. "We're from The Bureau of Extraterrestrial Affairs."

"Excuse me?" I said. "What do you want?"

"We need to verify your identity," the woman said. "Then you will read the letter. We will verify you understand the contents. May we come in, Ms. Hayes?"

"I.D.," I said. I didn't have to ask twice. They both withdrew leather folders from inside their jackets, opened them, and held them out for me to see. On one side was a badge. The other side held a plastic identification. They looked just as official as when I'd been Tested six years ago. "Wait here," I said. "I'm going to get my cell phone."

"No, ma'am," said the man. "We can't let you do that."

"Excuse me?" I asked with an arched brow.

"Once we initiate contact, we must maintain contact," he said. "I'm sorry. We don't make the rules, but we follow them meticulously."

"I'm just getting my phone."

"If you invite us in and let us keep an eye on you," he said, "that's fine."

"I'm not letting you in until I verify those are real." I gestured to the badges.

"You can use my phone, Ms. Hayes," suggested the woman. She replaced her badge in her pocket and produced a phone. A moment later she handed it to me, unlocked. "Do you need the number?"

I studied her carefully. "What do the aliens want with me? I've already been Tested."

"Everything is in the letter," said the man. "Please, ma'am. Call in if you want."

I made a disgusted sound and handed the woman's phone back to her. "If I let you in, do you agree to step no further than the entryway? I am not giving permission to search my house."

"Ma'am," said the man, "Until we leave, you must remain in the same room as us. If you choose to leave the entry, we must go with you."

I made another disgusted sound. "This is not permission to search my home."

"We have no interest in searching your home, Ms. Hayes," said the woman.

"Fine," I said. I stepped back, holding the door open. The two stepped in, and I closed the door. We turned to each other.

"I was getting ready to paint," I said. "I'm having a really bad day. I lost my job today, on top of several other annoyances. Unless you're offering to help me move furniture, let's get this over with." I held out my hand for the envelope.

"We must verify your identity first, Ms. Hayes," said the woman.

The man activated the tablet, worked with it for a moment, then read off a variety of information. I verified everything, correcting some of his information along the way. He nodded. "We need to scan your eyes. Please look straight ahead." He held the tablet in front of my face as I looked straight at him. There wasn't a flash, just a click, and then he paused, watching the screen.

"Perfect," he said. "Thank you, Ms. Hayes. This is for you." He held out the envelope. "You must read it in our presence."

I took the envelope. In my hands, it even felt official. I flipped it over and found there was a tab I could pull to open it. I pulled the tab, tearing the flap from right to left, and withdrew the contents. It took only a few seconds to understand what it was.

"I've been Tested," I said. "Six years ago."

"Ms. Hayes," said the woman. "Sometimes the aliens Test someone more than once, especially after a major life change."

"Like getting fired?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Like getting fired. You know when they offer a human a job, it's nearly always immediately after Testing, even before you go home. Maybe they have a job for you."

"I lost my job this morning and they already know?"

"We don't know what they know," said the woman. "You should finish the letter."

I lowered my eyes and finished reading. "I have to make an appointment to begin no more than three days from now?" I said. I looked up. "I had two weeks last time." Neither of them responded. I finished the letter then looked at the rest of the material. There was a tri-fold brochure titled, "What to Expect During Your Testing." Another was titled, "Bureau of Extraterrestrial Affairs: Rules and Regulations."

I looked up at the two of them. "Three days."

"Ms. Hayes," said the man. "Could I ask a question?"

"You can ask."

"You lost your job this morning, and this afternoon you're getting ready to paint. Is that right?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I did that once. My position was eliminated. I got home, looked around the house, and decided to make a bunch of changes."

"I know that feeling."

"It's an attempt to take back control. Were you thinking of painting before this morning?"

I sighed. "No." Then I tapped fingers against the letter. "It seems I'm still not in control of my life."

"Perhaps you'd like to get this out of the way," he suggested. "Did you enjoy Testing last time?"

"You know, I was scared going in, but it wasn't bad." I frowned. "I didn't get to meet any aliens though."

"Almost no one does," he said. "It's the biggest complaint we hear, after the inconvenience of it in the first place. Agent Barker and I could help you move your furniture, and we can then bring you to the Testing Center yet this afternoon."

"Get it out of the way," said Agent Barker. "That's what I'd do."

