Galactic Energies (18 page)

As dusk fell, he wandered through the dark stone corridors and halls, through the libraries and large salons full of tapestries, objects, relics, paintings and frescoes that recounted thousands of years of the planet's history. The scenes were often infused with incredible violence and ferocity. The art was both frightening and fascinating. That evening, the Captain headed towards a circular room whose ceiling was supported by towering columns positioned a few yards away from the walls. Above, ancient Vlaolian legends were painted across the ceiling. The Captain had been studying this ceiling for weeks, and had returned to examine a few details.

A barely audible voice hissed through the air.

“I didn't know earthlings were interested in our culture. Yet somehow I doubt that you understand it.”

Arcot looked around him. He was using a flashlight to illuminate the scene that interested him. He directed it towards where he thought the voice was coming from, but saw nothing but the dark shadows of the high columns soaring from floor to ceiling.

He remained waiting, motionless.

“Very good. That was the correct choice. Don't move, don't breathe, don't even think about calling for help. A vampire can kill you before the breath even leaves your throat,” the voice continued, this time a little higher.

It was a woman's voice, now easier to identify. A dark shape appeared in the shadow between two columns a few feet away from him. His flashlight had stopped working, which didn't surprise him, since he understood the telekinetic powers of the Vlaolians. The Captain sensed who was standing in front of him.

“Your Queen has trained you very well. I asked around and learned that you've become her little trinket. The Queen seems to enjoy you, you're her plaything, and I doubt she'd be willing to give up your precious earth blood now. Oh, I can only imagine how greedily she pounces upon you, feeding until she's full. You know, it's a whim that only she can indulge. The Vlaolians are not permitted the luxury of feeding upon the delicious blood of inhabitants from planets such as your own. As many other worlds have learned to limit their hunger for war, battle and violence, Vlaolia has learned to control its own thirst for blood. We pretend to be, as you would say, vegetarians, but it's rather difficult for a vampire to live without blood. The Queen knows this and loves to show what royal power allows, what a common Vlaolian cannot have. It's part of our culture of submission. I'm sure you've enjoyed the Queen's attention. If you want to know the truth, she forced you to become her servant through a telepathic trick, and merely pays you a little attention now and then because she knows she can only keep you here if you want to be here.”

Arcot could now make out the slender figure of Princess Icolia slowly moving towards him through the shadow.

“Princess, there are emotions that exist on Earth that you, perhaps, understand and experience differently. Earthlings fall in love, sometimes with beings from other worlds. When this happens, we know that we may have to accept local customs and cultures. We don't need to be swayed by telepathy in order to fall in love. Love simply happens, and when we fall in love, we live for who we love, and we're willing to do so underwater or in the clouds or in barren and inhospitable lands...or in chains, as is my case,” Arcot responded.

“Earthling love, what a curious emotion! For us, you're just pets or, at best, a nice container of warm blood. We might find it pleasant to keep you around and have a taste of your precious blood from time to time. I'm going to ask the Queen again to give you to me as a gift, to let me take you to Mashrin. If you support my request, you can play any role you want in our city. I'll give you the freedom you once used to have. But if you really want to cultivate your love for a fascinating vampire, perhaps the Queen is not the only interesting creature you'll find on this planet,” the Princess said, moving provocatively towards the Captain.

Arcot felt the telepathic pressure on his mind and body. Icolia's words penetrated his being as if they were orders, absolute and indisputable. He was lost in her voice, swimming in a desire to be closer to her, overwhelmed by her beauty and the sweet feeling of abandoning himself to her will.

“Princess Icolia, I belong to the Queen: I'm what she wants me to be. I live to satisfy her. If she only looks at me once a day, I live every second waiting for that moment,” Arcot retorted.

