by Zara Zenia
Looking down at my body I saw my blue skin along with the cuts and bruises that were creating strange shapes and colors across my skin. There were purple bruises spreading across my ribs like exploding hibiscus flowers. I had to have some broken bones too. I could feel the way my ribs were fractured with every twist and turn that I made as I struggled against my restraints.
I'd been stripped almost naked with only my boxer shorts to hide my modesty and my tail. My skin had reverted back to its natural blue although I had gotten so used to seeing my skin in its modified human color that I was almost surprised to see its original cool-toned hues.
They tortured me in here—in this dungeon that I could only assume was the basement of a large organization. I was led through endless hallways going deeper and deeper into this place. Upstairs the employees of this company went about their day completely oblivious to what their bosses were doing down here. If only they knew.
My hands were tied behind my back, the blood pooling into my fingers and my face was beaten and bloody. The chair beneath me was sturdy and metal and no matter how many times I tried to turn it over on its side, nothing happened. It remained stuck to the ground like an ancient monument—the only piece of furniture in this dull, gray room.
I can't remember how long I've been down here. Without the daylight coming and going to signal the hours, I could have been down here for a day—or two or three. But I wasn’t scared to be left down here, not the way they thought I would be. Well, not as scared as I ought to be. There was still a knot of worry in my stomach as I thought about Victorinth, but I knew that secretly she was as tough as I was because all of Orban royalty were. We were trained from an early age to control both body and mind and even though we were taught how to be champion fighters, we were also taught how to withstand large amounts of torture in case we were ever held captive.
Some people might call this strange, others might say it was unnecessary and cruel but right now, as I watched my blood mingle with my sweat on the floor, I was glad I suffered through every minute of that training. It had been years since I had been subjected to the Orban torture methods but it felt as though it was yesterday. I remembered myself as a teenager, strapped to a chair and beaten. Cruel taunts were fired at me, psychological violence aimed to destroy my mental power. Then there was the electricity—the breaking of our fingers. But I recovered from it all and became so much stronger for it.
What they did to me in this basement last night.… Yes it hurt, yes I hated it, but it was almost an amateur effort compared to what I had suffered back home in the name of preparation.
Yet, there was something that gravely upset me. It played on my mind more than the physical pain and left me with a bitter taste of betrayal. It had been Orbans that had taken us from the rail car and it had been Orbans who had beat me last night. The way of the Orban is to stick together and support one another but the new ruler of our planet, Palzu saw to it that this natural trait would be systematically dismantled. He had wiped out any kindness that had existed on Orba and only wanted what was best for his empire. The Orbans who brought me here, they were Palzu's men—they had to be. No other member of my home planet would inflict such chaos and pain on another. I thought of last night and of the way they had hurt me. There had been a leader if you could call him that, an Orban in a suit who had seemed to be in charge. He’d hung back for most of the night until he grew tired and impatient. Then he became the most sadistic of them all.
"Tell us where they are?" he ripped off his belt and slapped me across the face, a stinging welt forming instantly.
"I will never tell you!" I spat at him, a large glob of saliva landing on his polished shoe.
He hit me again, my face searing in pain as the hard leather left my skin hot and burning. My friends, the people I escaped to Earth with, they were out there and they were in great danger. These men were looking for them but it seemed that I was their only hope. And, I would tell them nothing.
"I will never give you their locations," I proclaimed, looking up into the light blue eyes of the tall, blonde man in the immaculate suit.
"You are all traitors and you must tell us where the others are."
"No," I shook my head. "Never."
He punched the side my head so hard there was a blistering, white light out the corners of my eyes, then I was unconscious once again. The only reason I am alive now is because they think I know something. If they thought that I genuinely knew nothing, they would have dispatched of me straight away. The thought makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. Still, there was a certain advantage in them keeping me here. After all, the longer they keep me down here in an attempt to extract information from me, the more time I had to think and plan our escape.
I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I almost don't hear the footsteps that were splintering the silence. They came out of the darkness, soft and light. They weren't the footsteps of Orban men or even human men. Looking up, I saw a beautiful young woman. She was about my age with long, soft hair and a kind expression on her face.
She stood still for a moment, trembling and scared. I assumed that this was the first time she had met an extra-terrestrial and her face blanched as she looked at me. But her fear soon turned to tenderness when she noticed my injuries.
"Dear God! Are you ok?"
She hurried over and flung open her carry case. Pulling out an antiseptic solution and cotton wool, she started to dab at my cuts and bruises.
"This is terrible! What happened?"
I didn’t say a word. She knew what happened. I could see it in her eyes, that feeling of shame you got from knowing you had been betrayed by your own kind. It was the same look I had when I knew that Palzu was hurting people. But as upset as the woman was, she tended to my wounds gently with a tenderness I'd not known humans were capable of possessing.
"Thank you," I finally said as I watched her place the antiseptic back in her bag.
"You don't have to thank me. I want to help you."
If I wasn’t mistaken there was a hint of sadness in her voice, one that showed the compassion she felt for me.
