Argurma Monster (The Argurma Chronicles #2)

Prologue

Talech Gerrivach Nunshula gave the smaller aliens a bland stare as they talked excitedly over their newest modification. He was strapped in place to a mounting station that was capable of mechanically shifting backward to lay flat. It was a relief to be upright, though the pinch of the straps was an annoyance. Annoyance was all he felt anymore. That and the muted sensation of relief when he was finally turned loose to wander around the sparse habitat that they provided him. There was no more privacy there than there was in the surgical room with its oversight station, but at least there he was free to move about as he liked and was generally not interfered with. So he patiently waited through the pain and torture for the relief that he knew would come.

His new appendages extending out from behind his shoulders and down his spine twitched in response to the stimulation to the scientists applied to them, and Talech gave them a curious glance as he felt the muscle respond in an unfamiliar way. It was strange and more than a little unsettling, but then so was every modification he had undergone long before crashing on this planet. He would become accustomed to it as he had any other. The sight of the slightly serrated metal legs did give him pause, however. Though they would be convenient enough weapons and it was easy to accept them as such, he could not suppress his distaste for their insectoid appearance. Although he did not begrudge his capture or the experimentations—as these were all things that Argurma would have carried out on an unknown species as well—in this particular case, he did not process their purpose.

He expressed his confusion with a soft chittering and click of his mandibles and silently scoffed when the scientists scurried back from him. He did not process the reason for their fear reaction any more than he could for the purpose of this newest experiment. While it was true that they could not understand him—they had never allowed him anywhere near his ship where he could have accessed the translator tech stored there—he had never reacted with hostility toward them either. Oh, he would kill every one of them if there was a clear opening for escape but otherwise, he was cooperative as any Argurma drone reared to serve Argurumal.

He couldn’t even dredge up the interest in bearing his captors any ill will when the brutality of the experiments caused significant pain or primal regressions within him. Talech had been considered something of a throwback anyway, which made him an ideal candidate to be an explorer for Argurumal, so it had not taken much, and he had been largely unconcerned with it. There were none of his kind present to mock his fallen state, nor mating compatible females to whom he could potentially pose a danger toward if caught within a fugue of primal lust. The fugue was one of many qualities that they supposedly bred out of their people. Clearly those traits, like those brutal ones that had recently resurfaced in Talech, had merely gone dormant only to return when the right conditions were applied.

As he watched the scientists circle around him, he idly wondered how the scientists of his own planet would greet such a discovery. Or his new modifications for that matter. Argurmas were a proud species—far too much to make extreme alterations to the physical appearance of their people, although it had been quietly speculated that the scientists chafed at their restrictions. He wondered if they would be gleeful if they had access to him as he was now. Given that he was already compromised, they would have little to stop them from studying his changes or trying to implement further ones. Though once he had told himself that he would be rescued once the beacon from his crash site was intercepted, now he hoped that he would not. What these scientists did was minor compared to what those of his own people would do with constraints no longer placed upon them. If he ever managed to free himself, he would have no other option than to remain on those quadrants far from his home space.

Clicking his mandibles softly, Talech’s head bent to meet the gaze of the human peering up at his new limbs speculatively. The male shrank back slightly when he noted Talech’s gaze on him but cleared his throat to address the male standing to the left of him.

“What are his vitals?”

The other male looked down at his handheld. “They appear within normal range, Dr. Phillips.”

The scientist in question grimaced. “It would be helpful if we had an exact range of what would be normal for his species rather than guessing a baseline from a specimen that came to us injured.” He sighed and glanced back over at the other male. “I understand that Dr. Ryder is planning to oversee our study today?”

“She is due on the observation deck within the hour.”

Dr. Phillips sighed deeply. “Well, we’d better get on with the electroshock study to the subject’s system with the new limbs in place before she arrives. I’ve already received communications that we are to discontinue the electroshock study on the biotech specimen along with several of our other standard tests. I told mainland that it was a mistake to put a woman in charge here. Because of their shortsightedness, we will now have to continue certain experiments in secret, outside of our authorized study,” he grumbled bitterly as he waved an assistant forward carrying a large rod with a broad, flat head.

Electricity arched over it, and Talech threw back his head and roared as the pulse drove through him, disabling his systems.

A sweet scent rolled over him as he came to. Talech breathed it in deeply and shivered at the effect of it moving through him. It was delectable. He could spend hours enjoying the perfume of some unknown flower mingled with a feminine musk, spice, and a hint of something akin to the waxy dew produced by vansiks. It was muted, however, as if coming through shared airducts rather than a presence directly in the room with him. The scent poured through his veins like a drug, and his civix swelled and twitched so suddenly within his sheath that his eyes snapped open in surprise. He dragged in another eager breath, and he lifted his head, fully aware of the pain of his large body where it hung on the mounting station. There was a compatible female nearby—and she was seeing him like this.

Anger churned in his stomach at his sudden vulnerability as something clicked overhead and a husky, feminine voice fell on his ears.

“Dr. Phillips, it appears that subject A02 is conscious. Please commence,” she ordered just before the intercom system clicked off.