“Pathetic little earth animal, what makes you think you can refuse the attention of a Vlaolian princess?” Before Arcot saw her move, Icolia was at his side. He felt her strength overpower him. He couldn't put up the slightest resistance. He was forced to bend backwards, his head tilted so that his neck was exposed. He tried with all of his strength to escape, yet was unable to move so much as a millimeter. The Princess placed her teeth on his neck, waiting, foretasting the moment. Her mind fed on the pure terror coming out of him that he himself tried to stifle with all of his physical and mental energy. She began to pierce through the skin on his neck. The Captain's thoughts and feelings inebriated her as she felt the blood flowing into her mouth, as her own thoughts left her. She could only feel pure pleasure, ecstasy. She drank slowly. Yet something rattled around the edges of her mind: she knew she shouldn't kill him, or else the Queen would never forgive her. It would be her downfall. She continued drinking and tried to keep track of Arcot's vital conditions. His heart still beat, even though his pulse was becoming weaker. She should have stopped after a few moments, moved her mouth away from the earthling's body. But she continued drinking, nourishing herself as she floated in a state of ecstasy. She braced herself and forced herself to pull away. Good, the Captain was still alive. She gently lifted him over her shoulder and brought him back to his room.

6

The Mashrinians were masters of manipulation among all types of living beings. Princess Icolia laid Arcot down on his bed. He was still alive, though unconscious, incredibly pale, his heartbeat barely perceptible. The Princess left him alone on the bed, then returned with a few concoctions she had quickly prepared. She brought the first glass to his lips, made him drink a few drops and he immediately woke up, startled, his eyes wide with terror. She motioned for him to keep quiet and not say anything. Icolia spread a few ointments on him that would hide his pallor, then treated and disguised the wound on his neck. Finally, she spoke.

“Earthling, you're my prey now. I've covered up your wounds and the traces of what I've done. You must not under any circumstances divulge what just happened. I can reach you anywhere. You're mine, now. I can kill you without you even realizing it. When I return to the royal palace, I'll come back to feed on you whenever I wish. If you really don't want to be anything but a servant, you'll be a servant, even for those who you do not choose to serve. Remember, not a word to anyone about our little secret. What I just gave you will conceal everything, and not even the Queen will be able to sense what has happened. Don't think about it, and nobody will suspect anything. I'll apply a mental block so that these memories will be difficult to trace, even if they remain inside of you. The fear, however, will not leave you, nor the terror of last night. It will come back to you in your dreams,” the Princess said.

Arcot knew he was under her power, but wanted to limit how deeply she invaded his mind.

“As you wish, Princess,” he replied.

“Excellent, my little slave. I think I can trust you. You seem to have servitude in your blood,” Icolia said.

“Princess, I will wait for your return and I will do as you please,” the Captain added.

Icolia tasted her triumph: she was ruining the Queen's little hobby. She sensed the earthling was gradually falling under her power. If not this time, the next time he would follow her to Mashrin and the sovereign would never be able to oppose the will of a free earthling citizen. Matings between different yet compatible species in the Galaxy had always fascinated her. Now, however, she needed to leave, since the night was almost over and, at daybreak, the absence of both would be noticed. The Princess turned and left the room.

The Captain also wanted to leave. Thoughts and movements seemed more difficult than usual. He looked in the mirror. He was the same as he was when normally healthy, not how he looked whenever he had to heal after the Queen's bites. He knew that he was exhausted, that he didn't have any physical or mental energy left, yet whatever the Princess had given him permitted him to move and speak naturally.

He left his room and headed towards the throne room. He passed the study where the map of the galaxy was located and saw Queen Vril absorbed in studying the macroeconomic data of two worlds Arcot knew she wanted to start new business negotiations with.

“Come, Arcot, we need to get back to work on Miosi and Sublis. From what we saw yesterday, I think that...” the Queen stopped, staring at Captain Arcot.

Neither of the two spoke. She silently scrutinized the earthling's face. He tried to guess what she might be thinking, but not a single emotion showed through the Queen's face. He feared that she could sense what had happened. He also knew that the feeling of dread, uncontrollable within himself, would help the sovereign understand. The dread transformed into terror. Yet deep down, he felt he might be closer than ever to his dream. There was just one way to stop Vril's inspection. The Captain bit his forearm until it bled.

