by Megan Alban
Sharla fought the urge to throw up the bits of orange stuff she’d just manage to gnaw. The entire deck lurched, rocking about. She clung to the bars, screaming at the figures running down the corridor.
The red haze that had cut off the room of her cell from the hallway, flickered, faded away. Another jolt came and she was thrown backwards, her head hitting the shelf jutting from the wall with a sickening crunch.
For a moment the world went quiet, and all she could hear was the thudding of her own pulse in her ears. This would make for a crappy late night movie, she thought. Virgin in Space. Probably a porno. Not even a good one. All it needed was...
Another explosion rocked the ship, and she wrapped her arms around her head. Was there a crash position you’re supposed to get in? Shouldn’t she have been given one of those stupid cards you find in the back pocket of the seat in front of you on the plane?
She laughed, and then shrieked as a new shape barreled down the short corridor toward her. It looked like a man, taller than any she’d seen, but it? he? was covered in some sort of tight grey fitted clothing, and an opaque helmet shrouded his face.
Without a word he took a laser cutter to the bars of her cell, slicing them neatly apart. He held out a gloved hand and shouted “Come with me! I'm here to rescue you!”
Sharla blinked. It was another language, she could tell, but still, his meaning was clear. But now wasn’t the time to think about the impossibility of that. She looked at his hand. Five fingers. Did that mean he was human, like her?
“Come on! You can either trust me and survive or stay onboard the ship and be killed for sure. Your choice, lady!”
Although she didn’t care for his tone, the stranger did have a point. Right now, he seemed the lesser of two evils.
She pulled herself free from the cell, and as she followed him down the corridor was thankful she’d worn semi-practical shoes for her date. Heels, sure, but at least with a strap across the top, keeping them on her feet as she tried to navigate around the pieces of debris that had fallen during the explosions.
The stranger turned back every few paces to make sure she was keeping up, and he sighed with exasperation as she continued to fall further and further behind. “Come on!” he snapped, reaching back, and grabbing her by the hand.
Great. Now snapped at and dragged through rubble and explosions, while being rescued from being sold as a sex slave by aliens. Could the day get any worse?
They careened around a shoulder and stopped cold.
Dammit. Why did she ever say that? It could always get worse.
Ahead of them was a small mob of grey men, blocking the way she assumed her rescuer wanted to go, if his muttering was any indication.
Sharla glanced around, as if an opening would appear from nowhere. A closet, a niche, somewhere to hide. Nothing. Except… on either side of the corridor were inset smooth silver panels, almost like elevator doors. And to the right side of each pair was a smaller, square box that flashed, just a bit.
“Here!” she shouted, and slapped one, just as her rescuer pushed the one at the opposite side of the hallway.
“No!” he replied as he saw what she’d done. Sharla looked around, confused at his reaction, but just then the door slid opened to a room filled with rubble. She felt the stirring wind, as all the air in the corridor rushed past her to the destroyed room, and started to slide towards the door.
He grabbed her, tucked her against his chest with one arm and pulled them into the opposite room with the other. Even braced against him, the force of vacuum tugged at Sharla, and the screams of the grey men as they skidded down the hall and into the gaping void echoed in her ears.
Once they were past the threshold he hit a matching panel on the interior of the room with his elbow. The door slid closed, but ground to a halt just as a sharp pain lanced through Sharla’s ankle.
One of the grey men had grabbed hold of her.
“Get. Of. Off. Me!” she screamed, his icy grip crushing her ankle.
For a moment she paused. She’d never killed anything before, unless you counted spiders, and then only in the house.
But right now it was a fight for survival, and the aliens had already proven themselves not to be particularly motivated by her best interests. With all the force she could muster, she stomped down with her free leg, driving the heel of her shoe into his wrist.
With a blood curdling scream he let go, and the door slid shut, cutting off all sound. Sharla and the stranger slumped to the ground, no longer fighting the force of vacuum. She gasped, trying to clear the sound of the dying man from her mind.