"The alternative," said the man. He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out some sort of thick plastic ring. "We have to put a tracking collar on you."

"You're not serious."

"I'm afraid so. Regulations."

"They didn't do that last time."

"I know. Sometimes people freak out. You wouldn't believe the reactions we see."

"I'm not going to do anything like that," I said, staring at the tracking collar. "Where does that go?"

"Ankle."

I sighed. "I wouldn't suppose you'd help me paint, too."

"I don't think we have that kind of time," said Agent Barker. "But we'll help you put the furniture where you want it. It's not too heavy, is it?"

"No, but some of it's awkward for one." I stared at the tracking anklet for a minute, then looked down at the paperwork I was holding.

"Do you have children you are managing?" asked the man. "Or pets? Do you need time to make arrangements?"

"My roommate's dog is in the back yard," I said. "She was getting in the way. Are you afraid of dogs? I'll have to let her back inside before I can go."

"We love dogs," said the woman. "Let's see the furniture."

I nodded. I took us to the kitchen first, leaving the paperwork on the counter. The man looked out the window, his eyes finding Cookie, but then the two of them followed me to the bedrooms. "I was moving everything from there," I pointed, "to there."

"We can finish helping you move it," said the man. "Or we can move it all back. You may prefer things to feel familiar when you come home."

I sighed. "Let's put it back."

It took us about fifteen minutes. They both helped, and it was a lot easier with three of us than just one. When it was all back in place, I thanked them several times. I looked at the woman. "You're Agent Barker." Then I turned to the man. "I didn't get your name."

"Agent Park," he said.

"Well, Agents Barker and Park, thank you for your help."

"You're welcome, Ms. Hayes," said the woman. "Ready to go?"

"I can't go dressed like this!" I said with a gesture. "Not if it's a job interview."

"Do you remember your last testing?" she asked. "They're going to take your street clothes from you, anyway. Remember?"

"But-"

"When they offered me this job," said Agent Park, "I was still in the chair. Do you remember the chair?"

"Yeah," I said. "And those goggles."

"A visor," said the woman. "Everyone we work with was still in the chair when offered jobs."

"And we can't really let you out of our sight," said Agent Park. "But if you want to change clothes while I watch..."

"You're not serious."

"Regulations. Technically, we shouldn't even make that offer."

I made a disgusted sound. "Fine, fine. I have to let Cookie in and leave a note for my renter."

I wrote the note first, leaving it on the counter beside the paperwork. Then I let Cookie in. She was overjoyed to make new friends, and I was actually rather impressed. They didn't both do it at the same time, but they each knelt down and greeted the dog. It was Agent Barker who looked up and asked, "Your roommate will be home to take care of the dog, right?"

"Yeah. Normally I'm the one who would be home late. It's her dog, and she's a good mom."

"Perfect. Are you ready?"

Testing went very much like it did the first time. Agents Barker and Park escorted me into the Testing Center. The receptionist verified my identity then wrapped the band around my wrist. The agents escorted me to the next room, wished me luck, and departed. I changed clothes, and a few minutes later, another woman arrived. She set the visor in place and activated it, and then she escorted me to the medical facility.

It was there I encountered the first change from the last time. The woman was kind and seemed to know more about me than I would have preferred. She got me settled into the chair then said, "I understand you're having a bad day."

"You could say that."

"We have a wide variety of programs we can play during your medical exam," she said. "Most of them involve swimming with whales, or being a bird. Things like that. But sometimes we get people who are really upset and scared, and we have special programs to help them calm down. Do you know what you'd prefer?"

I thought for a moment. "You know, something calming might be nice."

"I like the thunderstorms," she said. "We have a bunch of different ones. Do you want to know my favorite?" I nodded, and she went on. "We have one that starts like a thunderstorm, and visually it remains that way, but it's music at the same time. It's really quite beautiful. It's not soothing, not exactly. But it's my favorite."

"What kind of music?"

"Um. I don't know what to call it. It's like the rain is landing on a variety of instruments, but it's done in a way it sounds like music."

"That sounds nice. Thank you."

It was beautiful.

* * * *

I was, the doctor said, quite healthy. Twenty minutes later I was in the hotel room, and a minute after that I was taking a long walk on a beach. Then there was a shower, and of course, my clothes were missing when I stepped out. I dried and headed for the chair.

I don't remember the rest.

* * * *

I woke slowly, very slowly. Well, I woke and dozed, woke and dozed, so I guess really I came to awareness slowly.

