Close Liaisons (6 page)

Korum smiled at her indulgently. “Of course.” He motioned to the waiter and relayed her order. “And I will have the watercress jicama salad and the shiitake parsnip ravioli in cashew cream. We’ll also get a bottle of Dom Perignon.”

Mia looked at him in fascination. She hadn’t known that Ks consumed alcohol. In fact, there was so much that she – and the public in general – didn’t know about the invaders who now lived alongside them. It dawned on Mia that she had the perfect opportunity to learn sitting across her at the table.

Feeling slightly reckless, she decided to start with the question that had been bothering her ever since their first meeting. “Is it true that you drink human blood?”

Korum’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, and he nearly choked on his drink. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?” A big grin breaking out on his face, he asked, “Are you asking if we have to drink human blood, or if we do it anyway?”

Mia swallowed. She was suddenly far from sure this was the best line of questioning. “I guess both.”

“Well, let me set your mind at ease . . . We no longer require blood for survival.”

“But you did before?” Mia’s eyes widened in shock.

“Originally, when we first evolved into our current form, we needed to consume significant amounts of blood from a group of primates that had certain genetic similarities to us. It was a deficiency in our DNA that made us vulnerable and tied our existence to another species. We have since corrected this defect.”

“So it’s true? There were humans on your planet?” Mia was staring at him open-mouthed.

“They weren’t exactly human. Their blood, however, had the same hemoglobin characteristics as yours.”

“What happened to them? Are they still around?”

“No, they are now extinct.”

“I don’t understand,” Mia said slowly, trying to make sense of what she’d learned thus far. “If you needed them to survive, how and when did they go extinct? Was that before or after you . . . um . . . fixed your defect?”

“It happened long before then. We succeeded in developing a synthetic substance before the last of their kind disappeared, and it enabled us to survive their demise. They were an endangered species for millions of years. It was partially our fault for hunting them, but a lot of it had to do with their own low birth rate and short lifespan. Just like you, they had a weak immune system, and a plague nearly wiped them out. That’s when we began to work on alternative routes of survival for our species – synthetic hemoglobin substitutes, experimentation with our own DNA, and attempting to develop a comparable species both on Krina and on other planets.”

A lightbulb went off in Mia’s brain. “Is that why you planted life here on Earth? Is that how humans came to be – you needed a comparable species?”

“More or less. It was a shot in the dark, with minuscule odds of success. We disseminated our DNA as far as our then-primitive technology could reach. We didn’t know which planets and where would be hospitable to life, much less bear any similarities to Krina, so we blindly sent billions of drones to planets that are located in what you now call the Goldilocks Zones.”

“Goldilocks Zones?”

“Yes, these are also called the habitable zones – regions in the universe around various stars that potentially have the right atmospheric pressure to maintain liquid water on the surface. Based on our knowledge, those are the only places where life similar to Krina’s could arise.”

Mia nodded, now remembering learning about that in high school.

Satisfied that she was following along, he continued his explanation. “One of the drones reached Earth, and the first simple organisms succeeded in surviving here. Of course, we didn’t know that at the time. It wasn’t until some six hundred million years ago that we reached this part of the galaxy and found Earth.”

“Right before the Cambrian explosion began?” asked Mia, goosebumps breaking out on her arms. It was public knowledge now that the Ks had influenced evolution on Earth to a fairly significant degree, the timing of their initial arrival coinciding with the previously puzzling appearance of many new and complex life forms during the early Cambrian period. But their motives for planting life on Earth and later manipulating it had remained a mystery, and it was incredible to hear him speak about it so nonchalantly, revealing so much to her over dinner.

“Exactly. We have occasionally stepped in to guide your evolution, particularly when it threatened to drastically diverge from ours – such as when the dinosaurs had become a dominant life form –”

“But I thought the dinosaurs had been killed by an asteroid?”

“They were. But we could have easily deflected that strike. Instead, we simply ensured that the necessary life forms, such as the early versions of mammals, survived.”

