Chapter 7

Try as he may, Tristan just couldn’t bring his surroundings into focus. His mind was foggy. It took considerable effort to remember who he was, where he was, and why he was there. Visions of his years growing up in Manthella floated inside his head. They’d been happy years, filled with fun and pleasure right up until he was old enough to choose which faction he’d join. His parents were both physicians and wanted him to be the same, but his personality and constitution leaned more toward the military.

It was his limited exposure to medicine that gave him an understanding of what was happening. He’d been injected with a serum that would incapacitate him so that his captors had the freedom to do as they wished with his body. Although barely aware of his senses, he was able to feel a poke and a jab now and then. An electric rod was used on more than one occasion to elicit a positive or negative response. They took so much blood from him that he lost count at vial number twelve. He was grateful for his body’s ability to rapidly reproduce and regenerate.

Surprise, shame, and fury bubbled beneath the fog that consumed him when they coaxed his body into ejaculating a surprising amount of sperm in such a removed and disinterested manner that they could have been doing any type of mundane activity. He could only imagine what they intended to do with it.

He’d considered pulling on his genetic heritage on more than one occasion, but thought better of it. He’d done it while battling the evil meta-naturals but worried that if he brought that side of him to the forefront, the mad scientist would be aware of it and have better access to the genetics he struggled to keep hidden from him. With what Tristan had already deduced was going on in the facility, he shuddered to think of the consequences of such a mind having access to his true genetics.

If he had more of his own people backing him, then, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but alone and drugged half of the time… well, it just wasn’t the wisest thing to do. At least not until he had a better understanding of where he was, how many humans were involved in his capture, what happened to his vessel, and how to make a clean and speedy getaway.

His people were the product of the Atlantean experiments. Half-creature, half-human. Over the millenniums, they’d worked at mastering subduing their beastly side to the point that it came forth only when called upon to help save their people when in dire situations. While once looked upon as something to hide and be ashamed of amongst others in inner-earth, his kind was now revered. It was because of Tristan’s ability to call that side of him out with rapid speed that he advanced so far in military rank.

He resigned himself to the fact that, so far, they’d done nothing that, although uncomfortable, would harm him. He still held on to the hope that he’d find a way to reason with the mad scientist and complete his mission.

It was unfortunate that the doctor picked up on his premonition ability. Telepathy and premonitions were a prominent feature in his family. They attributed it to their beastly genes, since pure humanoids inside inner-earth showed no signs of possessing them.

The familiar voice of the mad scientist penetrated his fog. “I need one more sperm sample.”

“We got a considerable amount during that last ejaculation,” said the voice he’d grown to recognize as belonging to the pimply faced assistant.

“I didn’t ask how much you’d gotten,” the doctor barked in Russian; a language Tristan was beginning to understand as well as his own. “I said I want one more sample.” After a moment of silence, he added, “How long has it been since you collected the last dose of sperm?”

“An hour,” the assistant said.

“That is plenty of time to produce effective sperm again,” the mad scientist insisted. “Collect it and bring it to the reproductive lab right away.”

“Will you be there?” the assistant asked hesitantly.

“Does it matter?” the doctor asked with curiosity.

“It is just that,” the assistant said hesitantly, “the new girl seems a little… I do not feel good about divulging too much to her. She did not receive proper orientation and I get the impression she does not approve of what we are doing. Not to mention the fact that she asks far too many questions.”

“Questions?” the doctor asked with mild irritation. “Did no one give her an orientation once she arrived?”

“I made certain she had one on the afternoon she arrived, yet, she still persists in asking about things that she has no businesses asking about,” the assistant whined. “I just wonder if she will follow your instructions when I deliver the sperm if you are not there. Perhaps you should…”

The mad man took Tristan by surprise when he reverted to bellowing in English. “I don’t need you telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, Oleg.”

“Yes, doctor,” the assistant said timidly; speaking in English as well. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“I’ll see to the girl,” the doctor said with a sigh, “but, until then, send someone to the lab to make sure she follows direction.”

Tristan detected a hint of pleasure in the assistant the mad scientist called Oleg when he said, “Yes, sir.”

A fresh injection sent his body into cloudy nothingness. From somewhere far away he could feel the erotic arousal caused by the stimulation of his genitals and realized that, once again, his sperm was being collected. He knew he should be upset, but he felt void of all emotion.

He allowed his mind the freedom to take him wherever it chose. As it had so many times since his capture, it took him to the room with the large bed and the beautiful naked dream girl. Each visit brought him closer to fulfilling his desire to have her fully. He imagined brushing her thick copper hair away from her pert nipple to allow his mouth access while his hardened rod rammed deep inside her as he poured forth an abundance of seed.

A feeling of loneliness and void replaced the warm erotic fantasy as he felt his limp and naked body being abandoned and the heat of the lights cooling as they were reduced to a mere glow.

He hoped they would complete their studies soon so that he could think with a clear head again. He needed to observe and ask questions so that he could find out what he needed to know in order to escape. He still had a spark of hope that he’d be able to complete his mission, but, if not, he’d return home. He didn’t want to return having failed his mission, but it was better than being a test subject for the rest of his life.