Test Subject
Author
Tami
Reads
8.2M
Chapters
28
A New Life
Book 1: Test Subject #1
Carefully, I reach for the little frog I’m supposed to euthanize before my next test. He squirms and evades my grasp, like every other frog I’ve worked with.
Sadly, as a xenobiologist, this is a big part of my job, even if I don’t like it. I have to kill this poor bugger to get rid of him, because from a very objective point of view—all my research will never lead to anything important.
Sighing, I try again to catch the slippery fellow, and then suddenly he jumps directly onto the top of my hand. I freeze for a second. He’s looking at me directly, as if he understands what I’m going to do.
Gently, I turn my hand. The frog wanders along my palm, always looking at me.
“Hey, little guy,” I whisper, gently patting his tiny head. “I really don’t want to do this.”
Obviously, there’s no answer other than a croak. But it sounds so… pleading? I look over both my shoulders to see if anybody is watching. I’m alone.
I take out a box from a cupboard and cut some holes into the top, then put the little guy inside.
***
I’m heading back to work after smuggling the frog out to a park a few blocks away. He happily hopped away to freedom! My phone buzzes.
Unknown
Last night was AMAZING! Can’t wait to fuck you again. You’re one sick chick, I tell you that! SO HOT.
I sigh and delete the message. It was a one-night stand, but the guy didn’t understand. I’m not into relationships, or even friends with benefits.
At this point I’m starting to think I might be asexual—don’t get me wrong, I’m very interested in sex, but I never feel any pleasure doing it. Last night was no exception.
I keep looking for a guy who can fill me up for real. But I keep falling asleep still hungry. The only orgasms I’ve ever had have been from my own hands.
At lunch, my fellow xenobiologists won’t shut up about all their “great success” with their own latest experiments. Urgh.
“What about you, Catherine? Had any big breakthroughs lately?” asks Sam, a young colleague.
“Nah,” I say. “It feels like I’m not going anywhere with my work.”
“Well, maybe you’re just not catching management’s attention,” says another colleague, Jasmine. “Unlike Rachel. She was a striking beauty, and she got so much attention, it won her some super-secret promotion down in the lower levels for the real work. I guess she took the job, because she never returned.”
“What’s on the lower levels?” I ask. I didn’t even know this office had any lower levels.
“Nobody knows. But apparently, the big bosses are really putting their money into those projects.”
***
At the end of the day, my heels echo through the empty halls as I go to leave.
I flinch when I hear a booming voice behind me.
“Miss Woods?”
I turn around and see a security guy, wearing sunglasses—even though it’s dark outside—and a communication device in his ear.
“Mr. Sire wants to talk to you,” he says.. Mr. Sire? What kind of stupid name is that?
I nod and follow him to the elevator.
We start descending, and I feel a jolt of excitement. Looks like I’ll get to see those lower levels Jasmine was talking about. Then excitement turns to dread. Why me? Why now? Am I in trouble?
“So…who’s Mr. Sire?” I quietly ask.
The security guy looks at me in confusion. “Your boss,” he replies.
I widen my eyes. I have never heard of any “Mr. Sire,” and he’s certainly not my boss! My boss is Mr. Rudens. But I guess, maybe…Mr. Sire is Mr. Rudens’s boss?
I don’t say another thing until we reach the lowest floor. Very, very far below ground level. The doors slide open onto utter blackness.
I’m starting to panic, and I try to stay in the elevator, but the security guy grabs me by the arm.
I’m not even walking anymore; he just pulls me along, until we reach an ominous door. This whole floor is just one corridor, completely black, leading to one door.
“Go inside,” the guy barks at me. I nod, take a deep breath, and knock.
“Come in,” calls a soft voice from behind the door. I open it, go inside, and see…nothing. My eyes need a moment to adjust to the dark lighting in here.
I make out a single window at the back of the room—or, wait. No, that’s not a real window. It’s a TV screen, projecting a fake view of a starry sky.
In front of the “window” stands a man, very tall, easily three heads taller than I am, facing away from me.
“I am Mr. Sire. You will not have heard of me, but I am the owner of this facility,” he says, before fully turning around.
He’s lean but muscular, and very handsome. His features are sharp, but his gentle, dark-blue eyes gaze at me soft and warm. I can’t tell in this low light, but his hair is either black or a very dark brown.
