Page 7 of Capture of Capricorn

By now, she’d run through all kinds of theories as to its origin. Given its behavior, she’d come to the conclusion it wasn’t of Earthly origin, not something her science-loving butt—large and round from a diet of lattes and chocolate treats—would usually even contemplate. Zora did not believe in aliens. However, what other explanation could there be? Nothing affected it, and yet something obviously managed to shape it. No way it originated in nature to be so perfectly smooth and symmetrical. Then there was the fact its physical propertiesdidn’t match any of the known elements. Could it be some hybrid alloy no one knew about? Possible, but given how every single attempt to examine it more deeply failed, she doubted it. At least it didn’t appear to be dangerous. She remained healthy, if a few pounds lighter, given the lack of snacks and her well-balanced meals. Would it kill them to give her a greasy burger and fries?

Sigh. For some reason, she thought of the moment she first woke there. Lying on a thin foam mat, in a depressing concrete room that measured eight of her giant feet by eight. When Seeker419 had taunted her about the fact she’d not accepted his offer, she’d pounded on the locked door and had a complete and utter meltdown using language that no lady should ever utter.

“Listen up, motherfucker, you’d better let me out of this room or you will regret it when I shove my foot up your ass!’

Mama always said violence wasn’t the answer, but then again, Mama never dealt with Larry Finch at school. That boy was constantly teasing Zora, calling her names, yanking on her braids, until she turned around and decked him. Knocked out his two front teeth, gave him a black eye, and a healthy respect for girls who said no.

Problem with being good with her fists? She needed someone to use them on. Luckily, she’d gotten her chance a few hours after waking—pacing, worrying, cursing.

The door had opened, and Zora didn’t hesitate to act as someone entered. She launched herself and tackled, only to be promptly tasered into a quivering jelly mass that pissed herself on the floor.

Not one of her finer moments, and it resulted in punishment. She spent the next few days alone. Didn’t see or hear a soul. Her food came via a slot in the door that opened at the same interval each day. No books, no television, not even a deck of cardsmeant by day three, when the intercom crackled, she was ready to beg.

“Hello, Zora. Now that you’ve had time to reflect on your situation, are you prepared to listen and be rational?”

Nope. She instantly began to boil.“Listen to what? Your justification for kidnapping and locking me up?”

“That was not part of my initial plan. I simply wanted the artifact. I am curious. What motivated you to purchase it?”

“I’m a metalsmith and metallurgist. Weird shit like that interests me.”

“Have you run any tests?”

“With what? My home doesn’t have a lab, and the one I work at would fire my ass if I used their equipment for personal research.”

“What if you had access to a state-of-the-art laboratory where you could test to your heart’s content?”

“Is this some kind of fucked-up job interview, because I’m not interested.”

“Are you sure about that?”the voice queried.

“What’s in it for me?”Because her mama didn’t raise a dumb chick. If this person wanted to negotiate, then maybe she could bargain for her freedom.

“You get to keep your life.”

For some reason, the icy proposal didn’t have her telling him to fuck off, mostly because, in that moment, with a certainty of ninety-eight percent, she believed him.

He continued on as if he hadn’t threatened to kill her.

“When you first saw the relic, did you feel a connection to it?”

“What the fuck are you smoking? It’s just a metal ball.”

“Just?”he’d mocked.“We both know it’s much more than that.”

“Listen, you crazy fucker, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not interested. Let me out!”

“Only once you’ve cracked its secrets.”

A reply she’d not reacted well to; however, in the end, she had no choice. And so Zora ended up studying the sphere in the most modern lab she’d ever seen. Not that the fancy equipment helped. She’d yet to figure out what made the metal hunk special.

By her count, she’d been here two weeks. Two weeks of being forced to work for free for an asshole.

Zora spun in her chair, hoping for inspiration, and almost fell on the floor as the phone bolted to the wall—the old-fashioned kind with a handset attached to a cord and a plastic circle with numbers for dialing—rang. It had taken her aback the first time she saw it.

“What the fuck is this retro shit?”she’d asked when Mr. Crius, AKA Seeker419, had first given a tour of the lab—with her hands bound so she couldn’t damage his smug face.

“Given the delicate nature of our work, we are very stringent about technology. Hence why cellphones are left at reception and placed in a Faraday box to block signals, and none of our computers can access the internet. All communication is done in person or via our internal phone system.”Internal, as in no outside dialing.

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