Dhakhar

by Annabelle Rex

  If H’Varak decides to prey on this woman, I can’t sit by and watch that happen.

  “Let’s start with names, shall we?” the nurse continues. “I’m Crelin, I’ve been taking care of you. What’s your name?”

  He keeps hold of her hand, patting it, using voice and touch to draw her as gently as possible from sleep so she doesn’t have to wake up alone, frightened. H’Varak licks his lips, and I know I’m running out of time to do something. Mylan catches my eye with a subtle hand gesture, indicating that he’s prepared to take H’Varak down.

  Mylan, who has more to lose than even me.

  “What’s your name?” the nurse says again, oblivious to the knife edge we’re all standing on. “What’s your name? Come on, tell me your name.”

  The woman’s eyes remain closed, but her lips part. Her voice is hoarse, but the word she speaks unmistakable.

  “Princess,” she says.

  Chapter 4

  Charlie

  I open my eyes, only to pinch them shut against the bright, scalding light overhead. Confusion hits me. Because I can’t be in my bedroom with its ancient energy saving lightbulb that takes a lifetime to warm up to something even close to brightness. Besides, I wouldn’t have gone to sleep with the light on. Not unless I was really drunk last night, which I wasn’t.

  Was I?

  I search my memories. Everything after the pub is a bit of a blur. I remember drinking with Nat. Only three vodka cokes before Jason came over. So not enough to be wasted. Unless I got spiked, but…

  The sheets, too, feel wrong beneath my hands. Thin, not the delicious thick spread Jason bought me for Christmas last year. And the noises. The room hums with electronics, punctuated by regular beeps.

  Hospital?

  I’ve only ever been to hospital once before, but I remember the smell, the sounds. It was the last night I saw my father not in a prison visiting room, so it’s burned into my memory, whether I like it or not.

  The hospital staff called the police. They knew full well my mother hadn’t fallen down the stairs.

  I push my mind away from that night and try to remember last night. I remember Jason coming over. I remember him losing his shit with me. I left the pub and… He apologised. He went back to the pub after, and I started walking home.

  But what happened after that?

  I try opening my eyes again, squinting against the brightness.

  It doesn’t help that the room is all shiny and white, reflecting the light back at me even worse. The glimpses I catch between my almost closed eyelids reveal a clean, clinical room. All high tech and television hospital-like. The ward where the put my mother was all sound and chaos, nurses rushing back and forth, different beeps and buzzes for all the other patients, thin curtains the only division between each of the beds. This room feels private. I turn my head to the side, and there’s no other bed beside mine. Just a wall with a large mirror on it.

  A mirror, or a television? Because what I assumed is a reflection looks a lot like one of the bad sci-fi movies Jason makes me watch.

  Whatever happened to me, my brain clearly isn’t working yet. I turn my head the other way, figuring when I see the blank wall, the extra data will make my head start to put the pieces of the room together in the correct configuration. I’ll look back at the ‘mirror’ and see it’s a flat screen TV.

  Because hospitals have lots of large flatscreen TVs?

  My heart is pounding, and I’m… I’m afraid. Of what? It’s just a hospital room. I’m just in hospital. I might not remember why, but I feel okay. Still have two arms, two legs. Don’t even have a hangover. Just a slight fuzziness. I shift in the bed, rolling over, and…

  And I’m staring out of what is definitely a window at what is definitely some sort of space station outside.

  And then I remember.

  White light and the sensation of flying. Rough hands on my body. Fighting back as I’m dragged forwards. Kicking. Punching. Biting. And then cold. A cold so deep it stopped my breath in my lungs, freezing it in place. My head being forced under the ice cold liquid, a coffin lid snapping shut above me. Panic. And then…

  And then a blur. Maybe a vague memory of someone holding me, whispering softly in a language I didn’t understand. Was that real?

  A figure rushes into the room, and I realise the machine beside me is beeping frantically in time with my heart. I suck down a breath, trying to calm myself, but my throat just tightens and tightens until I don’t think there’s any room for the air to squeeze through.

