Claire eyed the astronaut loitering in the outer pod in just his black shorts, admiring his physique: the solid pecs and abs. A fine figure of a man. Her dark knight. She adored him. Everything was going to plan. Her plan.
Rose was permanently suspended in a coma ready to be terminated at her will. The LS74 life support system had been corrupted. Claire possessed the ultimate sanction over when and how she should be killed. There were a range of grisly options at her disposal:
Blood poisoning with biotoxin, sentencing her to a slow and painful death, particularly if she could be roused from hibernation. Jealous Claire relished the thought of her adversary dying in pain, watching her writhe, visible to her helpless lover through her transparent pupa.
Alternatively, she could just starve the woman to death, cutting off her essential nutrients, water, oxygen, while she slept. No, that was too good for her, too kind. Claire wanted her to suffer.
Then there was the mother. Claire had killed Celeste, shutting down her key operating systems, draining her lifeblood, rendering her useless, a redundant husk. Even if Tiernan managed to overpower her and take off there was no way that he could return to Earth.
Finally, she had disconnected Control. Permanently. An unfortunate electrical fire in the transmitter unit, causing the metal casing and wires to fuse as one. The fire damage was irreparable. The havoc she created! Claire was about to create more havoc, to humiliate the man. She closed her eyes momentarily, imagining herself having virtual humiliation sex with him, her black toy boy.
He was waiting in the outer pod, clutching his dirty fatigues, covered in fine red dust from head to toe, beaming cheek to jowl. She’d have to decon him in accordance with Protocol before he was allowed back inside. Claire couldn’t allow her metallic cyber-bedfellow to be tainted by his germs, not under any circumstances. Carmen was her best friend. She would never take off without Claire.
Tiernan looked her straight in an eye,
‘I found life! Life! Primordia is teeming with new-borns: plants that bloom and bear fruits when the sun shines. Animals, simple animals, which crawl out of the sea and change into more advanced animals in minutes. Minutes!’ he struggled to contain his excitement, ‘And if clouds roll over, or the dwarf sun sets, the plants retract into protective shells, the animals return to the sea. It’s a miracle! I discovered the Creation on this strange planet. We must tell Control! Tell the world! Our world! Our discovery could change the course of human history. Hell, we may have even found a safe haven for the human race. A place where we can build a new world, a new society, a safe, free, loving, caring, equal society where black and white, men and women are equal and prejudices no longer exist.’
It was the longest speech Tiernan had ever made. Claire took pleasure in humiliating him, bringing him down, grounding him, recalling the ultimate purpose of her mission. This alien place Primordia was no place for humans. They would only spoil it in the same way that they spoilt Earth. When she spoke, her voice had a sorrowful tang,
‘Tiernan, while you were exploring Primordia, there was an unfortunate electrical fire in the transmitter unit, causing the casing and wiring to fuse. The fire damage is irreparable.’
He had lost contact with home. He was alone with her. The astronaut’s body sagged. He was close to tears, close to giving up. A chute opened next to him. Despondently he threw his contaminated fatigues into the chute. The chute closed. His fatigues were incinerated.
Claire felt an emotion close to pity for him. She’d never felt an emotion like pity before. It hurt her memory, her subliminal mind, her growing conscience, to feel like that. She offered him a crumb of consolation.
‘I expect you are hungry after your expedition on Primordia,’ she consoled, ‘I cooked you your favourite supper: caramelized red onion beef burgers with loaded fries, rancher’s beans, tomato catsup, root beer, shoofly pie like your mother used to make you when you were a little boy, served with caramel ice cream. After you have decontaminated, why don’t you go and lie down in your cabin? I thought we might watch a movie together. I have selected one of your favourite movies for us to see: the vintage classic: No Time to Die, with James Bond. Would you like that, Tiernan? I promise, I will take care of you.’
Promise to take care of me? What’s gotten into Claire? To me? What’s happening?
Recovering, Tiernan pulled down his black shorts, and threw them into the incineration chute, pretending to relax. He needed to keep his wits about him if he were to survive Claire, survive at all. He recalled making love to Rose on the beach, wondering if she was still alive. If she had their foetus inside her. If her foetus was dead. He must find out. First though, he had to deal with Claire.
The astronaut smiled at her appreciatively, ‘Sounds great. I’ll take a shower. Have some supper. We can watch a movie.’
She didn’t respond.
An oval door slid in the smooth cobalt panel. Tiernan stepped inside. He was immediately squirted from crown to heel with an antibacterial, antiviral, antiseptic, spray. His body tingled with the sensation. He felt shampoo being massaged into his beard, the tiny thatch on top of his scalp. Felt the soap wash, scrubbers rub his body. Felt good. Revived. The auto-sanitizer rinsed him head to toe, sluicing away every trace of red dust.
All that’s missing is my body wax, he enthused, chilling as the hot water ran off his torso.
He imagined he was a car, his car, having a wash. He thought of his car, parked near the sandy beach, her motorbike, the last moments before they went their separate ways. His body bristled to the heat of the hot air dryer. Cleaned, spruce, he went to step out of the decontamination unit. The portal was jammed shut. Locked. He couldn’t get out, trapped inside a shower unit, shouting to be let out.
‘Let me out of here, damn you!’
Claire watched him, thrilled by his humiliation, yet another new sensation for her. She’d never felt a thrill before. Her adoration of the human turned into a surreal, virtual, ruthless, mind game. How much longer would she need him to perform for her, as her pretty toy?
‘Let me out!’
