4. One Good Deed
FOUR
ONE GOOD DEED
Vivian
He spoke to me. He told me his name.
Syasku.
Why? I don’t want to know his name. I don’t want to know anything about him except for what can suppress my fever. Twisting my fingers together, I bring them to my mouth.
I know why.
I apologized in some lamentable attempt to relieve myself of guilt. It was stupid of me, but we were alone and he looked horrifying. The wounds inflicted upon him had barely begun to heal and his pain meds had depleted; the reek of his blood was making my stomach churn with nausea. I forgot to give him more before his numbing agent wore off.
After he told me to stop, I should’ve left and alerted Ursula.
Instead, I remained and took away his pain.
Ursula is cruel, like Father, especially to those who stand in her way. If I don’t do what she says, she’ll make my miserable life even more miserable. The painkillers will be in the naga’s body all shift, and if she finds out that I’ve wasted her time, there’s going to be hell to pay. There are cameras in the labs, and I know everything that happened was caught on them. I expect someone will watch the footage back and alert Ursula as soon as it’s discovered.
Lowering my face into my hands, I palm my eyes.
It’s cruel to inflict pain upon another to avoid it yourself. I know this. But I’ve been protecting myself for so long, I don’t know how to stop. I glance at the locked door of my office again. It’s only a matter of time before someone comes to fetch me.
I should be in the laboratory with Muffin and the others, but no matter how hard I try to suppress my fever, it’s only worsening. Remaining calm and collected has been working for me, and right now I’m anything but calm or collected. Instead, I’m hiding, anticipating the worst. Either way, the naga’s deep, rumbling voice is now in my head, repeating his name again and again, heightening my nerves.
Why did he have to speak to me?
Even if no one watches the footage back, Ursula will know something happened.
My soles click across the floor as I pace around my office and my panic builds.
Grabbing a wad of tissues, I pat the sweat on my brow and face and check my appearance with a hand mirror. Settling into my chair, I smooth out my hair. Except every curl is cinched tightly, dampened by perspiration, and the loose strands frizz outward, making it look like a chaotic halo around my head and shoulders.
I was not blessed with any of my mother’s fair genes. Whereas her hair is smooth and blonde, mine is thick, curly, and brown.
Everything about the way I look comes from my father. All of his children take after him, legitimate and illegitimate alike. His controlling, narcissistic nature had to have come from somewhere.
There’s a brief, loud knock before my office door swings open, and the man himself appears on the other side. I jolt from my chair as my breath escapes me, straightening as he steps into the small space of my dimly lit room.
“Father,” I greet him, pretending I’m fine. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
His face is unreadable as he stops at the edge of my desk and assesses me.
At barely five feet, three inches, I’m tiny compared to his six-and-a-half-foot frame. My height is the only thing that didn’t come from him. All of my half-siblings are tall except me. The Volps are known for their height and darker features, and with my father’s slick jet-black hair and lusciously warm complexion, his symmetrical, gentlemanly features… women flock to him, never taking a moment to consider if the man underneath is a good one.
He tips his chin. “You’ve made progress with the alien.”
“Dr. Ursula is adept at getting results. I have learned much under her tutelage.”
“It’s not Ursula who has gotten a reaction out of him. It’s you.”
God. He knows.
It’s been an hour, and he already knows.
I eye him, nervous. Father rarely addresses me anymore, and rarer still makes the trip across the ship to do so. I don’t think he’s ever come to my office. I’ve only ever seen him in Ursula’s laboratory, and those occasions were rare until recently.
But if he already knows about the naga speaking to me, then he’s either been told or he’s seen the footage for himself.
As my mind races to come up with a reply, the door opens again, this time without a knock preceding it, and Ursula steps through. “Supreme Commander Volp,” she addresses Father formally, saluting him. “This meeting would be better in my office.”
“I agree—” I quip.
He puts up his hand. “I’m not staying.” He levels his gaze back on me, and I can feel Ursula’s cold eyes following, spearing me through with ice. “Tomorrow’s session. I want Vivian to conduct it.”
“Yes.” Ursula nods. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I will be in attendance,” he adds.