  I’ve been abducted.

  “It’s okay, ma’am, you’re safe,” the figure says, his voice tickling at the edges of my memory.

  I should get up. Run. Do… something. But I can’t breathe. Blackness creeps in at the edge of my vision and I wonder if I’m dying.

  Wonder if it would be the best option for me.

  Footsteps, and then someone else is in the room.

  “What’s wrong with her?” they demand, this voice far harder than the other one.

  “Panic attack, Doctor R’Shaad.”

  A grunt, then rustling. I sip at the air, desperate for a deep breath I just can’t seem to take.

  “H’Varak will have an aneurism if anything happens to her,” Doctor R’Shaad says, then I feel someone take my hand, a slight pinch, then a coolness spreads from my hand, up my arm, followed by a blissful relaxing sensation. My throat and chest open. Air rushes in.

  And then everything goes black.

  When I come round again, whatever they gave me must still be in my system, for I feel light, floaty. The panic and fear are still there, but they drift out of my reach. I turn my head and see a person with yellow skin and green, reptilian eyes sitting on the chair beside my bed and I don’t scream. Just blink, holding my eyes closed for a count of three before opening them again. They’re still there. Still undeniably alien.

  “What…” I croak, my throat raw. “Where…”

  “Ssh,” the alien says. “Don’t speak. The medicine Doctor R’Shaad gave you makes your throat dry.”

  I wonder how they’re speaking English given that their mouth juts forwards, sort of like a dinosaur, with rows of sharp teeth and a tongue like a snake. They’re humanoid, but their mouth just doesn’t look designed to speak human words. Then they’re reaching for me and in the vague way the medicine allows, I feel panic fluttering round just beyond me. But their hands are gentle as they grip my arms, carefully helping me to sit upright. My head swims a bit, and when my awareness comes back, a plastic cup is pressed to my lips.

  “Take a sip of this,” the alien says. “It will make your throat feel better.”

  I consider resisting. They’ve already given me some sort of drug to make my panic attack stop. Who knows what the contents of the cup are. But, the pain in my throat wins out. That, and I just feel too… foggy to properly fight back. I part my lips and the yellow alien tips the cup up, bitter liquid rushing in to my mouth, coating my tongue. I swallow it down, desperate to be rid of the taste, and the rough edges of my throat are instantly soothed.

  “That’s it,” the alien says, putting the cup down with what might be a smile. “My name is Crelin. I’m a nurse here at Xentra Station medical bay. You’ve been rescued from a group of people traffickers. You’re not hurt, but you might feel a bit woozy and achy. It’s a normal side effect of coming out of cryostasis and the treatments you’ve been given. Nothing to worry about.”

  Another memory. This one of opening my eyes but still being in the cold, cold liquid. Of needing to breathe and slamming my hands against the unyielding lid of the coffin. I press my hands to my face, trying to shake the memory loose.

  “Are you okay, my lady?” Crelin says.

  “I remember thinking I was going to drown.” My voice is a rasp, but it works, and it doesn’t hurt too bad.

  “Yes, Captain Dhakhar did not follow proper opening protocols for the cryostasis chamber you were in.” Crelin leans in closer, and somehow, despite the ali
en’s frightening appearance, I’m comforted by their gentleness, and the soothing tone of their voice. “I realise how terrifying that must have been, but I assure you, you’ve been thoroughly checked over while you’ve been here and physically it’s done no lasting damage.”

  I nod. Crelin looks at me, expectant, as if waiting for me to have a hundred questions to ask. My brain is still fogged up and I can only think of one.

  “How are you speaking English?”

  “I’m not,” he says. “While you were sleeping, a small device was implanted into each of your ear canals that takes the sound waves of my native language and converts them into sound waves of yours. Lucky for you, your Human language was already in the Protectorate database.”

  I touch a hand to my right ear, expecting to find some sort of hearing aid.

