Scenes From Space

Chapter Six: A Dream

I went back to the Waseatryns' table twice more before the night ended. I collected the bug for charging before heading upstairs to meet up with Graham.

"You okay?" Graham asked as I handed over the bug.

"Yeah, tired," I sighed. I grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the shower. When I came out, Graham was reading through the transcript of the bug and writing up a report. I yawned, and my hand automatically moved to cover my mouth.

"Anything good?" I asked, dropping my hand back down.

"Not really," Graham sighed. He handed me his tablet to read it over for myself while he was in the shower. I scrolled through the text, looking for anything interesting.

Waseatryn One: Dameryn, that was a lot of money you just gave the girl.

Dameryn: I want her to sleep with me.

Waseatryn One: Pretty sure she's with one of the bartenders.

Dameryn: Doesn't matter. If I knock her up, she's mine forever.

I shivered and swallowed a bit of bile that emerged from my throat. He was right. Fucking Waseatryn laws.

Waseatryn Two: *laughs* You can't really plan for that.

Dameryn: You're naïve, Cafferty, of course you can. Poking holes in sleeves is a sure fire way to plan for that.

I set the tablet down on Graham's side table. I couldn't keep reading that shit. I got into bed on my side and snuggled down, hugging a pillow into myself. I watched my com light up. It was another message from Ben asking for a report. 

I sent back a 'Still Alive. You can read Graham and I's reports on the server anytime you want.' 

'Makes me feel better to hear from you directly,' he messaged. 

'Still Alive,' I responded and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

***

The ship's alarms blared and the purple skinned, four-eyed alien pulled back. He left the scalpel in. It was painfully inserted into my right arm. Red, red, red. Everything was cast in red from the ship lights, and the alien's eye's glowed the same color.

"Hmmm, I guess we'll pause this session, for a little bit," the alien said. "Don't go anywhere." He left the torture room. My arms were shackled above my head with the alien version of handcuffs. My legs were tied down the table with a series of straps. But, the alarm was going off and it was the intruder alarm specifically, so this would be a good chance to get off this hell ship. I did the only thing I could think to do, and rammed my left hand into the side of the table over and over again, until I was crying with pain, until my thumb broke, and I could slide my hand out of the cuff. I pulled the scalpel out of my arm and jammed it into the locked mechanism of the other cuff. It broke open with the sound of creaking plastic.

The clothes that had been stripped off me were laying on the floor. Not they were much clothes to begin with. But I pulled the ratty tank top and tight shorts on. I looked around for a weapon. There were surgical scalpels laying about, shining dangerously, and they would do damage, but I'd to get close to use them. It was my only option. I grabbed the biggest one.

The door slid open and I stepped out. Sweet freedom. For now. The metal floor was cold on my bare feet. The lights running down the hallway were an eerie red, blood red. They cast maroon shadows. I went towards the storage room where they kept all the stuff they stole from the people they kidnapped. I started to dig around for a better weapon and for my stuff. Shoes would be great. I found my phone and almost started to cry as the pink case slid open to reveal two useless pieces of plastic with my name on them. One of them had been used to purchase things, the other to make sure I could buy alcohol and you know, the government cared that I had my name and picture on something. My shoes were in the same box, but no socks or sports bra or anything else that I had on me, when a beam of light had pulled me from my run and into space.

The door slid open and I quickly hid behind a shelf. It was a guard. He was wearing a blue uniform with navy detailing down the arms and legs and the classic helmet over his head. I used the bottom shelf to lift myself higher and when the guard was close enough I jumped on his back and clenched my arm around what I hoped was a windpipe. The guard forced me back, knocking my body into the wall. Once. Twice. A third time. I whined in pain and let go. The guard turned, but instead of attacking, he just looked down at me. And that was fair. I was pathetic. My arm trembled as I held the scalpel in front of me.

"You okay?" The guard asked. There was no pause for the translator to work. The guard had spoken English to me.

"No, of course I'm not okay," I said, a step away from crying. The guard took off his helmet. He looked human except for his eyes. The irises were a sweet lilac and not a menacing purple or a a haunting red like some of the guards. They were so pretty. He knelt down in front of me and took my broken hand in his. He looked over the injury and moved on to my right arm where the scalpel wound was steadily leaking red rivulets. I pulled back from him. The touching wasn't painful but I still couldn't.

"Hey, I can get you out of here but I need to find something first," he said. I nodded. "I'm looking for a box. It should be labeled. Human Woman, London, 2695." I nodded again. I looked at the box that I had pulled down from the shelf. It had been labeled in a series of characters I couldn't read and a number that I could. I assumed it said 'Human Woman, Missouri, 9215.' I picked my phone up off the floor. These stupid alien a-holes had taken at least 9215 humans from Earth. I went back to looking for the box. There were thousands of boxes in here. I went back a few shelves, thinking that maybe the boxes were in number order. I clutched my phone tightly before storing in the tight elastic of my shorts.

"Hey," I said softly. The guy was next to me quickly, but he was on my left so I didn't see him. I jumped away from him and tried to get my breathing under control.

"Sorry," he whispered. I swallowed anxiously and nodded up to a shelf that I couldn't reach. The box was about the size of a shoe box. He opened it and smiled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen a human smile. He turned the smile on me and I returned it, albeit weekly.

"So how do you feel about me tying you up and pretending to escort you back to a cell but instead I get you off this ship?" he asked. His voice had a slight British accent. I winced.

"Not great, but like if you have to," I said desperately.

"I could hold onto you instead," the guy offered.

"Worse, somehow worse," I said and held my hands out in front of me. "Just not too tight please. And just so you know, if I end back in a cell, I will find some way to escape again and kill you."

The guy laughed, "What's your name?"

"Guinevere Hughes," I said.

"Captain Benjamin Barnes, Rebel Fighter," he said. "Don't worry, we're getting you off this ship."

***

Graham was shaking me awake. "Bad dream?" he asked. I rubbed my eyes and looked Graham over. He seemed concerned.

"Time izzit?" I mumbled and rubbed my fingers over my human eye. 

"Breakfast is soon," he answered before repeating his previous question. "Bad dream?" I threw the blankets off my body and slid out of bed.

"Some of it. Most of it," I sighed. I walked quickly to the bathroom to end the conversation.

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