Chapter 8: Cymon

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Amisha sat cross-legged on the bed and rested her back against the wall which continually transmitted a faint vibration, like a ship at sea. Still wearing her uniform, she wondered what had become of the rest of her kit - body armour, weapon, radio, boots.

"My name is Cymon,” he said, pronouncing this ‘Kai-mon,’  "and - as I said - I'm what you would call an Alien. Now I'm going to tell you why you’re here.”

"I'm listening," said Amisha, feeling a small tug of fear in her belly.

"On my world - which is not very different from yours - we have a problem, a big one. Our birthrate has been wildly out of balance for several generations now, with male births vastly exceeding female births, resulting in a major imbalance between the sexes. To the extent that men now outnumber women roughly 100 to one."

"I could live with those odds," she said.

He went on:

"We believe it’s a genetic defect, but everything our scientists, doctors and geneticists have tried has failed to restore the balance."

He paused for a moment as Amisha took in what he’d said.

“I’m not sure I understand the problem,” she said slowly. 

"Think about it,’ he continued, "Think about the consequences of such a situation, on a social level and a personal one. Competition for every woman on my planet is such that most men - including myself - can never, ever even hope to have a relationship, let alone a sexual one, with a woman."

"That must be quite… difficult ," said Amisha.

"Difficult? It's impossible. It has led to fights, riots and a distorted society where one woman might have as many as ten men - sometimes more - to be little better than her servants."

Amisha lifted a hand to her mouth, trying - unsuccessfully - to cover a smile.

"It is not funny," said Cymon. "It's a catastrophe. The genders are now so out of balance that our overall population is beginning to fall. Before long, it will become difficult to sustain our civilisation.”

"How does all this relate to me?" asked Amisha, although the germ of a very unwelcome answer was already forming inside her mind.

“Our leaders proposed another solution. Since women were no longer available in sufficient numbers on our own planet, we would look… elsewhere."

As the full significance of his words hit her, Amisha experienced a sudden hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she could barely bring herself to speak.

“So - I - I've been abducted for - for - sex?”

“We are hoping for more than that,” Cymon replied earnestly, “I guess you’d say a relationship."

"Where I come from," said Amisha coldly, "real relationships don't start with abduction.”

"We understand that," replied Cymon, "but - as we saw it - there was no other option. We were desperate."

Amisha felt another rush of fear, but fought to keep her emotions under control. Stay calm, she told herself, keep it rational.

“Just who is this ‘we’ you refer to?” she asked.

He smiled. “You don’t imagine I’m the only one, do you? A ship like this needs crew. It doesn’t fly itself.”

Suddenly, her temper got the better of her. Fuck calm, she thought, fuck rational.

“Oh, now I get it,” she raged,  “I’ve been brought here to service the whole bloody crew - is that it?”

“There are only four of us,” he replied.

“Well that’s alright then. No worries. Just me and four Aliens to shag me when the fancy takes them. Are you planning to draw up a roster?”

“It’s not just you,” he said.

Her jaw dropped. “You mean, there are - other women here? You’ve abducted other women, besides me?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Including you - four.” 

© Adriana Nicolas 2014 

'Sacmis' (formerly 'Alien Abduction')Where stories live. Discover now