Page 1 of Her Alien Matchmaker

“D r. Lamb, I don’t know how, but this big bastard is waking up,” whispered the anesthesiologist, Dr. Kincaid. The alien’s heart monitor beeped faster.

“Hold him steady, I almost have it.” I slid my scalpel against the outer myelin sheath of the Volderen’s spine and snagged a small sample onto a slide. “There.”

The muscles of Subject Forty-eight’s arms twitched.

Handing the slide to one of my assistants, I stepped away from the six-foot-eight Volderen lying on the surgical table.

He might be restrained, but I’d rather not take any chances.

The alien had been in my care for the last three weeks, and I refused to work on him, or any subjects, unless they were fully sedated.

It made the procedure smoother. Plus, I don’t have to look into their eyes.

I glanced at Dr. Kincaid. “Can you give him more sedative so we can sew him up?”

“Not without risking permanent damage to his brain.” Kincaid frowned, stark disapproval flashing in his eyes.

I shrugged. “If this last round proves he’s a match, it won’t matter.” I lowered my voice. “You know what they’ll do to him then.” I shifted my focus to the new intern in XVU’s civilian medical corps, and slowly pulled off my gloves. “Get him patched up, please. We’re done for today.”

The young doctor—Jody Condley—glanced at me, her brown irises contrasting against the blue surgical mask covering half her lower face.

Her brows drew inward, but when my gaze challenged hers, she dipped her chin and focused on the stitches.

Still, I could feel the weight of her thoughts on my actions, my choices.

How dare they judge me? I’ve contributed to a dozen genetic breakthroughs because of these beings.

The matches I’ve made guarantee our military defenses remain at the top.

Once Congress learns of the new super soldiers, our experiments have created, our funding will be unlimited, and we won’t have to hide in the dark.

Ever since XVU’s existence had been exposed weeks ago by an anonymous source, we’d had to lie low.

Turned out politicians can’t stand up to public pressure when their shadow government is exposed to the light.

Sweeping raids had been conducted to bring the military command of XVU to justice.

And if I don’t get these last matches untangled, all our heads will be on the chopping block.

It’s a matter of time before that shitstorm rolls downhill.

Which meant I had to make the perfect match if I wanted to save myself.

Not just me, though. Aaron’s future is at stake, too.

The Volderen on the table let out a small groan.

His skin, a dark bronze, looked kissed by the sun.

His kind’s flesh normally appeared in greens, blues, and purples.

When Subject Forty-eight had been brought to the lab a few weeks back, he’d been a dusky shade of lilac, but once I’d found Volderen genetic markers matching human pigments, I’d manipulated his DNA to change his tone to something more natural.

That has been my biggest breakthrough, at least for now.

I scrolled through the notes on my data pad; another bit of technology adapted from Volderens.

It used quantum computing and outperformed anything humans had at the moment.

The tablet, along with my samples, had been instrumental in the research.

If I could find a way to make the Volderen nervous system compatible with ours, I could augment a soldier’s neurology to create instantaneous reflexes.

A soldier who can instantly react to threats or situations turns the tide in battle.

Plus, preliminary tests had shown subjects had a much more evolved cognitive function.

Tapping into that would revolutionize our entire military force by allowing instantaneous communication through thoughts between anyone with the implant.

When the Volderens came looking for a fight, we’d be ready.

Let’s hope the myelin sample today gives me what I need.

“Now that he’s sewn up, I guess you don’t need the sedative, Dr. Lambodino?” Dr. Kincaid held up a clear vial. “Because if you have what you need, I’d rather he be wheeled to his cell and skip the risk to his nervous system.”

I turned to Subject Forty-eight. His fingers twitched,, and another groan sounded. “Go ahead with another dose, I need him out for another hour. I’d like to run a couple more tests on him.”

“For the record, I don’t agree with this.” Kincaid shook his head, and his face puckered like a sour lemon.

“You don’t have to agree with it.” My voice came out colder than I’d intended.