I sat up. I wasn't in the chair. I was in a room, a very boring room. But the aliens hadn't offered me a job. I slumped for a moment. I still needed a job.

I looked down. I was naked. I'd gone into the chair naked, and now I was here. I looked around, and I saw the undies and sports bra I'd worn under my painting clothes. I grabbed them and put them on.

I was sitting on a soft bench against the wall. I might have called it a bed, but there were no pillows and no bedding. But one end of the cushion was raised slightly, and there was still a small indentation marking where my head had been.

The walls were plain. They looked like grey plastic, I suppose. At one end of the room I saw a sink embedded in the wall and what I discovered was a toilet.

The other end of the room was glass. Outside my room was a corridor, and on the other side I saw more rooms like the one I was in. I dashed to the wall, slamming against it, my hands spread.

There were other women in the other rooms. I could see one directly across from me. She was sitting on her own bench, her back against the wall, her knees tucked up. She was staring straight ahead. The cell to the right held another woman. She was pressed against the glass, looking at me. The cell to the left of the one across from me held another woman, but I could only see a portion of her. It looked like she was sleeping.

From what I could tell, they were all in sleepwear. The one watching me was in pajamas and a robe. The other two weren't wearing a lot more than I was.

I was in... I was in... I was in a jail cell?

Why were we all nearly naked? Where were the orange jumpers? And what had I done to land in jail?

The aliens had tricked me. I'd gone from Testing to jail. But this didn't look like a human jail. Was it an alien jail?

I pounded on the glass, yelling. The one woman watched me, but no one seemed to react. Then the woman held up a hand, and I stopped pounding. Then she pounded, and it looked like she yelled.

I didn't hear so much as a peep.

She only did it for a few seconds, but it was enough. I couldn't hear her, so she probably couldn't hear me, either.

Then we looked at each other, and after a moment she pointed up and -- for her -- forward. I followed the gesture, trying to look up and out of the cell.

That was when I realized the ceiling of my cell was also clear glass. We were in some sort of large room, the ceiling high above us. I followed the woman's gesture further, and I saw some sort of catwalk around the perimeter of what would be the second floor.

And then I stared.

There were four aliens clustered together, looking down into the room.

I stared. And I stared. I'd never seen an alien in the flesh.

Two of them saw me looking and returned my gaze. They looked male, but they were aliens. Who could tell? One was big and covered in a remarkable amount of fur. The other was nearly as big and I didn't see even a hint of hair.

There were males looking at me while I was in my underthings. And they were probably looking while I slept, naked. The thought made my blood boil, and I made a rude gesture.

If they recognized it for what it was, they offered no evidence.

I turned back to the woman. She'd left the window and was sitting on her own bed, staring straight ahead.

I made another rude gesture to the aliens, kicked the wall several times, and then stomped back to my own bed.

It took about three minutes to get really bored. It took another minute and a half before I started crying.

I hate crying. I really hate crying. I hate it when other people do it, but I really hate it when I do it.

But I couldn't help it.

What was happening to me?

* * * *

It was quite some time later that there was a noise to my right. There was an opening in the wall, and I saw a tray waiting for me. Then there were three dings, and a nondescript, genderless voice said, "Lunch is waiting."

I stared at the tray for a while before getting up to retrieve the food. I brought it back to the bed and sat down. I was expecting what could be described as prison food, so what I found was a surprise.

There were covers over the plates. When I lifted things away, I found what appeared to be a healthy meal of chicken breast in a cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts. I know most people hate sprouts, but I loved them. I stared at the food for a while.

There was also a cup and silverware.

Everything was made of the same material. It was a little like plastic, but I could tell it wasn't. But it wasn't ceramic or glass, either. I wasn't sure what it was.

I set the tray aside, grabbed the cup, and retrieved water from the dispenser.

Lunch was actually rather delicious. It was the best prison food I'd ever had.

Yes, that was me, attempting to make a joke of the situation.

I finished and wasn't sure what to do with everything. I finally decided if the aliens could deliver food like it came from one of those food dispensers in Star Trek, they could take it back that way, too. I slipped the tray back into the nook in the wall, and a moment later, the door closed. The wall turned into a blank wall again, and I couldn't have told you there'd been an opening there. There wasn't so much as a hairline crack left behind.