“The other door will automatically reseal shortly to protect the rest of the craft,” the man said flatly, breaking into her thoughts. “We’ll want to leave as soon as we can, before anyone else comes this way. In the future, try not to vent us, all right?”
Sharla bristled. “How was I supposed to know that was an airlock, or whatever it was?”
He shrugged. “You weren’t. It wasn’t.”
“What?”
“That wasn’t an airlock. That was the room I crashed my ship into.”
“You did what?”
He tilted his head, face still hidden behind his helmet. “Needed a way in. They weren’t exactly about to allow me to dock with the rest of the pods.”
“Then how are we getting out?”
“It’ll be fine. Just this time, don’t hit any buttons without checking with me first. Agreed?”
Sharla counted to one hundred, horribly aware she was skipping numbers as she went, wishing she could be as calm as the other guy seemed, squatting on his heels, staring at the door. At least she assumed he was. The helmet obscured his feature, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under there. Was he cute? She shook her head. Let’s start with the basics, Sharla.
Was he even human? Or look remotely human? For all she knew, another type of grey man, or some sort of snake man, one that just happened to have five fingers to a hand.
Iguana man. Gecko man. Would he have those odd slitted pupils that looked like a vertical row of pupils?
She fought back a giggle, but apparently not well enough, as the stranger tilted his head in her direction.
“I’m sorry, it’s been a crazy day, and I think it's catching up with me.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you’re tired. We’ll be out soon.”
He stood and stretched, and Sharla couldn’t help but imagine the play of muscles across his broad chest, even under the suit.
“Ready to see if it’s safe?”
She blinked. “Don’t you have a tool to test that? Sticking our head out into space doesn’t seem like the best way to find out!” Sharla was no astrophysicist, but she had seen plenty of science fiction movies, and had a pretty good idea of what happened when you went out into vacuum without a suit. Your eyes exploded, and things went south from there.
No way, not for her. Maybe her mystery guy’s suit would protect him, but it wouldn’t do a thing to keep her eyeballs in place.
Caught up in the ways her body could implode (or was it explode?), she didn’t resist when her rescuer pulled her to her feet and tucked her form tightly against his chest.
“Just in case,” he muttered.
Sharla didn’t mind. If nothing else, it was the one place she’d felt safe since this whole mess started.
He slapped the switch, and the door rolled open smoothly.
No noise.
No wind.
No vacuum.
Sharla’s shoulders sagged as she let out the breath she’d been holding. He set her down, and stepped out of the alcove, glancing both ways.
“Clear enough. Let’s go.”
She followed him, racing down the corridor. Two rights and a left, and they were at another door. A line of small ships, not much larger than the VW bugs she’d coveted since high school, were parked in a row, behind another shimmering red field, this one the size of the side of a house. Through the field she could faintly see a fiel
d of stars, slowly rotating in her vision.
Sharla felt queasy. Intellectually understanding that she must, logically, be in space, seeing the aliens, running through the ship -- all of that was all one thing. But actually seeing the galaxy spread before her? Something else entirely.
She needed to sit down. And get a drink. Not necessarily in that order.
And not yet, apparently.
Her rescuer leaned over one of the small craft, poking something, and the top half slid away.
“Get in.”
Without waiting for her response, he lifted her and settled her into the back seat.
But instead of following her, he pulled a flat package from a hidden pocket of his suit, and placed it against the wall, right next to the red haze.
Before she could wonder what he was doing, he’d leapt into the craft, and begun to punch buttons.
As they swooped out of the landing bay, Sharla closed her eyes. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Losing the fight with willpower, she snuck a peek from between her fingers to watch the view behind them. The alien craft looked like a massive grey skyscraper, laying on its side, with odd juts and angles down its length. Although silent, a series of explosions ran down one side, leading away from the bay they’d just fled.
