The Harvest: Taken

  11502 Addison Chase Drive

  Riverview, FL 33579

  Publisher's Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (or undead), events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The publisher has no control over and does not assume responsibility for any third party websites or their content. The uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

  Copyright © 2013 by M.A. Church

  Cover art by Lou Harper

  ISBN-13: 978-1-62757-068-8

  ISBN-10: 1-62757-068-3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  It was in the year 2050 when humanity found out that it was, indeed, not alone in the universe.

  They appeared without warning above the capitals of all major nations. The huge, menacing, and completely unresponsive space ships dominated the skies, sending the media into a complete tailspin. The governments of our world argued back and forth on what to do. But, in the end, they did nothing.

  First contact came within hours of the sightings. The question of what these aliens wanted prompted emergency closed-door meetings in Norway, held by NATO. Meetings were held by the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, the Union of South American Nations, the African Union, and the UN Office for Outer Space Affairs, among others. The media speculated endlessly. The talks lasted for two days, while the world waited and watched. Early on the morning of the third day, a news conference was held and details were finally released to the public.

  The name of their planet was Tah'Nar—and it was dying. Originally, the Tah'Narians had been an intersexed warrior race. Chemical warfare had essentially rendered them sterile. Many scientists from all over the world eagerly volunteered their assistance to aid the alien race. The benefits to our own world hovered foremost in the mind of every government official present at the meeting. The Tah'Narians required DNA for their harvesting program. Since we couldn't duplicate their technology, those males who were to participate had to be transported to their world, which, of course, triggered all sorts of questions from people. If these aliens were so advanced, why couldn't they extract the needed DNA? Why did humans have to be taken off-world? The story had more holes in it than Swiss cheese.

  After about a week of questioning, a press release from our government stated that the two strands of DNA were too fragile to be frozen and transported through space. The release claimed that the nucleobases—the four molecules that form the genetic building blocks of DNA—would be damaged and might even disintegrate once the alien starships jumped to star drive, the method used to travel through time and space so quickly. People, however, could be protected in ways that extracted DNA couldn't.

  Agreements were reached with each government—and boy, didn't that take a while—that these men would be returned to Earth once the program was completed. Here in the United States a lottery system was set up, and each young man between the ages of twenty-three and twenty-eight was assigned a number. Once a year, for the next five years, numbers would be drawn and a new set of one thousand men would be collected and escorted to holding centers. Medical and psychological tests would be run on the subjects, and, if they passed the tests, they'd be transported to waiting spaceships. Other industrialized nations followed our example and set up their own lottery systems. Word soon leaked that only gay men were being targeted, but our government vehemently denied this accusation.

  The media coined the expression 'The Harvest' for the times when the Tah'Narians would return to collect these young men. I was seventeen when the aliens first appeared, so my parents assumed I was safe. The final collection would be done before I turned twenty-three. I didn't fall within the guidelines the aliens had established, so I thought I had nothing to fear.

  I was wrong.

  Exactly one week before my twenty-third birthday, an extraction team showed up to collect me. My parents were distraught and I fought them, but nothing could stop them from taking me. I just knew somebody somewhere had made a terrible mistake. But no one would listen to me.

  "I'm not supposed to be collected!" Men in SWAT gear dragged me to a waiting van. One of the aliens stood off to the side, watching. I dug my feet into the ground, trying to halt the parade of their progress. Two human soldiers were beside me, trying to secure my arms behind my back, but I kept twisting and jerking, frantic to break their hold on me. "Listen to me! I'm only twenty-two years old."

  "Son of a bitch, stop jumping around, you little fag," the man to the right of me hissed as he grabbed at my wrist and twisted.

  "Fuck!" I yelled as pain radiated up my arm. I managed to get my other arm free long enough to get in a good solid shot at the asshole who was currently trying to twist my hand off. I busted his nose. Anger boiled in his eyes as he whipped his arm back to strike me.

  Before the blow could land, the Tah'Narian with the extraction team jerked the man away from me by the front of his shirt. Another human took his team member's place immediately, but I was too focused on the alien to pay the guy holding my arm much attention.

  The alien lifted the human completely off the ground and shook him like a rag doll, snapping his head back and forth. The Tah'Narian's low growls sent shivers up my spine as he spoke to the team member. And his strength was astounding. The man the alien lifted wasn't a small guy, by any means, and he lifted him with one hand. Then he tossed the guy to the ground, pointed at me and babbled something I couldn't understand.

  "I... I... okay. I won't touch him again." The team member stumbled back to the van, never looking back at me.

  Good God, the extraction team and that alien could somehow understand each other. Momentarily distracted, I didn't have time to react when another team member handcuffed both my arms tightly behind me. Someone on each side held me tightly, determined to march me to that waiting van.

  "Let go of me, dammit!"

  "Stop fighting, kid. You can't win against five of us." The new guard fastened a second set of cuffs higher on my forearms. "Plus there's that alien, too. You just saw his strength. The more you fight, the harder this is going to be."

  I slumped in their arms, the fight draining out of me. "What did that alien say?"

