Page 8 of Capture of Capricorn

As Crius gave her the tour, he detailed her new reality.“Do not think of trying to escape. You won’t get far. Nor should you bother asking for help. Everyone here is loyal to the company. And before you think you can somehow smuggle a message out, all employees are subjected to a thorough search before leaving the facility. Any questions?”

“When can I leave?”

“As mentioned before, when you solve the mystery of the relic.”

“Why me?”She hated that she sounded whiny.

“Because our last metallurgist had to be let go, and rather than interview someone new, why not conscript the person who found the relic we’ve been seeking? How fortuitous that you happened to blithely post about it.”

“As if you’d have actually paid me,”her sour reply.

“Initially, I’d planned to, but once I realized you specialized in metal, why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“Surely you can find someone higher up in my field.”

“Why bother when I have you?”He then went on to detail the tests he wanted run with the threat of,“And don’t think you can lie about the results. I’ll be watching, and any attempt to obfuscate will be punished.”

As were apparently any tantrums and random acts of rebellion, like holding up the flame from a torch against the sprinkler head, hoping to cause an emergency that would unlock the electronically controlled door.

It failed, and she got a taste of what Crius meant when he said cooperate or else. The laxative in her next meal had her curled in the fetal position for hours.

Given her lack of choices, she studied the fucking relic. Did everything Crius asked, even though nothing made a difference. In return, she received three healthy meals a day—so healthy she might kill for chocolate—got to sleep in a room with a real bed instead of a thin mat on a floor, and in the evening, when she was done for the day, could binge Netflix—and plot her escape. It wouldn’t be easy, between the locked doors, patrolling guards—who escorted her from room to lab—and the electronic monitoring bracelet that couldn’t be removed, Zora had yet to find a single crack in the security that she could exploit. But she wouldn’t give up.

The phone she’d answered hummed with static before Criusspoke.

“Zora, proceed to lab ten with the relic.”

“What for?”

“A new test.”

“Did you get that new plasma laser I was asking for?” Having run out of ideas, she’d been asking for new tools, things she could never dream of accessing in her old life but wasn’t a problem for Crius. The man had the funds and the pull to get her anything she wanted.

“It will be arriving next week. But hopefully we won’t need it by then. Please take the relic to lab ten.”

He said please, but she knew better than to fall for his politeness. Crius was a sadistic bastard. The laxative had only been the first of his tortures. She hung up the phone and sighed as she mentally prepped herself for the next test.

The door to her lab unlocked, and Zora scooped the relic under an arm and headed out into the corridor, a concrete space lit by harsh fluorescent lights and lined with locked doors with numbers painted on them. She worked in lab thirteen. Lab ten wasn’t far from hers. Still, she wondered what to expect. Last time she’d taken her metal football for a walk, they’d had her bring it to lab one, where they kept primates and rats. She’d been ordered to rub the orb against them. The dumbest test ever that achieved fuck all. Then there’d been an earlier excursion to lab three with strobing lights that kept changing hue. She’d left that room feeling utterly out of sorts and seeing bright dots for hours afterward.

Lab ten’s door clicked as she reached for the handle. Bloody people watching her every move on camera. She entered to find a space more suited to a hospital. Ultrasound machine, EKG monitor, IV poles lacking bags, a mechanized medical bed—and someone strapped to it.

She blinked. Yes, there was another person. A novelty after weeks alone with almost no human contact. If it weren’t forthe occasional footsteps in the hall, the grim-faced soldiers, and Crius’ voice, she’d wonder if the world outside still existed. Other than Crius, the only other human conversation she’d had was with a lab technician who’d been ordered to take blood and tissue samples from her. She’d tried questioning him and kept pestering despite his tight lips, which only parted to tell her to breathe deep and to not move while he poked. Her attempt to subvert led to her getting literal gruel for dinner that night.

The man strapped to the bed had a sheet pulled to his neck. Was he dead? His eyes were closed, but they opened as the door clicked shut. Brilliant blue, which offset his dark, oddly white-streaked hair and tanned skin. Tanned by sun, and not genetics like her.

“Hello there, gorgeous.” He offered a bright smile. “Here to take another sample? Were the liters of blood stolen by your coworker not enough?”

Someone sounded as salty as her. “I don’t do bodily fluids,” she replied with a grimace. Although she did like his use of the word gorgeous.

“Pity. I know what kind of sample I’d like to give you.”

Wrong time. Wrong guy. Wrong place. Tell that to her body, which flushed at his innuendo. “Not here for that, either.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Dunno. I was told to come.”

“I see. I don’t suppose you’d loosen my restraints. They’re awfully tight.”

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