She turned to the front, tried to peer around the broad shoulders of the man in front of her. He stared ahead with steely focus. “What… How… What did you do?” She looked behind them again. The massive ship was slowly listing to the side, as if wounded.
He grunted. “They’re faster than my ship. We need to gain some time.” He punched more buttons and the tiny ship slung between rocky fragments. Sharla wondered if closing her eyes might be the best decision, after all.
“I thought you crashed your ship back there?” In the room you didn’t warn me to avoid, she didn’t add, but thought it rather loudly.
“That was just a dory, a little away vessel like this.” He patted the metallic sides encasing them.
“So, once we get to your ship, then what?”
He didn’t answer for long moments. The craft came to a slow stop, then seemed to sink.
Sharla gasped as she realized they were coming to rest inside a larger ship. A long green and grey tunnel surrounded her vision, blocking out the broad expanse of the stars she was just starting to get used to.
The ship bumped, rocked, and finally settled. She listened to various hisses as he tapped out more commands, then slid the top of the small craft open. Apparently, they’d arrived. He leapt out, and reached a hand to lift her out.
“Then, we take you back to Earth.”
Sharla sagged at his words, but he caught her, scooped her into his arms and held her tight against his chest.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
She nodded, trembling. “I think it’s all been a little much.” She sniffled, hating how much she sounded like a six-year-old, and not really able to do much about it. She patted his arm. “I’m fine, you can set me down.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, but instead walked with her towards the far wall. A metal door slid open at their approach, closing silently behind them. He went up a short series of stairs to a small room. She looked around at all the monitors. Based solely on her science fiction movie addiction, maybe the control room for the ship?
He placed her in a soft padded chair, and turned to a panel of switches and buttons, doing something, she didn’t know what, but from his previous statement, heading back to Earth.
She sank into the chair, the trembling getting worse. She’d been abducted, threatened with life as a sex slave on some alien world, nearly blown up and then sucked into space (even if the last was partially her own doing). And now, it was all going to be as if nothing had happened?
Her rescuer’s hands stilled on the board. She couldn’t feel any acceleration, but he seemed satisfied. “Now I can get this thing off.” He ran a gloved finger around the neck of the suit, and a small opening appeared. Reaching behind his head he pulled the helmet off, and she finally faced him.
His skin was a luscious, golden color, his short hair shades deeper. Sharp cheekbones kept his full lips from looking too soft. And his eyes… Sharla jumped, realized she was gaping open mouthed.
When in doubt, go back to what you know. She pushed herself out of the chair and held out a hand. “Hello, I’m Sharla Davidson. Thank you very much for rescuing me.”
He stared at her hand while peeling off his gloves. “Kordiss of Clan Th’roi.” He shrugged, took her hand in his own, held it as if they were going on a walk. “You’re welcome.”
His casualness shook her. “Does this, those people, does this happen often?”
He ran his free hand through his hair. “The Nargest are getting pretty bold, but they won’t be following us for a while. I scanned their energy trail back to where they picked you up. We should be back to your planet in three days, maybe four.”
Her shaking only got worse. “If you take me back to Earth, what’s to keep them from coming again? The one back there, on the ship, he sounded like they knew about my planet, like they’d been there before.”
Kordiss sighed. He hadn’t really thought that part through. The job was to rescue and return. But she had a point. Was that going to be the game now? Wait for another abduction, chase them down, hope to rescue the woman in time, and then do it all over again? Someone was going to have to come up with a better system.
He straightened his shoulders. But it wouldn’t be him, not right now. Right now he had one job. Get the tiny female standing in front of him safely home, and in one piece.
One piece. Something tickled the back of his mind. “Before I came, did they…” now he was the one reaching for words, tangled in what he wanted to say. Damn the job for not coming with a few more cultural lessons, anyway. How was he supposed to know what was taboo or not? She looked at him, head tilted, and her dark hair fell away from her face, baring her richly colored eyes. Darkness, how had he not noticed her eyes before this?