Mia stared at him open-mouthed as he continued the story.

“When the first primate appeared here, it was a tremendous achievement for us because its blood carried the hemoglobin. However, we no longer needed it by then because we’d recently had the breakthrough that allowed us to manipulate our own DNA without adverse consequences.”

He paused when the salads were served, and continued speaking between bites of his watercress. “At that point, Earth and its primate species had become the grandest scientific experiment in the history of the known universe. The challenge for us became to see whether we could nudge along evolution just enough to see another intelligent species emerge.”

Mia felt chills going down her spine as she listened to the story of human origins told by an alien from the gazillion-year-old civilization that had essentially played God. An alien who was munching on his salad at the same time, as though discussing nothing more important than the weather.

“You see,” he continued, “the primates on Krina were of the same intelligence level as your chimpanzees, and few of us thought that a species as short-lived as yours could develop a truly sophisticated intellect. But we persisted, occasionally stepping in with genetic modifications to make you look more like us, and the result has surpassed all our expectations. While you share a lot of the characteristics of the Krinian primates – presence of the hemoglobin, a relatively weak immune system, and a short lifespan – you have a much higher birth rate and an intelligence that’s nearly comparable to ours. Your evolution rate is also much faster than ours – mostly due to that higher birth rate. The transition from primitive primates to intelligent beings took you only a couple of million years, while it took us nearly a billion.”

Dozens of questions were running through Mia’s mind. She latched onto the first one. “Why did you care if we looked like you? Is that somehow a requirement for intelligence?”

“No, not really. It just made the most sense to the scientists who were overseeing the project at the time. They wanted to
create a sister species, intelligent beings that looked like us, so that it would be easier for us to relate to them, easier to communicate with them. Of course,” he said with a wicked smile, twirling his empty fork, “there was an unexpected side benefit.”

Mia looked at him warily. “What benefit?”

“Well, you see, when the first Earth primates appeared, some of the Krinar tried drinking their blood out of curiosity. And they quickly discovered that, in the absence of the biological need for the hemoglobin, drinking blood gave them a very pleasurable high – an almost sexual buzz. It was better than any drug, although synthetic versions of your blood have since become quite popular in our bars and nightclubs.”

Mia nearly choked on her salad. Coughing, she drank some water to clear the obstruction in her throat while he watched with an amused look on his face.

“But the best thing of all was our more recent discovery.” He leaned closer to her, his eyes turning a now-familiar shade of deeper gold. “You see, it turns out that there’s nothing quite as pleasurable as drinking blood from a living source during sex. The experience is simply indescribable.”

Mia reflexively swallowed, feeling horrified and oddly aroused at the same time. “So you want to drink my blood while . . . fucking?”

The corners of his mouth turned upward in a sensuous smile. “That would be the ultimate goal, yes.”

She had to know, even if the answer made her sick to her stomach. “Would I die?”

He laughed. “Die? No, taking a few sips of your blood won’t kill you any more than giving blood at a doctor’s office. In fact, our saliva contains a chemical that makes the whole process quite pleasurable for humans. It was originally intended for our prey, to make them drugged and docile when we fed on them – but now it merely serves the purpose of enhancing your experience.”

Mia’s head felt like it was exploding with everything she’d just learned, but there was something else she needed to find out. “How exactly do you do it?” she asked cautiously. “Drink blood, I mean? Do you have fangs?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s an invention of your literary fiction. We don’t need fangs – the edges of our top teeth are sharp enough that they can penetrate the skin with relative ease, usually by just slicing through the top layer.”

Their main course arrived, giving Mia a few precious moments to regain her composure.

It was too much, all of it.

Her thoughts spun around, all jumbled and chaotic. Somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, she’d gotten used to the idea that an extraterrestrial wanted to have sex with her, for whatever reason. But now he also wanted her to serve as a blood donor during sex. His species had basically created her kind, and they now used human blood as some sort of an aphrodisiac
.
The idea was disturbing and sickening on many levels, and all Mia wanted to do was crawl into her bed, pulling covers over her head, and pretend that none of this was happening.