  “It’s tiny,” Crelin said, making the face I think is a smile. “You won’t feel it. It’s also deep in the ear canal where it can’t be accidentally poked or prodded. Now, if you are feeling up to it, my lady, I’ll fetch the doctor to complete his examinations.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  I wonder if it’s a quirk of translation, or if aliens are just super polite, but the best I’ve ever got on Earth is ‘miss’.

  “Excuse me,” Crelin says, bobbing a small bow as they rise. “I’m not familiar with your planet’s customs. Do you have a preferred term of address?”

  Crelin’s slightly awkward formality is making me feel better, somehow. Like someone this ridiculously polite can’t possibly be thinking about eating me, no matter what they look like.

  “My name is Charlotte,” I say. “But people call me Charlie.”

  Crelin does another of his ‘smiles’. “It’s a lovely name, Princess. I’ll go fetch the doctor for you now.”

  He leaves the room.

  Princess?

  A vague memory swims up through my brain. A voice. Crelin’s voice.

  What’s your name? What’s your name? Come on, tell me your name.

  And I’d answered…

  Clearly I’d heard Crelin’s voice and in my woozy, half conscious state thought it was Jason’s. Because why wouldn’t I be waking up with Jason?

  Because you got abducted by aliens before you ever got home from the pub.

  If the drugs weren’t still in my system, I might have been embarrassed. As it is, the mortification just floats up to join the panic and fear, present but distant.

  The doctor comes, the same one that gave me the drugs to calm down before. He looks more Human than Crelin, though his skin’s a dappled grey and his features are harsh. Like someone took a Human face and pinched every curve into a sharp, straight line. He doesn’t have any of Crelin’s warmth, either, briskly conducting his checks and making it quite clear that he doesn’t want or need my input on anything. So I let him get on with it and don’t tell him that there’s been a mistake, I’m not a princess.

  And as the drugs start to fade and my brain starts to work properly, I start to think, start to wonder. Because the aliens have been kind to me. They’ve rescued me from the ice coffin and put me in this private hospital room and treated me and spoken to me with respect.

  Will that continue if they find out I’m just a nobody from a dead end estate?

  I decide to keep quiet for now. Feel the situation out a bit longer.

  When Doctor R’Shaad leaves, a trio of brightly coloured women rush into the room. One has yellow and orange skin, with bright orange hair. Another has lilac skin with purple hair, while the third is a soft sky blue with elaborately styled turquoise hair. They don’t appear to have breasts, or at least have very small ones, and their bodies are very straight, no curve to their hips or waist. All of them have the same sharp look as the doctor, making me wonder if they’re all part of the same species.

  “You’re awake,” Yellow says.

  “How delightful,” Purple chimes.

  “Marvellous,” Blue says, and all three of them smile the same knife sharp smile.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Doctor R’Shaad has given you the all clear,” Yellow says. “Time for you to get up and get moving.”

  “Get moving where?” I say.

  The drugs are almost completely out of my system now, allowing me to feel fear and panic again. They don’t come on as strong as they first did, but I’m definitely wary.

  The three women just giggle, and Purple pulls back my bedsheets, while Blue gestures for me to get up. She doesn’t reach out to help me, even as I have to brace my weight on a cabinet beside the bed, my legs wobbly and weak. Lightheadedness rushes through me, but it’s not like the drugs. My mind feels clear, just overcome by the effort of standing.

  “Oh, you’ve gone very pale,” Blue says. “Perhaps you are a little bit colourful after all.”

  “Come,” Yellow says, gesturing at the door. “Follow us.”

  They lead me out of the room. With each step I take, my legs remember a little better how to work, and soon I’m keeping pace with the women as they lead me out of the hospital area and into the rest of the station. Xentra Station, Crelin had called it. It looks exactly like the space stations of the movies - all sleek, clean lines. Modern and spacious. There are other people walking round - all of them bright and colourful and sharp looking. They all stop and stare at me as I walk past.

  How ugly I must look to them with my rounded butt and boobs.

  “Here we are,” Blue says, arriving at a door, raising her hand to a panel beside it. A green light flashes and the door slides open. Blue heads in and Purple and Yellow gesture for me to follow.