My skin burns hotter.
“Very good, sir,” she responds.
With both sets of eyes shifting to me, Father finally ushers the threat I’ve been waiting for. “Your mother has always been a disappointment, Vivian. Not only because of her disloyalty to me but to her own species. She is a criminal and has committed treason. I know you eased the alien’s pain. In doing so, you’ve disappointed me, daughter. You are too like Laura for your own good.” He scans me up and down. “I had hoped your patriotism would be something others could look up to, something that would set you apart from your siblings. You are lucky the naga gave you his name. If he had not, you would have been sent back to your studies. I am tired of waiting for results.”
“I am nothing like her,” I snap. But I wouldn’t know if I am or not.
Laura Yulen refused to acknowledge my existence, and now that she’s gone Father’s anger has been incensed. He hates it when he loses control of a situation. And with the capture of… Syasku, and me being Ursula’s assistant, he’s since retaken notice of me.
For years I’ve floated under his radar. For years I was nothing more than an afterthought. Only having to send him a monthly report of my progress in cracking Yulen’s DNA coding, reports I’m certain he never reads. Now he’s paying me visits in my office.
“You are more like her than you know, my dear. Ursula—” he says, dismissing me to face her.
Nausea bends my stomach, but arguing with him will only make things worse, so I hold in my discomfort, and my relief, as his attention shifts away.
I won’t be punished. Not yet at least. Father almost seems proud that the risk I took benefits him.
“—have you procured the subject?” he asks.
I pause on his words. Subject?
“I have, sir.”
“Good. Walk with me.” He strides out of my office, and without another glance my way, Ursula follows him.
The door closes, and I’m alone once more.
I lock the door and strip off my uniform jacket, moving back to my desk to drop down into the chair. Refurbished to oblivion, the padding still has a little cushioning left to comfort me. Chugging the last of my water, I down two more fever suppressants.
Throughout it all, my body trembles, and the pressure between my legs intensifies. Fisting my hands, I wait until it passes, trying hard—really hard—not to seek out Syasku and check up on him. He would be with Ursula right now if she decides to move forward despite the extra pain medicine I’ve given him.
Not sure I can handle any more blood today, or his gaze on me, I remain at my desk and finish up paperwork.
A couple hours later, I’m back at my apartment downing a sleeping pill and pulling out my tablet to do a deeper dive on the years leading up to Earth’s demise.
I won’t think about… Syasku or what’s going to happen tomorrow.
Not tonight.
Father’s visit was enough to jolt some sense back into me. My fever is just that—a fever. I haven’t caught anything strange from the alien. It had to be a coincidence and stress. Everyone else around me has been exposed to him, and no one else has gotten sick. At least not that I know of, and I’ve been watching. Either I’m the only one or everyone else is better at hiding it than me.
And the more I think about it, the uncomfortable arousal I’ve been feeling since Syasku’s arrival could be psychosomatic. If I’m aroused, it’s a hormonal issue, or a pent-up one, and nothing to do with him. I’ve made no effort in pursuing someone, even if it was for a single night just to get it out of my system. I’m afraid of catching feelings and having Father use them against me.
If things were different, I’d pursue a sexual relationship. But like my DNA, my life was laid out the moment my egg took in surrogacy. Thankfully I’m not particularly fond of others, and so self-satisfaction has always been an easy choice for me.
At least until lately.
Switching from Earth’s history, I scroll through Muffin’s notes on today’s session and our most conclusive discoveries. Syasku’s cells continue to regenerate outside of his body regardless of the environment they’re in, but only for a short time, and separating and isolating them continues to fail. I keep scrolling.
My finger pauses on the last data segment.
The samples taken today smelled like… grass.
My nose wrinkles, reminded of his scent. Dirt, moist and fresh, but dirt nonetheless, and grass can only grow in dirt. There’s very little dirt on The Dreadnaut outside of the few green areas. It’s not a common scent in space. I can’t recall the smell of grass. It’s been too long since I visited a green area.
Staring at the word, the sleeping pill hits. Grass and dirt and a world without walls are my last thoughts before sleep pulls me under.