by Jane Hinchey
A beep sounded from the door and I tensed. Were they coming back for round two? The door opened and a woman stepped in. I released the breath I'd been holding. She wasn't blue. She was human, her skin a light olive, her dark hair cut in an edgy bob that brushed her shoulders as she moved. Tall and slim, the white pants and white and blue tunic she wore were close enough to a nurse's uniform that I immediately assumed her to be one.
She glanced at me over her shoulder and smiled. I smiled back, relaxing further. I was safe. Maybe it had been a bad dream after all. Turning my attention to the bed I was laying on, I could see a piece of equipment that was a half circle attached to each side of the foot of the bed, and judging by the running track on either side of me, I gathered it was some sort of scanner that ran from toe to head. To my right, there was a large, clear cover that looked like it would span the bed and attach to the other side, cocooning me within. I was glad it was open; I wasn't sure I'd like the claustrophobic sensation of being trapped within its bubble. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just make out something around my head, reaching my shoulders on either side. Was it a brain scanner of some sort? Everything looked so high-tech and scientific. I never knew we had such a facility in Redmeadows.
Finished with my surroundings, I took stock of my body, noting with relief that I had no pain whatsoever in my back, where the aliens had cut me. But it had all been a hallucination, so of course I wouldn't be feeling any ill effects. I stretched, keeping a tally of any twinges of pain from where the lightning had travelled, but found none. I was totally pain free. Bonus!
The nurse finished up what she was doing and approached the bed, still smiling. She reached out, touched the back of my hand, and started to speak. All I could hear were the guttural noises from my nightmare. What the hell? Had I injured my brain after all? Was I still dreaming, or worse, hallucinating?
“I'm sorry. Could you say that again?” She must have understood because she repeated what she'd said, only it was still unintelligible. Holy shit, I'd had a stroke! Wasn't this one of the symptoms?
I shot up in bed and that was when it hit me. The view. Stars, glimpsed through a large, hexagon-shaped window. The moon, bigger than it should have been. A spaceship, clearly visible. Time froze as my poor brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. Again. Turning my head, I examined the room. I would have bet money that it was a medical bay, but nothing was familiar.
The woman started speaking again, but I ignored her, swinging my legs off the bed. Her voice rose and she reached out a hand, grabbing my arm.
“Get off.” I snatched my arm back and scooted out of reach. Just what had they been doing here, anyway? I ran my hands over my stomach to ensure my intestines were still on the inside. Check. Well, that was something at least. I was still wearing the white scrubs, only they weren't so white anymore. Dried blood crusted most of the fabric. I reached around and felt my back, sliding my hand under the waist band, tentatively touching. Nothing. No wound. I couldn't even feel a scar. But the blood was real, telling me I hadn't imagined the whole episode. The woman seemed to be agitated now, her cheeks flushed and her arms waving around as she continued her tirade of gibberish.
I took a step toward the door on only slightly wobbly legs, stopping when the woman shouted and made a grab for me.
“Back off, you crazy bitch!” I shouted back, evading her hands and kicking, managing to land a foot in her stomach and sending her staggering backwards. She banged into a trolley I hadn't seen earlier and it tipped over, knocking everything to the floor. That really got her going. She was back at me in a flash, her face outraged, screeching at the top of her lungs.
“Listen, you psycho, you're going to have a stroke yourself if you don't calm down. And don't think for one minute I'm letting you anywhere near me. You stay over there and we'll get along just fine.” That was a lie, of course. I had no intention of getting along with anyone. I just wanted out.
I wasn't sure if the woman understood me or not, but it was clear she was determined to get me back on the bed. Each time she dove for me, I evaded her. We'd circled around the bed a dozen times. The room was now a mess, as I'd thrown whatever I could lay my hands on to keep her away from me. Things took a sinister turn when she opened a storage cupboard and removed what looked like a gun, taser and syringe, all combined in one, and waved it at me. She kept pointing it at her head, then at mine. This woman was crazy.
I was so occupied with the crazy woman with the gun that I didn't hear the door open behind me until male gibberish assaulted my ears, followed by two strong arms banding around me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. I shrieked. Loudly.
He murmured something, more gibberish, perhaps meant to be soothing, but there was nothing soothing about this situation. I struggled harder, twisting my shoulders from side to side to try and loosen his iron grip. When that didn't work, I flung my head back, aiming for his face but cracking him in the chest instead. Damn, he was tall. He grunted, but didn't loosen his hold.
I stomped my bare foot down on his booted one, which did little except make the sole of my foot sting. I thought I heard him chuckle. The bastard! Swinging my leg back and around, I hooked him behind the knee and pushed back with my body, hoping to throw him off balance. He stumbled back, teetering with my added weight propelling us, before he regained his footing, grumbling at me.
Before I could repeat the move, his arms tightened, lifting me off my feet and crushing my ribs with the pressure. He shuffled us forward toward the bed while I fought for breath and to free myself from his grip. Adrenaline coursed through me, giving me strength, but not enough to break his grip. Damn, he was strong.