"Right," she changed the subject. "Can I have a look at your abdomen?"
She looked close to tears as I leaned back and showed her the bruising on my stomach and sides.
"Jesus!" she gasped. "Your ribs are broken."
"Yeah," I shrugged. "I think so."
"Ok, so I'm just going to palpate along here," she began pressing down on my abdomen. "I just want to see if any of your organs are enlarged. Although from what I can feel they're not."
"That's good to know."
She looks up at my face and gave me a weak smile.
"I think you're going to be ok," she said as she looked me up and down. "You seem like you are generally a very fit and healthy individual," she prods at my muscular arm and nods. "Yeah, really fit and healthy, almost like an athlete. I'm assuming you'll recover quickly. I am worried about your ribs, though," she pulled out a notepad and began scribbling away inside it. "I want to keep an eye on your abdomen and make sure there's no internal bleeding."
As I watched her scribble I was a little overwhelmed by how lovely and sweet she was. There was an innocent quality to her voice, as though she really cared about me, an excitement that showed she was eager to be by my side. But there was a sadness also, a great melancholy that made her shoulders slump and her brows knit together.
As she packed away her belongings, she began muttering to herself.
"What the hell is going on here? This is crazy. An alien. I'm looking after a fucking alien. It's all you've ever wanted, Madison, and now it's really happening."
I listened a bit longer, trying to decipher what she was saying as she murmured into her bag.
"But what the hell happened here? They really hurt him, really beat the crap out of him. Why would they do that? Are they going to do this with other aliens they capture? Are they just going to beat the hell out of all of them? I don't want
that. I don't want that at all."
She stopped and looked up at me, a look of panic on her face.
"I just said all that out loud, didn't I? It's a terrible habit I have when I'm nervous, talking constantly, to anyone and anything, even to myself."
I found her skittishness rather endearing and I felt as though she wasn’t like the others. I leaned forward and nodded my head back as a sign that she should come closer. She leaned in.
"No, closer."
She was right up with her ear only an inch away from my mouth.
"I don't know how much they can hear in here," I whispered. "But I gotta tell you something. This company you work for, this organization…They're not what you think they are."
She pulled away and stared at me in shock.
"Listen," I pleaded. "You need to get out as soon as you can."
Chapter 7
Madison
"Right, I think he's all right now."
A hand grabbed my shoulder and I spun around to see Johanssen behind me with that flat, pale look on his face.
"I'd still like to keep an eye on his abdomen. He has some bruising and swelling," I explained as I flicked open my notepad. "And I'm worried there might be some internal bleeding."
"He's fine," he said with his hand still on my shoulder, pulling at me as though he was in a hurry for me to leave. "Your work is done for now."
"Ok," I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him.
There was something not right about the way he was talking, something peculiar about the way he was so eager to get me to leave. I kept an eye on him as I packed away the last of my things and slung my bag over my shoulder. Glancing down at the alien, I saw a tenderness in his eyes that I wasn't expecting. There was a softness across his features as though he wanted me to stay. He stared at me, pleading with his eyes for me to not leave him behind. Well, that's what it looked like to me anyway.
I give him a faint smile, an expression to reassure him that I would be back. At least I wanted to be. I lingered for a moment longer, eager to say a proper goodbye to the extra-terrestrial I was so eager to meet and take care of. But I felt a hard grip around my elbow as I was being led from the room. I tried to struggle free from Johanssen's grasp but he was unrelenting, his eyes fixed ahead as he made me walk quickly out the door. I managed to look over my shoulder and take one last look at the alien before I was pushed out into the hallway. I wish I had asked what his name was.
"Thank you, Madison," Johanssen said with his hand still holding my arm.
Gibson was further down the hallway, his stance impatient and his hands flexing in and out as though he was trying to ring the stress from his body.
"All good?" he asked.
"Yeah, she's finished. You can take her back up," Johanssen ordered.
Without a word, I followed Gibson back up to our department. He acted like a different person in the company of Johanssen. It was almost as though he was under his thumb, a subservient. Dare I say he almost looked like a normal person cowering beneath his boss in the same way we do with him.
"Thank you," I found myself blurting out as we stepped into the elevator.
Gibson turned to me and frowned.
"What are you thanking me for?"
"For the chance to meet…" I pointed nervously down toward the basement. "For the chance to meet the alien."
He said nothing.
"I was scared," I said as I looked at the mirrored walls around us. "Terrified even but he was a gentle soul."
I'm babbling, something I would normally never do in the presence of my boss.
I looked at my reflection and saw my tired complexion. My skin looked blotchy and gray, a sign that I hadn’t slept or eaten properly since the sirens began. The elevator bell tinkled and we stepped out into our department on the ninth floor. Life up here seemed a million miles away from what was taking place down in the basement.
Still, Gibson wasn’t talking. Which was unusual for him—he always seemed to fill the the air around him with his constant aggressive waffling.
"Sir?"
"Uhuh," he grunted without turning to look at me.