  "Basically, that you've been chosen by one of them," one of the guys from the team leaned down and whispered to me. "I'm sorry, kid. Never heard of something like this happening. No more talking or they'll gag you next."

  Horrified, I hung in their arms as they dragged me to a waiting van. I desperately wanted to ask him what he meant about being chosen, but after his warning, I was afraid to say anything. What the hell was going on, and why were the rules being changed all of a sudden? These aliens weren't supposed to be able to pick and choose. That defeated the whole purpose of having a lottery system.

  The trip was short and silent, and soon we arrived at one of the holding centers where the men who'd been harvested were inspected. I was led to a doctor's exam room. Two human doctors were there, along with human military.

  "Strip," the doctor snappe
d at me.

  "Yeah, fuck you," I replied in the same tone of voice.

  Five minutes later, my clothes had been ripped from my body and I had been slammed on an examination table. Only this thing had straps. My hands were tied down, as were my legs. A band across my chest kept me from moving much. I managed to kick one of the guards before he fastened my leg to the table. The guard clenched his fist but didn't touch me.

  "Bastards," I yelled, tilting my chin up, daring him to take a shot while I was helpless and tied to the table. "My God, you're human. Why are you doing this to me? I'm under the age limit! Isn't anyone listening to me?" Then I snarled at the nearest guard. "How do you sleep at night? Can you look at yourself in the mirror? Help me, please!"

  Neither guard answered me.

  I lay on the cold table, shivering from fear and covered in goose bumps. My balls were trying to climb into my body.

  I tugged at the straps holding me down, glaring at the guards. "I hope one of you finds yourself tied to this table. Maybe then you'll know what it's like! How can you do this? It's wrong."

  One of the guards had the grace to look away from me.

  My eyes shot to the doctor who stepped up to the table. "And you. You look old enough to have a grandson. How'd you like to see him here, huh, you bastard?"

  The doctor showed no emotion as he evaluated me. He took my blood pressure—which was stupid since I'm sure it was through the roof from fear and fighting—looked in my ears and then checked my eyes, nose, and throat. The last thing he did was draw blood.

  "Tell the Tah'Narian we are ready for the next step," the doctor said to one of the guards.

  "What?" Afraid, I fought the straps holding me again, not that it did any good. I wasn't going anywhere. "What next step? What the hell does that mean?"

  A tall Tah'Narian stepped in to the room with us as the doctor picked up another needle and came toward me.

  "Fuck, what's that? What are you doing? Why is he here?" I jerked as he placed the needle against my skin and injected me. "What was that, dammit!"

  "Their particular brand of sodium pentothal," the doctor answered. "Better known as truth serum."

  "What?"

  Within minutes, a feeling of total relaxation, tranquility, and happiness swept over me. All my inhibitions were swept away. I floated on a cloud of giddiness, not giving a damn about much of anything. Memories of pleasant times with my family played through my mind: hunting Easter eggs, trying on Halloween costumes, Mom baking cookies, Dad trying to assemble some toy and having problems, graduation... I didn't care where I was or that I was strapped to a table stark naked. I felt so good.

  I giggled slightly. "Oooh, you guys are so gonna be up shit creek. I'm under the age limit. Did someone call the president and tell him what you assholes did?" The first doctor left. I barely noticed a new human doctor entering the room.

  The Tah'Narian who stood near me wasn't the one who had been with the extraction team. I hadn't seen this one before. He spoke quietly as the new doctor covered me with a sheet.

  "Yes, he's much calmer now," the doctor said to the alien. "It's like being drunk. That's why he sounds like he does." The alien babbled something to him, and the doctor looked at me and nodded his head. "I'll turn the heat up some."

  This doctor often looked at the Tah'Narian, as if he needed the alien's permission to question or touch me. My eyes tried to focus on the alien. "Dude, you have the greatest hair I've ever seen. Can I go home now?"

  The alien moved to the table and patted my arm as if to comfort me, babbling the whole time.

  "I don't speak babble, man."

  "Let's begin," the doctor said. "Your name is Dale Michaels?"

  "Yup."

  "You are twenty-two years of age?"

  "Right-o."

  "You are the only son born to your parents?"

  "Yeah. I need to go home, man. My mom was really upset when I was dragged out of my house." I looked at the doctor. "Why did y'all do that? You made my mom cry. That's just mean."

  "Oh, Jesus. I'm... sorry, Dale," the doctor said.

  The alien babbled some more and the doctor's lips tightened. "I know that, but he's right."

  "See?" I giggled as I looked at the alien. "He says I'm right. Can I leave now?"

  The alien spoke again, and the doctor listened to him. The doctor's eyes closed in pain. "I understand." He opened his eyes. "Okay, let's continue. Dale, do you like men?"

  "Absolutely," I slurred. "I like men. Boy, do I like men. I like the way they smell, the way they kiss... the fact they have a dick just like me. Hey there, do you like men?"

  The doctor blushed. "Um, okay. Ah. Goodness, this stuff is something. So, Dale, are you a virgin?"