“Just do it. You signed up for this team and knew the risks. You have, what—two more months of your tour? The NDA you signed at the beginning explicitly listed everything you’d be performing.

If you were so concerned about alien safety, you shouldn’t have signed it before trading student loan debt forgiveness and an extra million-dollar payout. ”

He pushed the syringe into the IV sticking into the subject’s hand. Once finished, he tossed the vial into the sharps bin and brushed past me, his eyes narrowed and his lips flat.

“Thank you,” I said.

As he passed by me, I’m pretty sure he muttered, “Cold bitch”, but it could’ve been my imagination.

I swept my gaze around the room to my assistants and interns, still frozen from watching our exchange, and I waved toward the door. “You guys are free to go. I’ll need you back tomorrow morning at 0800.”

Relief flooded the surgical team’s faces. A flurry of gowns and gloves flew into the biohazard bins, and after scrubbing themselves clean, they exited the room.

Turning to the two XVU guards, I said, “Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes? I’d like to test something before you take him to his cell.”

“Ma’am, we can’t leave you alone in here with—”

“Sure you can.” I nodded my head toward the row of windows set into one of the walls. “You can still keep an eye on things. Besides, if I make a mistake, it’s possible a mutation gets released and turn us all into a Volderen.”

Their faces blanched, and their eyes grew large.

A laugh nearly burst out of my mouth, but I swallowed it back down. Nothing of the sort would happen, but they don’t have to know.

“We’ll wait outside, Ma’am.” They pivoted through the doors so fast I thought they’d trip on the way out.

I turned to the large alien. His twitching had stopped.

“It’s just you and me, now, big boy,” I said, critically eyeing his features.

He looks human, albeit a giant, except for the brown horns coming out of his forehead.

Finding the match to those might also prove useful with growing natural weapons or defenses in human soldiers.

I’d have to look into it as a side project.

I put a digit on one, tracing the curve to the pointed end jutting out three inches. Warmth met my touch.

“If you weren’t alien, you’d be a beautiful man.” Sighing, I removed my hand. It’s not very professional to touch the subject like this. Usually, I never gave Volderens a second thought; I did my job and moved on to the next phase. “But you…you feel different somehow. Why?”

Something hard gripped my wrist, and I gasped, reflexively pulling away from the alien, but he held on with fingers of iron.

His open eyes blazed a fiery orange, and his mouth opened, revealing sharp teeth.

“Why do you cause me pain when I have done nothing to you?” His voice came out as a raspy growl.

Alarm pounded a steady beat of blood in my ears. This is why I always insist they stay asleep. Overriding that thought, though, followed the metallic tang of fear on my tongue. He can hurt me. Badly. I need to get the guards’ attention.

From the security window, I observed their backs as their heads bent together, gazing at something on a phone.

Subject Forty-eight’s grip tightened, and he yanked me against the table. “Answer me. The doctors of this world swear an oath to respect life, to not cause harm. Why do you betray this pledge?”

“I…I…” He’s right. Fifteen years ago, I took an oath. A small part of me balked at his accusation, at the pained look in his eyes. “Yeah, I swore it, but that promise applies to humans , not aliens intent on destroying us.”

“We are sentient and we feel, like you.” His grip remained steadfast, but he closed his eyelids for a moment, then refocused on me. “The things you people do to me, to my people…they are horrific. Do you enjoy hurting us… me ? Does it give you sick pleasure?”

I yanked against his hand, but he didn’t budge.

I need to keep him talking so I can either figure a way out or get the guards’ attention.

“Absolutely not. I always ensure my subjects are completely under. Science demands sacrifice, but you, Subject Forty-eight, haven’t suffered at my hand.

” A quick glance at the glass showed the guards laughing, still intent on whatever video played across their screen.

I opened my mouth to scream, but his grip increased, and he jerked my arm forcefully, pulling me closer.