"The alien…"
His leather shoes were squeaking as he walked, the only noise permeating the awkward silence between us.
"The alien, he's going to be ok isn't he?"
At last, he turned his head to acknowledge me.
"You don't need to worry about that," he sneered. "Your job with him is done."
I didn’t like the sound of his voice. There was an undertone of finality that scared me. Would I even get to see the alien again? I had so much to ask him. In the shock of meeting him, there were so many things I had forgotten to say but had spent my entire life thinking about. Was there water on his planet? How far away was it? Why was he on Earth? Did his planet have war? Was he capable of feeling love?
"Here's your office," Gibson opened the door and placed a heavy hand on my back, pushing me inside. "Thank you for your service to the Trojan Group," he stared right through me as he spoke his practiced formalities. "Have a good day," he said and closed the door in my face.
Staring at the pine door, my eyes blinking with the surprise of having had my own door slammed on me, I wondered if there was a chance I'd imagined everything.
"Tell me everything," a voice came from behind me.
It was Bradley. Why the hell was he always in here, meddling in my business? I turned around and saw him sitting at my desk, his feet up on a nearby cabinet and a coffee in his hand. I noticed it smells like gingerbread.
"I don't know what to say," I muttered.
"Seriously?" he looked horrified. "You’re one of the first humans to ever meet an extra-terrestrial and you don't know what to say."
I leaned my back against the door and slump to the ground. Sitting on the rough carpet, I realized I'd never seen my office from this angle before. I could see beneath my desk and how dirty it was. There was a sporadic sprinkling of stationary under there that I thought I had lost.
"I wondered where that pen was?" I said out loud although I didn’t mean to.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Growing irate, Bradley stood up and walked over to me, clapping his hands in my face.
"Wakey, wakey! Have you been freakin' drugged or something? You're acting really weird, all spaced out and shit."
"I'm fine," I said, waving him away. "Just…"
"Just what?"
"It was just so crazy."
"You need some air?" he asked with a hand touching my arm.
It was the first time he'd ever behaved in such a caring way and the gesture wasn’t lost on me.
"Sure," I shrugged.
The Trojan Group offices have an outdoor courtyard. It was a fine piece of modern architecture designed with a false ambiance of being at one with nature. A place where workers could pretend they're out in the country and not piled up high in a skyscraper monument dedicated to the most technological ventures mankind has to offer.
"Almost feels like we're in my backyard," Bradley mused. "The garden in my parents' house backs out into the woods. It's real nice."
"Yeah," I sipped on an espresso and breathed in the scent of the grass beneath my feet. "You'd be forgiven for thinking you were in a state park."
"Yeah maybe."
I looked up to the sky. There was a patch of blue in between the treetops and just to the right of my vision, I could see the top floor of our building. It was as though it was competing for space in the atmosphere, trying to push out the environment with its modernity.
"So, are you gonna tell me what happened?"
I leaned down and picked up a daisy before plucking at its petals absent-mindedly. "He was really hurt down there."
"Who was?"
"The alien."
"Hurt? Like from the crash?"
"Nope. He didn't crash. He was captured and Johanssen and his buddies have been kicking the crap out of him all night."
"You're not bei
ng serious, are you?" Bradley's face crumpled with the same sense of misery I feel.
"I am. He's injured, pretty badly too. Broken ribs and a busted up face. I tried to fix him up as best I could, though."
"So … was it just the one?"
"Yeah, A guy. He seemed so nice."
"Was he like … us?"
"Kinda. There are differences, though. His skin was blue, a real rich cobalt that you don't normally see. His eyes were wide, with larger pupils than I normally see. They were much bigger than ours and he had a tail."
"A tail?"
"Yeah a little stubby one, like you'd get on a small reptile. About three inches long."
"Crazy!" Bradley drained his coffee and threw his paper cup in the direction of the nearest trash can. It bounced off the edge and fell to the ground. He ignored it. "Did he speak English?"
"Perfectly," I answer and realized just how remarkable that was. "He seemed so sweet and … I dunno, vulnerable I guess."
"Vulnerable? Was he a tiny guy?"
"Not at all. He was bigger than you, muscular as well, like a boxer. But they really did a job on him. I don't wanna know what they're doing to him right now."
"I can't get my head around this," Bradley grimaced. "Part of me thinks it's not really happening. That I'm imagining it all."
"I feel the same."
Looking at my watch I saw that I'd been awake for over twenty-four hours. A brain fog had descended over my mind and I felt like I could curl up on this bench and be asleep in an instant. I yawned and leaned back, my head looking up at the sky.
"Sometimes I forget there's a life outside of the Trojan Group."
"I hear ya."
"I mean it, though. My life, since I was a kid, has always been centered around astronomy and the possibility of aliens existing. It's all I've lived for."
"So this is everything you’ve wanted, right?"
"Well sure but … I wish there was something else; a social life, or even a love life!"
"Urgh…" Bradley ran a hand through his hair. "Love lives are overrated."
"Oh yeah?"
"Totally."
