Chapter 4 Page 2

Sometime in 1959, Diablo Canyon Experimental Research Labs.

This place was, in theory, a lot nicer than Siberia. For one, it was clean. Very very very clean. Everything smelled like bleach all the time and it stung his nose enough to sneeze. The walls were white. Everywhere. Nikita preferred this much more than the rotting wooden walls of his old cell back in his home country, but the place still took some getting used to. He'd only been here for a month or so, signing paperwork, doing blood tests, and moving from cell to cell for each test. Well, they were medical-type rooms, just like a hospital, except the doors were always locked and he couldn't leave without talking to someone first. So basically a cell. Yeah.

He walks down one of the lab's many hallways with a scientist. The man talks to him a little too fast and he only partially understands what he's talking about. Basically, he can live here, in the lab, in the US, as an assistant, as long as he does what he's told. Which he's quite good at, actually. And if he's getting rewarded for doing tasks, like sitting still for a blood sample, or running on a treadmill, hey it wasn't that bad.

The scientist snaps in front of his face, trying to get the shorter man's attention. Nikita blinks.

"Listen, this is different from what you've been doing. We are going to see how Subject Lady reacts to you being in the room. If all goes well, and if the subject reacts positively, you'll be doing more tests together."

"Okay" Nikita had no clue what he was talking about. He was meeting a lady?

"You will be part of an extremely classified project, and will observe things that should not be told to anyone outside of our department. Other staff inside Diablo Canyon cannot know about this project unless they are part of the Experimental Nuclear Division. Even then, you must only report to me, or the other few personnel under the Human Pit project. Does that make sense Mr. Rovnev?"

Nikita nods. Uhuh yeah totally. He wasn't planning on making small talk with anyone else anyway. Just mind his business, sit still, get a carton of smokes and a plate of food. Sounds awesome.

They stop walking when they come to a big metal door. It's painted differently than the white hallways, with bright yellow paint and some very large, red words in English framing several red lights:

HOT UNIT: DECONTAMINATION SHOWER. DESIGNATED ONLY FOR LIVE SUBJECTS AND EMERGENCIES. DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PERSONNEL ASSISTANCE. DOOR WILL LOCK UPON CLOSURE.

He can read the words, but doesn't really understand what they mean, and why a lady might be involved. The scientist pulls out a key and unlocks the door, which stands 7 feet tall and about a foot thick. It looks incredibly heavy.

"Alright. I'm giving you this measuring device, don't worry about what it does, just if it starts clicking loudly, shout or yell or bang on the door. This is also the one room that doesn't have cameras or one way glass, so just be aware, we can't see you if something happens."

Danger?

"Uh... it's a shower right? I mean wh-"

Before Nikita could finish, the scientist scoots him inside and closes the door. The yellow, boxy measuring device he's holding weighs a few pounds, and emits a soft click every second or so. It's weird to hold, so he just hooks the handle into the elastic of his shorts.

There's water pooling on the floor, so he takes off his shoes. The tile is cool, but feels good with the steamy air. They must've turned the shower on for him already. Not going to lie, Nikita was pretty cool with this. They didn't have showers this nice in Siberia (or... many showers at all). And the water was going to be warm. Effervescent.

He takes off his tank top and walks deeper inside, around a tiled corner, then jumps back, startled.

Surrounded by a thick wall of steam is a figure, in front of the only shower head in the room. Is this the woman the scientist was talking about? The lady? His face flushes beet red. Why would they put them in a shower together? Hooking him up with a cute girl for science reasons?? There were a lot of things he didnt understand about Americans but fuck, they have been treating him so well, and he truly does not care why. Maybe he really is destined to stay here, enjoy American life with a pretty woman. Have 2.5 children, and the suburban house with a big pink bathroom, the whole deal. That doesn't sound bad at all.

Within the steam, Nikita can tell she's a bit taller than he is, with thicker arms and some markings on her shoulders and legs. She must be really fit, really lean. A total babe. She has longer hair too, which she's washing and combing her fingers through. Soap clings to her body, covering just enough...

Oh. He's been staring for quite some time. She hasn't even realized he's in here... He shuffles in place a bit.

The realization that maybe this is a little perverted, perhaps immoral, crosses his mind. He scurries to put his shirt back on. If the Americans want their scientific relationship to work out, he might as well act a little more chivalrous.