“Have I done something wrong?” I ask as I sit. He smiles and sits down.
“On the contrary.I have been observing your work, and I am very pleased.
We have many xenobiologists here, but none have quite the same…inquisitiveness as you. I’ve seen you go above and beyond to learn about your test subjects. But you also treat them with kindness, and, I would say…pity?”
“More like compassion,” I correct. He nods, seeming satisfied with this.
“I have an offer for you. You will work down here,” he says, pointing to a door behind him I didn’t even notice before.
“You will have your own laboratory, your own funds, and your own schedule.
You will earn twice your salary. You’ll have access to the best health care, all paid for by the company. You will even be able to live in this estate if you choose, for free, with servants obeying your every wish.”
I blink a couple of times. This must be a joke. “Are you…mocking me?” I wonder aloud.
He raises his eyebrows. “I can triple your salary,” he suggests. Before I can even open my mouth to respond, he amends, “Okay, quadruple. Last offer.”
“That’s more than enough!” I exclaim. He smiles, nodding. “But…why?” I ask carefully. “Is it dangerous?”
“Your job has always been dangerous, Miss Woods.”
“Cat is okay,” I say.
He just keeps smiling. “A simple sting from a toxic insect or a bite from a venomous snake…and you’d be done for.” He leans over, folding his hands. “You didn’t seem to be bothered before. What has changed now?”
“Well…with an offer like this, there must be a catch.”
“Oh, that.” He waves his hand. “There is a…series of physical tests we have to run on you first, and some questions that might be uncomfortable for you.”
“Can I decline?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says. Then he leans in a little closer, adding, “But I have a feeling you won’t.”
He laughs, and the sound of it is warm and welcoming. I should feel wary of this mysterious boss I’ve never met, but for some reason he seems gentle.
It’s not really his appearance or his words. It’s something about his voice and his eyes that make me want to trust him immediately.
“Okay then,” I say..He nods, satisfied, then offers me his hand to help me up.
His skin feels cold. At a guess, he doesn’t get out in the sun much, considering the darkness down here. He drops my hand once I’m standing, and I find I miss the contact a little.
“Through here.” He presses his hand flat against the front of the door, and it swings open, I guess operated by some kind of handprint-sensing technology. I walk through and the door closes between us and vanishes, leaving only a blank, white stretch of wall.
What the…?
I turn away from the mysteriously vanished door and see a long, white corridor with many doors to both sides.
I go to the first door on my right and try the handle, but it won’t budge. There’s a gap at the top to look through, but I can’t reach it; it’s way too high. Was this made for giants?!
I gasp when I hear a sudden bang from behind one of the other doors. Glad that’s locked!
I keep walking down the hall to the very end. A sign above this final door says “Clinic,” so I knock and walk in.
A young man in a white lab coat is sitting at a computer opposite me. He smiles when he looks up and sees me.
“You must be Cat. I’m Richard.” He stands up. I notice that he is also very tall—he must be well over six feet. Still a bit smaller than the boss, though.
“I am. ” I say.
“I need to run the physical exam with you, but first I have some questions to ask.”
Still smiling, he points me in the direction of a standard hospital cot with a green sheet on top. I hop on and cross my hands in my lap.
“Do you have close family? Parents? Siblings?” he asks.
“No. My parents died, no siblings.”
“Good,” he says. It doesn’t seem good and I am a bit confused why he cares one way or another, but he just keeps going. “Any close personal relationships? Best friends, romantic relationships?”
“Neither.”
“Very well.”
“Do you have any physical illness, such as known liver impairments, kidney problems, anything like that?” he asks while he reads.
“I don’t.”
“Have you had sexual intercourse before?” he asks. I frown and don’t answer right away, so he looks up at me, his face open and warm. “These are standard questions required for this position and I need an answer. Have you had sexual intercourse before”
“That’s…weird.”
“Some xenobiotics might smell certain pheromones, which could impact your work,” he explains. I slowly nod. They have creatures down here that can smell virgins?!
“Well, I have had sex before,” I say. He looks down at the sheet of paper before him, crossing something off.
“What are your sexual preferences?”
“Umm…like…hetero or homo?” I wonder.
He chuckles, looking back up at me. “For example.”
“Well, quite open I guess.” I haven’t experimented with women much, but I’m not opposed to it.
“And what are your sexual limits?” he asks.