  The fear flares in my gut again. They’re taking me somewhere, but for what purpose? I don’t think they have any malicious intent, don’t get any bad vibes. But I’m used to reading Humans, not whatever species these three are. How would I know if their smile actually means they’re thinking of killing me.

  They think you’re a princess, I remind myself, glad now that I hadn’t corrected that little misunderstanding. It had to give me some protection, right?

  Yellow gestures again, a hint of impatience in her face. I don’t have much choice, so I head into the room, wondering if I could take all three of them in a fight if I had to. They don’t look up to much, and they’re about my size. But I’m weak, and they outnumber me, and even if by some miracle I managed to win, then what? I’m still trapped on a space station somewhere God only knows where.

  Then Blue flicks a light on and I stop, jaw dropping.

  Blue giggles. “You like them?”

  Dresses. Lots and lots of dresses. All of them gorgeous. I feel like I’ve stepped out of Jason’s boring sci-fi movies into a Disney Princess one. Layers of silk and lace and tulle - or whatever the alien equivalent is - surround me. And glitter. So much glitter. Every single dress I see is intricate and ridiculous, the skirts enormous like a proper Cinderella ballgown, and I feel like a princess just standing next to them.

  “Which would you like to wear?” Purple asks.

  “All of them?” I say.

  The trio giggle again, then launch into a discussion about the dresses - the merits of large sleeves, and whether the colour blue or green would better suit my skin. They take the dresses down off their hangers and bring them to me, making me hold them up against myself then studying me, nodding or shaking their heads.

  “This one,” Purple says at last. “This is definitely the one.”

  She’s holding up a dress of purple and green - soft pastel tones that look natural, like the dress is supposed to call to mind a garden, or perhaps an enchanted forest. The bodice is so detailed, and the skirts flare out wide.

  When I marry Jason, I want it to be in a dress like this, I think.

  The thought makes me miss him. Between nearly drowning, waking up on a space station and recovering from the effects of the drugs I’ve been given, I haven’t had a spare moment to give him much thought. It’s normal, I tell myself, not to wake up immediately mis
sing him. As far as my brain knows, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I saw him last and I regularly go longer than that without seeing him.

  Less than twenty-four hours to my brain. But exactly how long had it been actually? Space documentaries aren’t my favourite, but between the few I’ve seen and the copious number of bad sci-fi movies I’ve watched with Jason, I’ve picked up a few things. One of those things being that space is big. Like, really, really big. How long has it taken me to cross the stars from Earth to here? A few days? A thousand years?

  Is everything and everyone I ever knew gone?

  No. They can’t be. I have to get home. I have to get back to Nat, to Jason.

  I stuff the worries down in the back of my mind to deal with later. I have to concentrate on this… situation. For now.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, stroking the dress, and my voice only cracks a little.

  The three women giggle again. I look at their own clothes - gorgeous, but more demure, less voluminous than any of the dresses in this room. I wonder if they ever wear dresses like the one I’m holding, or if this sort of clothing is reserved for the really rich and important people.

  They guide towards the back of the room, where a small changing area is staffed by another girl dressed entirely in black clothes with no ornamentation.

  “Girl,” Yellow says, thrusting the dress at her. “Help the princess in to her dress.”

  I have a microsecond to feel uncomfortable about Yellow’s manner, before the assistant snaps the curtain shut behind me and begins to strip me out of my clothes. Not just my jeans and t-shirt, either. She removes my underwear, too, tossing it into a basket with the rest of my clothes. Her eyes widen a bit as she looks me up and down, her gaze snagging on my breasts for a moment, then she leaves me standing there, stark naked, while she rummages through some drawers. She returns to me a moment later with some panties, and I slip them on, grateful for the hint of modesty they give me. Then she slips what looks like a corset around my chest, pulling it so tight I can barely breathe, my boobs squashed flat beneath it. I nearly protest, but I think of the women outside and their lack of chest. The assistant is making me look like them. They must be what aliens consider beautiful.