"Oh, they think I can't wash myself so they've sent a lap dog to watch me now?"

Nikita jumps. That was not the voice he expected from a woman. It was gravely and painful and scratchy and deep, like it had some commanding power to it. But also, like it hurts them to talk.

A moment passes. The lady-person slowly turns his way. The steam clears a bit for Nikita to see their face and- some flight or fight response hits his gut like a freight train. The whole lower section of their jaw, connecting from each ear to the corners of their mouth, was a grey, metal prosthetic. Their bottom teeth were also metal and exposed without lips. The rest of their face, the non metal parts, were a blotchy red. Long, whitish hair fell over their face, around their neck, and in front of their chest. He can see the markings on their shoulders clearer now, there's a little circle symbol- the same kind he saw on the door. Now seeing their face and arms, Nikita isn't sure if this is a man or woman or some third person. Not knowing that makes him feel strange, but not in a particularly bad way. He pushes that feeling away to think about later.

Nikita clears his throat but doesn't attempt to say anything. They stare at him like he's some helpless animal, like they were expecting him to do a trick or something. They speak again.

"You're not a scientist."

"H-How can you tell?"

"You don't know how to use your dosimeter."

"Oh uh-" Nikita unhooks it from his shorts. Whatever device this was, it probably wasn't working correctly. It's been clicking this whole time. But the scientist said to only yell if it's being loud, and it's not sounding alarms or anything so maybe this is fine?"

"No- not really."

"..."

They stare him down. Their gaze makes him feel tiny, like he truly does not know anything.

"Well. Speak. Why are you here." Their statement was more of a demand than a question.

"I'm... um- uh- I think I'm here to watch you. They want me to watch you."

They scoff and step forward. Nikita takes a step back. His machine clicks a little louder.

"Your accent... you're not even American, are you?"

"Uh-uhh-"

"Your voice... Russian? Are you a spy? A defector?" They come closer. Nikita puts his back against the tile wall. The clicking increases.

"What the hell are these scientists doing..." They mumble to themself. "You... this is some kind of trick..."

Nitia squirms in place and speaks up.

"I think they. Maybe they want to study how we are-could b-be l-lovers." He smiles his gap tooth smile. Ohhh maybe he should have not said that. They look at him absolutely baffled, like he's insane. Nikita is just now realizing the consequences of this. Also, there is soap that keeps sliding off their chest and down their leg and well Nikita can't help but not look there. And as scary as their eyes are, they are a pretty shade of green. Ough.

Something inside them snaps, and they pin Nikita against the shower wall. His little yellow machine is clicking rapidly at this point. Their hands are scalding hot to the touch, like the blood under their skin was boiling. They bare sharp, metal teeth. Nikita shrieks.

"This has got to be some trick- what do you fucking want with me? I've been doing your damn tests, what else is there!" Nikita squirms and shoves and tries his best to not get bit or hit. This lady-person thing is more of a wild animal than a woman.

"I don't know I don't know!! They just put me in here with you and I don't know why!!!" he says, shouting. They shove him to the cold, tile floor and sit on his chest. In all other scenarios, this would be incredibly sexy, but Nikita feels like he's about to piss himself. They raise a fist like they're going to beat the shit out of him.

"I-i just do what they say and they give me treats sometimes! They take blood and do surgery and I don't know why- I just get cigarettes in return!!" They pause.

"Just... I don't know- I come from Russia prison system and they treat me better here. I travel with rich Russian family who thinks I'm their little pet but they fuck off to San Francisco so I'm stuck here."

The expression in their face turns from rage to confusion to some mild form of pity.

"...They've been cutting you open?"

"Yeah, yeah on my side. See?" He demonstrates this by trying to tug his tank top down, but he's being straddled so the best he can do is wiggle a bit and gesture to his ribcage. They look at him inquisitively. Just under his armpit is a long scar, running a good 9 or 10 inches. It's healed over a bit, but thick black stitches are still pulling the wound together. There's some kind of thin, rectangular shape hidden under the scar, like something inorganic was slid just under his skin. He smiles anxiously.

Slowly, they get off Nikita and turn back to the spray of water. Nikita is too afraid to move, lest they jump on him again.

"I would learn to read that dosimeter if I were you. You don't want to be close to me for very long"

"O-okay. Okay." He scrambles to the exit and yells to be let out.