“Did they,” she echoed, and then must have understood his meaning. Her skin darkened, and she looked away. “No. The one that spoke to me said they’d get a better price for me because I hadn’t been touched yet.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her more closely. Did her species have such a different standard of beauty? Perhaps he’d misunderstood.
“Hadn’t been touched by them?” His throat tightened, as he looked at her again. “Or, not at all?”
She shrugged, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning. “Not at all. They seemed to think it would make a difference.”
Kordiss dropped her hand and stepped back, mind reeling. Of course it would make a difference. For a completely inexperienced woman, there were some creatures who would pay anything. He turned to examine the control panel. There was no way to get more speed out of his craft, no way he could hide her…
Her only hope, his only hope, was to get her back to Earth, and hope that in the masses she’d be overlooked.
His heart told him that was a crappy plan, but he couldn’t come up with any alternatives.
He glanced back over to Sharla, who’d crawled back into the co-captain’s chair. The padded chair dwarfed her, especially as she’d chosen to curl up into a ball, shoes kicked off underneath.
“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping,” she mumbled. “It’s comfy.”
4
She drifted off, and when she woke a small light blinked on a panel on the wall. As she moved, it grew in brightness, revealing a small, cramped room.
She stretched slowly, feeling every muscle she’d strained during yesterday’s escape. And now that she was free, now what? Back to Earth, the same job, the same life that felt as if it was going nowhere?
All her life, she’d been waiting. But maybe, just maybe, that was a good thing. If she hadn’t waited, she wouldn’t have been taken, and then she wouldn’t have been rescued by Kordiss. She thought agai
n of his hands, sure against the controls, warm and steady as they carried her.
His care for her. His calm control of the rescue, the concern in his eyes.
A delicious shiver ran down her spine, and butterflies started to swarm in her stomach.
This was someone more than “okay enough.” Lots more. Was she really going to do this?
Sharla thought about the grey man, his flat eyes as they roamed over her body, and squared her shoulders. No more waiting.
So what was she going to do about it?
She sat up in bed. How long until they reached Earth? Three days? She ran fingers through her hair, combing out the worst of the tangles. Then she’d better get moving.
Sharla looked down at her date clothes, rumpled and stained now. Cream, silky blouse, not real silk, but not too cheap, the best she could afford on her bank teller’s salary. An A line charcoal colored skirt that she was glad wasn’t a pencil skirt. She shuddered. That was a clothing decision that might have killed her last night, not being able to run. Slightly battered shoes placed carefully at the side of the bed. A bit impractical, but she’d loved them.
Nothing that seemed like it would catch her spaceman’s eye. Besides, he’d seen her in that outfit, and hadn’t seemed interested. Maybe a peek into the containers still littering the room would give her something to work with.
A short time later, she padded down the metal hallway, looking for Kordiss. When she found him, her lips twitched, just a bit. He was head and shoulders inside a hatch of some sort. She cleared her throat. He didn’t move. “Kordiss?” Still no answer.
She lay a hand on his leg, and smothered a giggle when he jerked, apparently hitting his head inside the tube, muttering words she didn’t recognize.
And that was something else to ask him about.
He slid out of the tube, eyes narrowed, but flushed a deeper shade of gold when he saw her. He looked at her, eyes wide. “Why are you wearing that?”
She looked at him, willing herself not to blush. “My clothes were dirty, and I didn’t exactly pack for a trip.”
Maybe she’d made the wrong decision. The only other clothes she’d found were obviously his. She’d found a deep emerald green top, much like a man’s dress shirt, but out of smoother fabric than she’d ever felt. When she pulled it on it nearly reached her knees. She’d left the top few fastenings undone, further down than she’d ever bothered for on a date. This time, she wanted him to catch flashes of her bra, see the curve of her breast. She’d wrapped length of black fabric around her waist, to make the make-shift outfit less like pajamas.