I'd trained with my dad and brother my whole life, and later with the Redmeadows Police Force. He shouldn't have been able to subdue me, yet I'd been unable to break such a simple hold. It infuriated me. And scared me. The nurse was standing on the other side of the gurney with the gun in her hand ... waiting.
As we approached the bed, I lifted my legs and planted both feet on the side, effectively stopping our progress. I thought I heard him sigh, but couldn't be sure over the screeching of the bed as we almost tore it from its anchor on the floor. The woman with the gun started blabbing again, waving the gun and pointing at me.
He stopped pushing us forward and pulled back sharply instead. My feet dropped from the bed. Taking advantage of my lost balance, he moved with lightning speed, slamming me across the mattress.
“Get off me! Let me up!” I tried to twist away and push him off, but he was a dead weight, his torso against my back, his thighs against my legs. I was trapped.
He gripped my nape with a large hand, pinning my head to the bed. I watched in horror as the woman threw him the gun contraption, which he caught with ease. When he pressed it against the base of my skull, my heart stopped. Dear God. They were going to shoot me in the head! Panic coursed through me and I thrashed beneath his hold, desperate to break free. I must have been yelling, because I heard his voice yelling back at me, but I still couldn't understand a word. There came a click. Tears ran from my eyes. A sharp pain. A startled gasp. Then nothing.
* * *
This time when I awoke, I knew exactly where I was. Still in the examination room. The brute who'd shot me in the head was standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. With his arms crossed over his chest and what could only be a gun holstered to his thigh, he was a picture of intimidation.
It was all I could do to stare at him, nerves kicking my heart rate up a notch. He was huge—maybe six and a half feet tall—easily the tallest man I'd even seen. And his build was just as threatening—broad shoulders, bulky pecs, and I could only guess that beneath his clothes he hid washboard abs. He was dressed in black. His jacket hung open, revealing a black shirt and a belt that held strange objects I’d never seen before.
His body was clearly built for combat, but I couldn't pry my eyes away from his face. It was a face that would be difficult to forget—chiselled, with hard lines. Mascul
ine. His eyes, which were currently narrowed on me, were dark and hard, just like the rest of him. In fact, hard was a good description for him.
“Can you understand me now?” he asked.
How strange. I could. I nodded cautiously, worried parts of my brain were going to leak from the bullet hole that must decorate the back of my skull. On the other hand, if I had been shot at point blank range, I'd be dead.
“You shot me!” I accused, still not moving, still assessing the huge man at the foot of the bed. He looked human, his skin a similar shade of olive to the nurse’s, his black hair cut short, a shadow of stubble across his jaw. My eyes settled on his mouth, on the arch of his Cupid’s bow and the fullness of his lips. Despite my precarious situation, I couldn't help but admire his physique.
“I implanted a translator. Now you can understand any language you hear.”
“A translator?” Gingerly, I felt around the back of my neck, searching for a wound and finding nothing. How strange.
“A very small chip that sits at the base of your brain. Echo, our medic, was unaware you had not been chipped, otherwise she would have performed the procedure before you woke.” He watched me with his dark, dark eyes, big arms folded across his chest, legs planted. Waiting.
“Right.” At a loss, I pulled myself into a sitting position and scooted to the back of the bed, away from him. His lip twitched.
“What?”
“What?” He responded, tilting his head.
Sighing, I looked away, to the window and the blackness of space beyond. So much nothingness. I slid off the bed and moved to the window, placing my hands against the cold pane as I peered outside. I glanced over my shoulder at him, but he hadn't moved, only turned his head to watch me.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“You are on the Acarnania Confederation ship Vespira.” His voice held no emotion and those black eyes revealed nothing.
“A spaceship. Right.” I nodded as if it all made sense. More silence. “How did I get here?”
“You were abducted from your planet by the Bellatania. We rescued you.”
“Abducted. Okay. Why?”
“The Bellatania are a dying race. They are searching for compatible females to breed with.”
I spun to look at him, horrified. “They ... they ... impregnated me?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “No. We are not sure what they had planned for you. We pulled you from the operating table in time, they had only just begun experimenting on you. Echo healed the wound on your back.”
I rubbed the base of my spine. I remembered the searing pain. They'd done more than cut me. But these people, this strange man and that Echo woman, didn't appear to know that.
“They didn't do anything?”
“You have been scanned for alien DNA and nothing has been detected. That is why you live.”
“What do you mean, why I live?”
“If your DNA had been contaminated with Bellatania DNA, you would have been neutralised. Only the females with uncontaminated DNA will be returned to their home planet.”
“Wait! Neutralised? As in killed?”
“Affirmative.”
“That's barbaric! You can't do that!”
“It is not for you to decide. Nor is it open for discussion. Enough talking!” He held up a hand to silence me. “Now you are awake and able to communicate, you must join the other prisoners.”
“Prisoners? But I thought you said you rescued me? How can I be a prisoner?”
“That was the wrong choice of word, or your translator has translated incorrectly. You are not a prisoner in the usual sense, but you must remain quarantined with the other women while plans are made to return you to your respective planets.”
He was across the room before I saw him move, my upper arm suddenly held firmly in his grip.
“Let's go.”
“How many other women?” I asked as he pulled me out into the corridor.
“No more questions.”