I went back to my bed, pulled my knees up, and stared ahead, just like some of the other women were doing.

* * * *

It was some time later. I couldn't have told you how long. I'd had to make use of the toilet -- and believe me, I wasn't happy doing that with an audience, but what choice did I have? But I'd been back on the bed, staring ahead for some time when I saw motion out of the corner of my eye. I snapped my head towards the doorway. I saw two guards -- human women -- escorting another woman between them. Her hands were cuffed in front of her. She wore shackles on her ankles. And she was wearing a visor like the kind in the testing center.

I ran to the glass and began pounding on it, but if anyone noticed, they didn't do so much as look my direction. I watched the two guards lead the prisoner away.

After that, I paid a little more attention to what happened outside my cell. It remained boring most of the time, but periodically, guards escorted a woman one direction or another. Sometimes there were two guards; sometimes there were four. The times there were four, I could see the woman struggling with them.

Apparently none of us was happy to be here.

Even the guards looked unhappy.

No one reacted whenever I pounded on the glass.

That got boring, and I stopped paying attention.

I did, however, seethe.

* * * *

I don't know how long I sat in that cell, but then the disembodied voice said, "Mating Candidate Andromeda Hayes, remain seated on the bed until directed otherwise. Failure to follow directions will result in punishment."

There was a pause, and then motion from the door. I snapped my head to look, and there were four guards outside my cell: two men, two women. They paused, and then while I watched, an opening formed in the glass. The two men stepped in followed by the women. The four of them looked at me.

"What the fuck is going on?" I snarled. But I remained where I was.

"Ms. Hayes," said one of the women. "We are here to escort you to someone who can answer your questions. Will you cooperate?"

"Am I accused of some crime?"

"The only questions we can answer relate to how we are about to treat you. Will you cooperate, or are we obligated to apply force?"

I sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"We will be removing you from your cell and taking you somewhere," she said. "Your choice is to cooperate or fight. The only difference is whether you maintain your dignity."

"What dignity?" I asked. "I'm in my underwear while aliens -- and you two men -- stare at me."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hayes," said the woman. "Will you cooperate? Or will we use force?"

I looked between them. They were watching me carefully, all four of them very alert, and I had no illusions regarding my ability to either overpower them or slip past them.

"Cooperate," I said.

"Good answer," she said. "You will stand, facing away, with your feet shoulder width apart and your fingers laced together on the top of your head. Please move slowly, Ms. Hayes."

"You know who I am."

"We know your name and we know where we've been told to bring you. We know you arrived since our last shift."

"You know where we are."

"Yes, but we won't answer that sort of question. Please slowly stand up and turn to face the back wall, Ms. Hayes."

I did what I was told, lacing my fingers together and setting them on top of my head. "You're awfully polite for people violating my rights," I said.

"I was wondering when she'd mention her rights," muttered one of the men. "That took longer than most."

"About average," said the other man. "And some never say a word."

"If you're done talking about me..."

The two women stepped forward. "Do not fight us, Ms. Hayes." This was the other one. Then she knelt down behind me, and I felt her wrap something around my right ankle. When I looked down, I saw she had shackles like I'd seen on the other women. She finished with my ankles and stood up. They shackled my wrists with my hands still in place, but these shackles had tails, so to speak.

"Lower your hands to your stomach," she said. Once I did, they collected the tails, wrapping them around my waist and locking them behind my back. That was when she said, "We've got her."

"Right," said the one who had first muttered about rights. I turned my head and watched the two men depart the cell and walk away.

"Eyes forward, please," said the first woman.

I snapped back to face the wall, but didn't say anything.

"We have a hood," she said. "Some of the women begin to panic. Are you claustrophobic?"

"No, but will I be able to breathe?"

"Yes. It is mildly stifling, but it's not too bad. We've all worn everything during training."

"I won't panic, but will you please tell me why I'm here."

"We can't answer questions like that," she replied. "You will need to take small steps. If you try to take long steps, you'll trip. We'll hold you by the arms, but if you surprise us, we might not catch you before you fall."

I understand.

It was the other one with the hood. She slipped it over the back of my head and then lowered it slowly over my face. I began breathing rapidly and tried to calm down.

"You'll be able to breathe," said the second woman. "I'm sorry, but I have to tighten it. You'll still be able to breathe." Then she did something, and it grew snug around my neck, but they were right. I could breathe, even if it was all very frightening.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice catching.