The male nodded his head and moved forward, carrying a long syringe. “Experiment 1564—reproductive analysis. We will be withdrawing a semen sample to see if recent experiments have caused any reproductive side effects and then we will be administrating an experimental injection designed to boost sperm count and another to chemically triggered erection. Due to the subject’s neurological and biological responses to various chemicals which appear to be similar to our own, we’ve been greenlighted to commence testing. The results should determine whether or not human trials will begin. Although subject appears to be a mature male, he has no outward genitalia present. If the latter is successful, we should have full extrusion.”

Talech’s eyes slid closed, and he groaned inwardly as he felt the sharp prick of the needs being pressed into his sheath. The first lingered for a time before it was removed harmlessly, but the second pumped something within him that caused his civix to burn. It did nothing more than that for several heartbeats, but then it began to swell and twist violently, bringing with it the pleasure-pain of his civix breaching his sheath. He snarled with anger and in shame that he was breeching without preparation to mate. At least one of the numerous experiments had disabled the parts of his neural network that would report the incident to the council. He would suffer no further repercussions from the council for this transgression being committed against him.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Phillips muttered. “I’m going to do a full examination while I have him. Our scans can only give so much information. AI set to record. I’m proceeding.”

Something gripped and tightened around his civix like a band. Talech’s gaze turned down to the scientist’s hand gripping him in shock, and a loud hiss rattled from him when Dr. Phillip’s opposite hand probed his sheath, dipping down inside of it and pressing brutally against his reproductive sacks as he began to make his observations aloud regarding the shape and placement of his reproductive system.

“Checking response to stimulation—”

A throat cleared overhead, interrupting him. “I don’t think all of that will be necessary, Dr. Phillips,” the female chided. “Move on, please.”

“Of course, Dr. Ryder,” the male replied sourly as he released Talech’s civix and turned to another table while his breeding member retreated.

Several more tests were carried out that were more in line with the usual. He considered himself fortunate that they were not harvesting organs samples again. By the end of it all Talech was wracked with pain, but his thoughts focused on one thing.

“The female... please. Let me see the female.”

“Did he just say something?” the voice overhead demanded.

Dr. Phillips regarded him with interest. “Yes, although we have no idea what. Our attempts to learn his language have been a failure, though he seems to understand us. Frankly, I’m surprised he spoke at all as this is the first time he’s attempted to communicate in months.”

Talech’s eyes slid shut, his resentment churning within him as he was wheeled to his prison and left there. The clamps from his mount only released him once he was alone within the chamber once more. An angry growled ripped through him as he stalked futilely around the room. His pacing was uninterrupted, his entire being demanding to find the female. His body demanded that he breed but he wasn’t a complete beast. He wanted more than that from his mate. The rules of Argurumal would have him court her and win her favor so that she would select him and initiate breeding, but he wasn’t on Argurumal and his awakened instinct demanded nothing short of claiming her. But she never came, and his bellowed demands went ignored.

With nightfall, however, Talech found himself incapacitated and the darker experiments began once again. So it went every night, and he endured the torture even as his anger shifted into hatred for every rotation that passed that he was kept apart from her. Then, finally, one rotation she came, and it was the sweetest gift. She sat for hours in a safely sectioned off partition of his cage and talked to him. Although he couldn’t converse with her as he would have liked, he enjoyed the cadence of her voice as she talked nonsensically to him as if he were a violent animal to be tamed. As a male eager to exert his claim, he was insulted but also too intrigued to hold any grudge. When she began to talk about herself, however, he listened intently to every detail, wanting to know more about her and how he might go about what limited courtship he would be capable of.

Although her voice brought a certain peace to his mind, he found himself aroused continuously by her scent and her strange, enticing appearance. Although the alien species possessed flat, bland features, lacking the ridges and mandibles of an Argurma, he noted that, compared to others of her species, she was strikingly small and dainty, with large, expressive eyes and a pronounced mouth that drew his gaze and a build that possessed exaggerated curves due to the abundant swell of her breast and the broad placement of her round hips. The pelt on her head was pinned in a thick coil to the top of her head, but he was certain that unpinned it was long and, judging by the escaped strands, likely had curls to its warm brown and golden length. Her lips were lush and pink, and his fingers itched to pull away her clothing to discover for himself what other color variation she possessed. But it was the intelligence and unarming compassion in her dark blue eyes that stole the last of his resistance completely.

He wanted Dr. Ryder. His need to claim her grew the longer he was in her company, and it even drew a few reluctant attempts to communicate from him in his longing to express his desire, admiration, and need for her. He knew from past attempts it was useless but for her he would try again even though he was certain that he would not see her again afterward, the thought of which filled him with impotent fury.

Resolution filled his blood when he watched her walk out of his cage, and it mingled there with his hatred until he at last lashed out at his captors when they unleashed him for one of their unauthorized late-night experiments. With the security disabled, he was determined to get through and destroy all of them in his attempt to get to his mate. Dr. Phillips was the first to die as Talech ripped through his bowels. And then his assistants. Blood slicked the walls as the scientists and guards poured into the room and attempted to restrain him. It was only by a slight miscalculation that he found himself forced back into a stasis pod and bellowing his fury as a dying scientist slammed it closed over him and initiated stasis.

“Sleep well, bastard,” the male hissed, the blood on his hand smearing the pod when he finally dropped from its side.

Talech’s final thoughts were in fugue, his need to destroy his captors and his need to claim his female roaring relentlessly through them until the icy cold took hold and pulled all senses from him.

Only despair lingered with the knowledge that none among the Argurma were coming for him.