  I snorted loudly. "Man, my cherry was popped a long time ago. I ain't no virgin."

  "O-okay." Then the doctor looked at the Tah'Narian, who just shrugged.

  "Hey! Not with him," I snickered at my joke. Besides, like it was any of that alien's business if I was a virgin or not.

  "Ever had an STD?"

  My mouth fell open. "I said I had sex. I didn't say I was a ho. Of course I ain't had no stinking STD. I played safe, what little playing I did. Be cool, man."

  The doctor asked more questions. Some were simple—like my name, age, birthday. Then the questions focused on my sexual orientation and my experiences. Even as doped up as I was, it didn't take long for me to figure out the main thing the doctor wanted to know was if I was gay. The rumors about our government targeting gays surfaced in my fuzzy mind.

  "Okay, we're done," the doctor said.

  "Cool. Can I go home now? 'Cause, you know, I'm not of age," I mumbled as the human doctor injected me again. "Man, what is it with you guys and needles? What's that?"

  "Something to bring you down and make you sleep," the doctor answered.

  Whatever it was, it was fast acting. My mind cleared quickly, but I was so tired... and my body was heavy. As the fuzziness in my head retreated, I noticed this new Tah'Narian appeared to be overly interested in me. The doctor continued checking with the alien before touching me.

  I made my eyes focus on the Tah'Narian. He had long white hair that fell past his ass, and oval-shaped eyes. The irises were a golden yellow with slit-like pupils—like cat eyes. He had strange little symbols that reminded me of tattoos running up both sides of his neck. His facial features were human, though. His nose was shaped like mine, as were his lips. From what I'd seen in the five years since their arrival, each alien had small pointed ears set atop their heads and a tail that reached to the floor.

  He spoke again, and I just stared at him in bewilderment. Now that my mind was a little clearer, the fear was returning. Seeing this, he reached out and gently ran a hand through my hair. It was all I could do not to cringe. My wavy, shoulder-length brown hair and hazel eyes seemed to fascinate him. He babbled at me again.

  "I can't understand you. Please, I'm not twenty-three yet." Once again, I tried to plead my case, but it was a losing battle. Unconsciousness was slowly creeping over me. "Not supposed to be here."

  Just as my eyes closed, the human doctor spoke. "He said 'be calm, my chosen' in his own language."

  Darkness closed in on me before I could express just what exactly I thought of that.

  Chapter Two

  My eyes snapped open and, immediately after that, so did the memories of what I'd been through. I was conscious and fully alert... and I'd been moved from that examination room. I shoved my hair out of my face and sat up. I was in a tricked-out bedroom suite now. It was a decently sized room with a large bed. An electronic device that resembled a high-tech flat screen TV sat across from the end of the bed. There was an open door that led to what I guessed was a bathroom.

  "Where the hell am I?" Soft sheets rubbed against my bare skin as I sat in the bed. My heart picked up speed. This wasn't good, really not good. I was all alone and in a bed, someone's personal bed. All sorts of horrifying images paraded through my head as to why I was there, b
ut I wasn't sore and there wasn't any physical evidence, so rape wasn't a concern. Yet. I needed to get out of the damn bed—that was top of the 'do right-fucking-now list'. And God help me, I needed to get dressed—why offer up an easy target, after all?—and find a weapon.

  I had worked up a good head of steam when another door in the room slid open. There stood the same Tah'Narian from before. Now that I wasn't loopy from whatever they gave me, I remembered that these aliens had deeply tanned skin and were damn well tall. I wasn't exactly small—I stood an inch or two over six feet and weighed two hundred pounds—but most of them were bigger and taller than me, including this one. He had to be over six feet five inches of densely packed muscle—and my ass was still in bed.

  "Dale, you're awake. Excellent."

  The white-haired Tah'Narian slowly advanced into the bedroom with me, his movements cautious. My mouth fell open. Of all the things I had expected, and I had built up a horrible list, this wasn't one of them. My nerves actually settled down to just jumping madly.

  "I-I can understand you. But how...? Why...? Um, what do I call you? Who are you? Why am I here? I shouldn't be here. Ah, and where exactly is here? And what the hell am I doing in bed?" Okay, maybe I shouldn't have pointed out that last one.

  "Please stay calm, Dale. I mean you no harm. My name is Keyno Landium Shou. I think it'll be easier for you to call me Keyno. Let's start with the easiest thing first. While you were asleep, a translator was surgically implanted in your brain." He walked farther into the room. "It translates over ten thousand known languages."

  "You... you... you... put something in my head?" That was his idea of easy things first? My hand shot up to my head, fearfully searching for an incision as I watched him.

  "There is no incision. We have medical equipment that can regenerate tissue and leave no scar. I have a mirror if you'd like to see, check and make sure there is no scar." He reached for a drawer by the bed.

  Suddenly, it struck me why he was so familiar with this room. This was his room, his bed—and here I was, sitting in it unclothed and completely at his mercy. Fear slammed into me again as the implications of that sunk in.