“My name is Jetarin R'lyndegras, and I am a person like you, not a subject. Have you no compassion or ethics in your heart? I have not hurt you or any human. Your people abducted me , tortured me, then carted me to you, Dr. Frosty, to continue the abuse.” He glanced at his body.

“So you can create your abominations and sully my blood with yours.”

I froze. Dr. Frosty? Rumors had swirled about my nickname, but it had never been confirmed. “Th-they call me that?” Is this really the thing I should be focusing on right now?

His vision traveled from my face to my hand in his. “Amongst other things.”

I pressed my lips together. “My name is Kristina .” Why do I even care if he knows my real name or not?

Color rose to his cheeks. His eyes seemed clearer, less groggy.

“If you truly do not believe in torture, then help me. I have friends and siblings, a home. You have everything you need now. If you do not help me, when you are finished, they will end my life. Prove you are a doctor of healing, not pain.”

There had been many times I’d imagined myself in this exact scenario, playing it in my head, imagining what I would do if a subject woke up.

An alien begging for his life, for help with his escape, had never crossed my mind.

All these years, XVU had drilled into me Volderens kill first and ask questions later.

Command stressed how violent and unpredictable they were, that they abducted women to serve as their slaves, and if given the chance, a Volderen would obliterate the entire planet of humanity.

Yet, this one is nothing like I imagined. He seems calm and rational. And the damn guards out there should be fired for not guarding.

“I am doing my job. Escape isn’t an option for you.” I pulled my arm against his hand, but he yanked me even closer as he sat up, pushing his face an inch from mine. “Or for me.” Aaron’s mischievous smile came to mind. Without me, what would he do? Go into the foster care system?

“In the two minutes I have been awake, I could have smashed your head in, but I did not. You know why? Because I am not like you.” Up close, he smelled woodsy and masculine. “All life is sacred, even the existence of a sentient race eons behind us.”

“That may be, but who’s the prisoner?” I shot back, slow anger simmering in my blood. “Judge me all you want, but I am doing good. For my people at least.”

He showed his sharp teeth in a diabolical grin. “ Are you? Or are you telling yourself that so you can sleep at night?”

Bam!

The doors flew open behind me. “Let her go immediately or we’ll blast you into nothing,” yelled one of the guards.

Finally. Jesus Christ.

Subject Forty-eight’s chocolate-colored irises, ringed with orange, dropped to my lips. “Hippocrates would be ashamed to know you. You serve no one but yourself.”

“Get away from her now. We won’t warn you again.”

I raised my free hand. “I’ve got everything I need from him. Feel free to shoot.”

The Volderen narrowed his gaze, but he did release my wrist, lifting his arms upward to show he surrendered. “The nickname suits you,” he whispered.

The guards ran over, and one pulled me away, both their weapons trained on the alien, sitting motionless, his attention locked onto my face. He seemed thoughtful and slightly amused, not at all afraid for his life.

“Restrain him, then take him back to his cell,” I ordered.

They locked on metal cuffs reinforced with electrical shielding, courtesy of the research department’s reverse engineering of Volderen handcuffs.

“You fucking scum.” Seargeant Rychek used the butt of his weapon and struck the Volderen across the bridge of his nose.

Blue blood welled from the gash, but the alien made no move to wipe it away.

Rychek raised his gun for another strike.

“Sergeant, I’m not finished with Subject Forty-eight. Damage his tissues, and it could become a problem for all of us. Plus, I have concerns about guards who play on their phones instead of protecting their team. I’d like to avoid these issues. Wouldn’t you?”

The young man hesitated, then mumbled, “Yes Ma’am” and lowered his weapon.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and left the room, heading for my locker, ready to call it a day while the lab processed my samples.

I need a goddamn glass of wine tonight. Too many emotions to process right now. Clearing my head, I focused on gathering my things and heading to the surface of the one-hundred floor facility lying underneath Roswell, New Mexico.

A good night of sleep and tomorrow will be business as usual.

Deep in my stomach, though, settled a seed of doubt and shame—emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time, and I was desperate to ignore them.