Chapter 11: Myeong & Roco

MYEONG

“You want to get ~inside~?” Juan hissed in the now-empty and quiet room. “You can’t do that!”

He hurried over, eyes darting toward the door the alien doctors had disappeared behind.

Myeong didn’t answer as she crouched to the floor and searched beneath the capsule. It felt smooth. Where was the button?

“Stop it, Myeong!” Juan grabbed her hand and tried to pull her to her feet, but she wrenched her arm away.

She glared up at him. “What would you do if you thought you could help ~him~?” She nodded toward Clint’s capsule.

He went silent. He didn’t stop her as she continued her search.

They both turned, and Myeong stood at the sound of the entry door swooshing open.

“Alexis?” Juan said.

Myeong and Juan glanced at each other. It ~was~ Alexis, though Myeong hadn’t recognized her as quickly as Juan. And the Zibon standing beside her holding her hand was ~her~ Zibon; the white Zibon doctor who wasn’t so white anymore.

Now, he had long black hair and the same dark eyes that Alexis once had. ~Once~ had. Now, her eyes were like a Zibon’s, looking gorgeous against her dark skin, her hair as white as his was black. They both looked astoundingly beautiful. Like two pieces to the same remarkable puzzle. Like Yin and Yang. Only complete when together.

Myeong’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut as she felt a crushing pain in her chest. They were bonded. Alexis’s lover was safe—safe from the Wrilings! Myeong knew it. She knew it! Because of their bond. Because of her love. They looked so happy. Alexis was actually smiling.

Myeong’s eyes fell to their entwined hands.

“Hi, Juan,” Alexis said. “Myeong.” Even her voice sounded different, more mature, like she was an entirely new person. What happened to the angry, defensive woman who liked to fight so much?

Her yellow eyes trailed over the fifteen capsules, her smile falling away as her face screwed up with sadness. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

Even from across the room, Myeong could see how she tightened her grip around the Zibon’s hand. The backs of Myeong’s eyes prickled. If Roco ever got out of this, the first thing she would do was grab onto his wonderful hands. They were the most beautiful thing about him—so beautiful in their gentleness. As beautiful as his eyes.

She sniffed and turned her head.

“How are they?” the Zibon doctor asked, coming over to check on the capsules, particularly Clint’s, whom he seemed most interested in.

“Miktar told you,” Juan said.

“Yes. I’ve come to help.”

“Help, how?”

His dark eyes met Juan’s. “I don’t know yet.”

“Why are ~you~ here?” Juan asked Alexis rudely.

Alexis straightened. “Wherever he goes, I go. We’ve agreed.” The two glanced at each other, as though sharing the same thought.

“Right,” Juan muttered.

Alexis and her lover began talking with each other. The Zibon bent over her, as though even in conversation he was protecting her, their hands firmly intertwined. Myeong turned away, unable to look, and went back to Roco.

The Zibon doctor left through the door where the rest of the medical team had disappeared, leaving Alexis behind.

Myeong spun around with a start, suddenly realizing something. “You’re bonded.”

Alexis raised a white eyebrow. “Yes.”

“He’s a doctor—you should know! Tell me how to open this.” She indicated Roco’s capsule.

Alexis frowned. “Why?”

“I want to help him.”

“How?”

Myeong turned back, gazing down upon Roco’s face. “I want to bond with him.”

“What?!” Juan and Alexis said together.

“If I bond with him, it might…it might help. It ~will~ help. It might not wake him up, but it will at least stop his—the Wriling’s…” Myeong bit her lip, unable to say it. “Like Juan’s.”

“You don’t know that,” Juan said. “You don’t know it has anything to do with the bond at all.”

“It’s something! It’s hope! I must do ~something~,” she said, glancing toward the door where the doctors were. Her hands were trembling. She was shaking so much her teeth were starting to chatter. “Please, Alexis. Tell me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Tell me!”

“I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous! Not for ~me~.” She touched her face. “It tried—and failed. It’ll fail again.”

“You don’t know that,” Juan said.

“I don’t care! Tell me, Alexis!”

The woman shook her head.

Myeong clenched her fists. The urge to rush her was overwhelming, to push her and slap her and have her up against the wall. Hot, angry tears flooded her eyes. Alexis wouldn’t help. She had her man, and that was it for her. She didn’t care about Roco or Myeong. Nobody did!

She turned back to the capsule and continued with her search. She could always try to smash through the glass, but it looked quite hard, and all it would do was attract attention—and then the Zibons would take her away, and she’d have no chance of saving Roco.

It didn’t matter anyway; both Alexis and Juan hauled her back.

“Let go!” She thrashed against them. “You don’t care! You don’t ~care~!”

“What’s going on?” came a deep voice.

Juan and Alexis released her, and Myeong spun around. It was the doctor, Miktar. He was standing with his medical team. Alexis’s dark-haired lover stood beside him.

“Open the capsule,” Myeong demanded. “I must bond with him.”

Juan shook his head. Alexis stood beside her alien and grasped his hand, face screwed up with sadness, her yellow eyes shining.

“Open the capsule!” Myeong repeated.

“In time, perhaps,” Miktar said.

Myeong paused, her heart leaping in her chest. “Y—you mean you’ll let me?”

“Not yet. It’s dangerous. It’s never been done before. We don’t know what could happen.”

“But we can’t wait. It’s eating him!” She burst into tears. “I don’t… I don’t ~care~ what happens to me. I just—just want…him back.”

“And how would Roco feel if the Wriling took you instead? See reason, little Rictorian. We know you love him—we love him too. We want him back.” The doctor sounded like he was on the brink of tears himself. His mouth was twitching as he turned his gaze toward the fifteen capsules.

“We want them ~all~ back. They are our brothers.”

Myeong swallowed. She grabbed onto her chest, trying to calm the sobs racking her chest. She took a shuddering breath.

“What do you want me to do?”

The hospital was busy again. The majority of the activity centered around Clint and Roco. She didn’t know what the team was doing, but at least they were doing something.

They were abuzz with nervous energy. She, Juan, and Alexis kept receiving curious, surprised glances. Myeong hardly noticed.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” she kept murmuring under her breath.

The Zibons took several vials of blood from her and Juan, skin scrapings, multiple brain and body scans. Like Myeong, Juan didn’t care, allowing them to do anything they wanted.

She was glad they were trying so hard, but it was taking too long. At each passing moment, Roco was dying a little more.

Finally, she couldn’t take any more. She seized onto a nearby doctor’s arm as he tried to hurry past. Their eyes locked.

He towered over her, his yellow eyes bright. He could have thrown her off; she ~expected~ him to throw her off, but he stopped to listen. It surprised her.

It was like the Zibons were treating them differently now—as though they were important.

“Get me Miktar,” she told him. “Before it’s too late.”