Something of her inner turmoil must have shown on her face because Korum reached out, gently covering her hand with his, and said softly, “Mia, I know this is all a huge shock to you. I know that you need time to understand and get to know me better. Why don’t you relax and enjoy your meal, and we can discuss something else in the meantime?” He added with a teasing smile, “I promise not to bite.”

Mia nodded and obediently dug into her food as soon as he released her hand. It was either that or run out of the restaurant screaming, and she wasn’t sure how he would react to that. After everything she’d learned today, the last thing she wanted was to provoke whatever predatory instincts his species still possessed.

The Pad Thai was delicious, she realized, tasting the rich flavors complemented by bits of real egg. For some reason, despite her delicate build, nothing ever interfered with her appetite. Her family often joked that Mia must really be a lumberjack in disguise, given the large quantities of food she liked to consume on a regular basis. “How is your ravioli?” she asked between bites of her noodles, searching for the most innocuous subject.

“It’s great,” he answered, enjoying his dish with similar gusto. “I often come to this restaurant because they have one of the best chefs in New York.”

“I don’t know,” Mia teased, trying to keep the conversation light. “The salad and sandwich you made yesterday was pretty tasty.”

He grinned at her, exposing the dimple that made him seem so much more approachable.
It was only on his left cheek, not the right – a slight imperfection in his otherwise flawless features that only added to his appeal.
“Why, thank you. That’s the best compliment I got all year.”

“Do you cook a lot for yourself or mostly go out to restaurants?” Food seemed like a nice safe topic.

“I do both quite a bit. I like to eat, as you apparently do too,” he motioned to her rapidly disappearing portion with a smile, “so that necessitates a lot of both. What about you? I imagine it’s tough to go out too much in New York on a student’s budget.”

“That would be an understatement,” Mia agreed. “But there are some really nice cheap places near NYU and in Chinatown, if I want to venture out that far.”

“What made you decide to come to New York for school? Your home state has a number of good universities, and the weather is so much better there.” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

Mia laughed as the irony of her school choice only now occurred to her. “When I was applying to colleges, my parents were afraid that you – the Krinar, I mean – might establish a Center in Florida, so they wanted me to go to an out-of-state school.”

Korum smiled in response. “We did actually think about settling there, but it was too densely populated for our taste.” He took a sip of his champagne. “So I’m guessing they wouldn’t be particularly happy that you’re here with me today?”

“God, no.” Mia shuddered. “My mom would probably be hysterical, and my dad would get one of his stress migraines.”

“And your sister?”

“Um, she wouldn’t be particularly happy either.” For a moment, she had almost forgotten how much he knew about her.

“She’s older than you, right?”

“By nearly eight years. She got married last year.”

“I wonder what it would be like to have a sibling,” he mused. “It’s not a very common occurrence for us, having more than one child.”

Mia shrugged. “I’m not sure if my experience was particularly authentic, given our age difference. By the time I was old enough to be anything more than a brat, she had already left for college.” Her curiosity kicking in again, she asked, “So you don’t have any siblings? What about your parents?”

“I’m an only child. My parents are back on Krina, so I haven’t seen them in a while. We do communicate remotely, though, on a regular basis.”

Their waiter returned to clear the table and give them their dessert menus. Mia chose tiramisu – made with real cheese and eggs – and Korum went with the apple pecan tart. Somehow, in the course of their conversation, she’d managed to down two glasses of champagne, and was beginning to feel buzzed. The evening took on a slightly surreal tint in her mind, from the restaurant filled with Manhattan’s most beautiful people to the gorgeous predator who sat across the table from her, blithely chatting about their families. Mia wondered how old he was. She knew the Ks were very long-lived, so there was really no way to tell his age from appearance. Had he been human, she would have guessed late twenties. Her curiosity got the best of her again, and she blurted out, “How old are you?”