I struggled to keep up with his long stride as he marched me through a maze of corridors. We went down a floor or two in a lift that he activated with a wave of his hand—then, more corridors. I was pretty sure we'd gone around in circles a couple of times. To throw me off so I didn't know the way? Why? Just in case I planned an epic escape and stole their ship? Well, it was nice to know he thought I was so capable.
Finally, we came to a halt in front of two large metal doors, and with another wave of his hand, they opened. He pushed me into the room, no attempt to be gentle. I stumbled, rubbing my arm where his hand had gripped it, knowing I'd have a bruise later. The brute didn't even know his own strength. I turned, but he’d already gone, the doors closing behind me.
I scanned the room, this time noticing the long bench along one side of what could only be described as a large cell. Or a very sterile dorm. There were cots lined up opposite the benches; some women lay on them, the strangest women I’d ever seen. They were of different species, but not all of them were the same. A couple of them had a yellow hue to their skin, others a greenish tinge with what looked like scales. They all looked at me.
One of them spoke. “You are captured too, no?” I nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
“What planet are you from?” another asked.
“Earth.”
“Earth? But that is an old planet. Barbaric. No one goes to that galaxy anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your people. They destroy their own planet, yet do not evolve. They are—how you say—backward? Soon to be extinct.” The woman who spoke waved her three-fingered hand around in the air.
Blowing out a sigh and running a shaky hand through my hair, I plonked myself down on the bench facing the beds.
“Okay. This is all new to me. I had no idea other planets existed. Planets that sustain life, that is. Let alone other galaxies. I'm at a loss here.”
“Don't worry, honey,” one of the yellow-skinned women spoke, “it doesn't matter where you came from. What matters is that we're all in the same predicament. Kidnapped by those assholes the Bellatania.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“My name is Myka, and this is Talia,” she pointed to the other yellow-skinned woman. Both had dark golden hair cut close to their scalps. “We are Veludens from the planet Algira.”
“I am Telis, this is Romana,” the woman with the three-fingered hands spoke up. “We are Frixions from the planet Nabia.”
“Greetings, earthling,” a voice spoke in my mind. “I am Servalan and my sister here is Taya. We are a telepathic race called Minaria from the planet Sairi.”
“And we are Toshiko and Rayna. We are Tarsiss from the planet Luvendania.”
“Er. Hi, ladies. I'm Sierra. I'm human. From the planet Earth. But you already knew that. So it seems I'm the newbie here.” At their puzzled looks, I explained, “You all know about your different races and planets. I had no idea anything other than Earth existed. Or aliens, for that matter.”
“Ahhh.” Toshiko nodded. “Yes, your planet is far, far away. No one travels to your galaxy anymore. Your race is too far behind with technology. No space travel. No trade with other planets. It is true what Telis says—it is believed your planet will soon be extinct.”
“So why do we all look so ... similar? Besides perhaps a couple of differences, we all have two arms and two legs and walk upright.”
“This is why the Bellatania took us. We are races that are compatible. We have evolved over thousands of years, but our genetic makeup is close enough that inter-species breeding is possible.”
“But that man,” I waved at the door, “that man who brought me here told me if we did breed with the Bellatania, we would be killed.”
“That is also true.” Talia nodded. “His race is called the Acarnania and they have very strong beliefs. Each race must remain pure. If they come across inter-species families, they terminate them to stop the spread.”
“Why did they save us, then? Woul
dn't it have been easier to destroy us all?”
“Because an Acarnania female was taken. We were rescued because they arrived to rescue her. She is being kept apart from us. She is no threat to them. We are.”
“This all seems so ... barbaric.”
Telis laughed. “Isn't that what your planet does, Earthling? War and death amongst its own people?”
I didn't like to admit that she had a point. Instead, I moved to an empty cot near the far wall and sat, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, listening to the other women talking.
I wanted to go home.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hours passed. I paced the cell, stopping to examine the door panel more than once. I still couldn't work out how to get it open. There were no obvious ways to crack into it, no screws, no seams to pry apart. And I had no tools. But at least I tried, rather than sitting and accepting my fate, even as the other women giggled at my efforts.
Eventually, I admitted defeat. Laying on my cot, I stared up at the ceiling, my mind wandering to thoughts of home. How much time had passed since I'd been taken? A day or so? Mum would be frantic. So would my brother, Daniel. We were a cop family; both Daniel and I had followed in our father's footsteps and carved a career for ourselves in law enforcement. Two years older than me, Daniel was flying up the ranks. My progress had been slower.
I put off joining for a little while after dad was shot and killed in the line of duty. Not because it put me off joining the force, but because it shattered Mum. Her heart broke the day Dad died. She had barely been able to function for the first six months without him. I'd moved back home for a while, scared I was going to lose her, too. I hadn't believed it possible, but now I knew that you could, indeed, die from a broken heart.
I worried about how she was coping with my disappearance. I could only pray she wasn’t stressing herself into an early grave. I knew Daniel would look after her, that he'd be turning Redmeadows upside down searching for me.
I wondered what evidence had been left behind, if any. Had I dropped anything when I was taken? Was there any residue from the lightning bolt? Would they think to test it if there was?
