Alien and the Wedding Planner - Page 15

“Common people? No. But those who belong in the noble houses are expected to get married to ensure their lineages don’t end.”

“What about dating? Your people still date, right?”

“No.”

“You’re kidding me. What about sex? You’ve gotta have sex. Dude, it’s a basic need for every living creature. Just like sleeping or eating.”

Ice only smiled and slowly shook his head.

“Get out of here!”

“Is that an idiom or do you really want me to leave this room?”

Alana made a dismissive gesture that Ice translated as “never mind”.

“In retrospect,” she began, “everything that we do as humans are basically for procreation. I don’t know if you people know about our history. The human evolution history.”

Ice nodded eagerly. “We’ve studied the history of your species via your internet: Sahelanthropus tchadensis—Kenyanthropus platyops—Australopithecus afarensis—Paranthropus boisei—Homo habilis—Homo ergaster—Homo erectus—Homo neanderthalensis and finally, Homo sapiens, modern men.”

“Yeah. Right. They said that when a caveman wanted to mate, he just selected an available female that caught his fancy, clubbed her in the head and dragged her into his cave to mate. Then, came the olden times where men became slightly sophisticated. They wooed women with song, bravery, birthright or how many sheep they had to buy them a bride. They worked hard, tilled the lands, waged wars, or conquered a nation in order to become the alpha male that would ultimately make them very desirable and get them laid. There goes the subliminal procreation instinct. And now, the present-day men do stuff that essentially is no different than their predecessors. Men go to school and study hard so they ace the tests and making them smart and popular, so they can get laid. Men play sports to see which one of them is the better, stronger, and far more superior, so women will like them and get them laid. Men work hard and climb the corporate ladder and become the biggest assholes and amass massive wealth so women will like them better and, can you guess what next?”

“And get them laid,” Ice finished, ever serious.

Alana laughed. “You get the gist. So you see, Ice, that’s it in the nutshell. Humans, just like many species on Earth, do what they do because they are driven by the procreation instinct. That’s my theory, anyway. Now, about your race, was it always this way?” she asked.

“No. About a century ago, our previous emperor became obsessed with the idea of happiness and prosperity, and viewed anything else, no matter how momentary, as a failure. He created Arcana, a network that monitored all Crimeans every second. Every aspect. It was also the time when each citizen started implanting neuracom.” Ice made a twirly gesture behind his head.

Her eyebrows arched. “Neuracom?”

“A computer installed in the brain stem. It has many useful day-to-day applications, actually. The Arcana network detected when someone became sad, angry, anxious, or unhap

py in any way, and they were…corrected. Drugs and other therapies were used to fix them and restore a state of happiness. Anger had no place in the society and many were put in jail or executed when Arcana found them to be mentally defective. Our people began to fear such treatment, and had to learn to suppress the fear as well as any negative emotions to avoid being put into treatment facilities.”

Alana held the spoon two inches in front of her mouth, gaping. “Sounds like a dystopian nightmare.”

Ice agreed. “Perhaps it was. When people were no longer allowed to feel sad or angry, they could no longer even be happy. We fell into a state of emotional apathy and lost interest in feelings at all. Intellectually, society made great strides, but people were no longer interested in marriage or procreation, art, music, entertainment. Our race was dwindling with no new births, so artificial reproduction was necessary. “And when the emperor was assassinated, the Arcana system was destroyed, but the damage had already been done. The apathies were deeply ingrained in our people. Despite the government’s efforts to rehabilitate our people, some ingrained mentality was hard to correct. And, as you can see, here we are today.”

“Why do you think I can help you? And don’t say because I’m a wedding planner. If you want to know more about humans you should have kidnapped a professor. An anthropologist or some expert in sociology or something.”

“Trust me, Alana. It was not my attention to kidnap you. Something happened with our ship and bringing you with us seemed to be the only logical decision at that time.”

“I see.”

A brief silence stretched between them.

“Suppose,” Alana said between bites, “you force me to go to Crimea, and I refuse to help you.”

Ice’s back stiffened, and his neck tightened. That was a possibility he hadn’t considered. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Oh, maybe because I’m stubborn? And I don’t like being knocked unconscious and kidnapped?” She drank some water. “So, let’s say I refuse to help you. What will you do? Torture me until I comply? Kill me?”

Ice put his hand on her arm, a gesture that wasn’t common for him. “Of course not, Alana. You would never be harmed. If you refuse to help us and we can’t convince you to change your mind…then my people will die out. Surely you won’t allow that to happen if you can prevent it. I have a hunch that’s the kind of person you are.”

She shrugged, but it didn’t look entirely convincing. “I’m not sure I can even do what you want anyway, and I want to go home. I might not be that cooperative with you when we get there.”

“Being cooperative with me might be a moot point.” Ice hadn’t planned on telling Alana about their dire situation, but it seemed pointless to keep it from her now. If she planned on being uncooperative, she might be even worse if she woke on Crimea among all new faces that weren’t sure how to deal with her. “You see, our ship is crippled, low on fuel for a journey that takes three Earth months. If it runs out before we make it back into orbit, your pod will be jettisoned and Crimea will be alerted to rescue you. I’ll provide information about you, of course, and any of the Crimeans you wake to will be able to answer your questions. Perhaps you’ll be more cooperative with someone who’s not responsible for taking you and it’s for the best that I don’t make it back.”

Alana stared at him with frown.

Tags: Lizzie Lynn Lee Science Fiction
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