In the blink of an eye, the Queen leapt and pounced upon his neck. He felt her firm grip as his blood started to flow. It was impossible to escape. But the Captain didn't want to run away. After having fed Princess Icolia, losing the little blood the Queen had taken would kill him. Vril was in ecstasy, feeding. Yet she sensed that something was different. The deep bond that unites a vampire to its prey had changed. His blood seemed to have stopped flowing, so she braced herself and forced herself to remove her mouth from his wound. She examined him closely.

How was this possible? Losing such a small amount of blood wouldn't kill an earthling. He had seemed as healthy as usual and, if he had been sick, she would have immediately sensed it. But he was there, immobile, in her arms. She gently laid him down on the ground and waited, silently. Several minutes passed, then hours: nothing happened, but the Queen remained at the side of her dead earthling servant. Captain Arcot's body was as frozen as the stone he laid upon.

After almost half a day, one finger twitched. He turned his head slightly. The wounds on his body began to heal. He bit his lips.

“Q-Q-Q-Queen...”

Vril bent over to listen to his weak voice.

“Q-queen, for-give-me,” Arcot managed to say slowly.

Arcot the vampire opened his completely white eyes. The Queen's face still didn't show any emotion.

“Tell me what happened,” the Queen ordered.

“Princess Icolia fed upon me and then disguised it all, on my body and in my mind. I know I should have told you everything, but I want to stay by your side. I want to be like you. I don't want my body to grow old, I don't ever want to lose you. I wanted to be transformed into a vampire and I wanted you to do it, but I knew that you never would have done it,” he explained.

“You gave up your life.” Arcot saw a veil of sadness flit across the Queen's face for a fraction of a second. Then she got up and kicked the vampire's immortal body, cracking the stone he slammed up against. With a swift leap she was upon him. She began punching him. He stayed immobile in the corner, between the floor and the wall. The Queen continued attacking him, kicking and punching. Arcot didn't try to defend himself, his vampire's body didn't give in, but the stone behind him did. The Queen picked up one of the shards that had fallen from the wall and used it to disfigure the vampire's body. She sunk it again and again into the depths of his flesh until she felt satisfied. She stopped. She kneeled down at his side. She took his head in her hands and brought it into her lap. One glance from her and the wounds on his skin began to heal.

Arcot struggled to open his eyes and saw the Queen's face lowered towards his. He closed his eyelids again and felt her lips upon him. Happiness flooded through his entire being.

The Perfect Family

“Aurelia, would it be alright if I stopped massaging you? We can go back to it later, if you let me. I would like your permission to make you dinner now.”

Aurelia Lunatti raised her head from the massage table to look at her masseur. The better he got to know her body, the more his technique improved.

“Of course, Carlo.” She didn't say anything else, anticipating his next question as her mouth watered.

“How about a Niçoise salad with trofie pasta and pesto, or would you prefer duck à la orange?” Carlo asked.

Aurelia bit her lower lip, possessed by a mischievous idea. “You know, I'd actually like a nice big pizza!” she exclaimed.

“What a great idea! But please bear in mind, I'll need twenty-four minutes to get the ingredients from the closest grocery store, then fifty-six minutes to prepare the dough and let it rise...”

“No need to go on, don't worry, I understand: the pizza will be ready in an hour and a half. Go ahead!”

Carlo came towards her and kissed her tenderly. Then he headed towards the front door, opened it and went out to do the shopping. Aurelia laid out on the sofa and smiled.

She really didn't know why she had waited so long to buy Carlo. She usually spent her lunch break with her coworker Valentina, who would go on and on every day about how her robot had changed her life. Aurelia was, at first, entirely skeptical.
How could a machine replace a real man?
But, coming out of yet another failed relationship, she had made up her mind: she wanted one for herself!

Carlo announced his return even before she saw him come in, just so he wouldn't surprise her. He walked into the living room and, before continuing on to the kitchen, came towards her for another tender kiss, shopping bags still in hand.

Muscular and tall, with blue eyes and long hair down to his shoulders, Carlo was the very portrait of her ideal man. His limbs, though free from imperfections, were identical to those of a real male. Aurela didn't mind perfection, not one bit.