《Abducted to Another Dimension》


 1 - Dissection

    A man laid on its back, strapped to a stainless steel table.


    A human man lied on its back allowing easy access to the pink fleshy skin on his abdomen and stomach. Its coarse hair stood on end, though whether that was from fright or the cold air the doctor could not tell.


    He had no way of knowing, he supposed it could be an adrenal response. Many animals would puff up their down as a method of looking larger and more physically intimidating in response to fear.


    Just over a dozen humans had passed through this room before this one ended up on the table. Seven females, and six males had been taken from the cell block one at a time and never came back.


    This would be the seventh male, an equal sample size of each. With the medical data collected they would then be able to make a sound assumption on whether human slaves would be a good investment or not.


    He selected his tools and prepared for documentation.


    ¡°Audio log, two-seven-one. The human appears to have only lost four kilograms from his time in captivity as annotated, this would hint at a lower than average caloric intake for its size. Though it could just as easily be due to outside factors and should warrant its own study. As for now I merely document tissue samples and information on how to best treat-¡±


    A speaker chimed, and the doctor paused the audio log and clicked his tongue.


    ¡°Sub in two. Sub in two.¡± The speaker repeated the warning multiple times as protocol dictated.


    He checked the time and sighed, he was running almost two hours behind schedule and was about to get further delayed by the coming subspace jump. While it wasn¡¯t critical, you were expected to be seated and not perform delicate tasks when entering subspace, as it often caused slight problems with the vessel¡¯s artificial gravity, resulting in a few seconds of slight shaking.


    Instead of performing a dissection, he sat in a chair designed to incorporate someone with a tail and opened the current file they had on pink hairless apes.


    Humans weren¡¯t particularly strong, though they did seem to be capable of long workdays. Their diets weren¡¯t incredibly demanding, either. It was likely they could form the bulk of cheap labor in a factory or sweatshop setting. Turning this planet into an industrial hub could make them rich and allow for settlement in nearby systems.


    He fingered the data pad and began reading through his collective report. You had to double check for simple mistakes such as spelling errors or people would mock the accuracy of your findings. No one wanted to be the person to misplace a decimal point and spread a file into circulation that told everyone a species ate three thousand percent as much as standard.


    In his head he compared a few numbers. The standard for an optimal slave was just over a meter tall, more than capable of simple labors such as creating trade goods in mass, and eating a small fraction of what a normal-sized species would eat. You simply mixed a few larger creatures in to do the heavy lifting. In comparison, a few humans could likely perform both tasks singlehandedly¡­


    It wouldn¡¯t quite maximize profits; most workers would be chained to their tables and thus should not need to be capable of feats of strength. Therefore, the added consumption rate would be a net negative. The true profit was from the fact that these humans were just standing there, free for the taking.


    You would not need to purchase these workers from anyone. In a year or two him and his crew could come back with enough ships to bombard the major population centers, destroy all military outposts and seize control of the food production. The creatures would then be forced into servitude and pay the costs of conquest back within the year. A simple plan; the humans were already there, thus there would be no import or breeding costs, allowing for one sided profits.


    He tightened his grip on the data-pad as the ship began to shake. Although the ship would not enter subspace for longer than an instant, it was enough to jostle everyone around somewhat as it played havoc on the ship¡¯s stabilizers. The tools arranged next to the human clattered against their metallic tray, and the human shrieked like a scared, primitive animal. The doctor tightened his grip on his chair as he waited for the ship to compensate for the sudden changes.


    The shaking continued, similar to a small earthquake, and then grew.


    A metallic medical tray fell off of its table throwing the tools onto the ground. He watched a plate of food slowly tremble to the edge of the counter before flipping off the side and splattering on the white tile. The human had begun hyperventilating, and the doctor hoped the creature would pass out and make less noise.


    Then the shaking stopped as suddenly as it had started. He felt at his chair¡¯s armrests for a moment before placing his feet back onto the ground and standing. That jump had tossed everything in his lab onto the ground; it had likely been one of the worst stabilization failures he had ever seen. Normally, it would simply vibrate the ship somewhat as the ship realigned and clatter some silverware against each other.


    ¡°I wonder if anyone got injured? Something could have fallen off of a shelf and landed on someone.¡±


    He should activate coms and ask if anyone needed a doctor, so he let go of the chair and felt himself float away from the floor and began to drift through the air for seemingly no rhyme or reason.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    That was when he began to realize that something had gone wrong. The ship had not taken too long to realign its artificial gravity; it had not realigned them at all. For whatever reason there was now no gravity on the ship.


    ¡°Impossible.¡± The doctor muttered.


    The artificial gravity was created through the shape of the ship itself, it resembled a large spinning cylinder and the centrifugal force kept everyone anchored onto the insides. The only way that the gravity could have stopped is if it had stopped spinning in its entirety.


    Was there something wrong with the engines?


    He felt a sudden sense of urgency. A possible person injured was one thing, but the ship malfunctioning could leave them stranded in the void. It could be a death sentence to them all.


    The doctor hit the ceiling and pushed himself towards his com unit, a small box attached to the wall with a detachable communicator. Everyone had personal devices but those could not connect to the ship¡¯s official channels, they didn¡¯t want people using the limited bandwidth to play games.


    He grabbed the small device and held it like a radio, ¡°This is Medical Officer Drath. Situation?¡±


    The pause was long enough that he began to dread the worst case scenario, before the comms unit sparked, ¡°Medical Officer Drath, location?¡±


    ¡°Medical.¡± He answered.


    ¡°Understood, await escort.¡±


    ¡°Escort?¡± The doctor stood dumbfounded. ¡°Escort for what?¡±


    ¡°Reports of-¡±


    The comms unit cut off, he paused for a moment looking between the handset and the small square box attached to the wall. There were no longer small glowing lights symbolizing that power was running through the device; it had faced some sort of malfunction.


    For a moment he wanted to curse out corporate greed, embezzlement, everything he could think of. Someone had obviously cut corners or failed to properly inspect this ship for damage, but he held his tongue. This ship wasn¡¯t that old, and someone was coming to escort him. Keeping valuable personnel such as medical officers safe was a textbook response to a threat.


    Sabotage. Someone must be damaging this ship from within. If rebels were on board he needed to remain quiet to avoid detection. It was standard procedure, only the trained military or police units would search out the enemies.


    He pushed himself off of the wall, drifting helplessly for a moment before he could catch himself on the opposite bulkhead and scramble behind some furniture that was bolted to the floor. A hiding place, so that he at least wasn¡¯t floating out in the open. For a minute or two he sat, listening to the natural hum of the ship, the sounds of the ventilation pushing precious air back and forth, the sounds of the human as they went from hyperventilating to whimpering.


    The doctor wondered if the quiet cries of that creature would attract attention, surely the metallic walls were thick enough to keep the sounds within the room?


    He eyed his tools strewn across the room, more particularly the scalpel that was now lodged in the cushion of a chair a few feet from him. It would be a simple manner to slice some of the human¡¯s arteries and render it silent so as to completely avoid suspicion. But as of right now, the doctor was hidden from direct sight behind one of the many medical beds in this room. He managed to remain obscured by cloth and machinery to any cursory glances from untold villains lurking in the halls.


    If there was gravity he could run over, slice through the restrained human¡¯s neck and then be back here before you could count to five. But he did not have confidence in his zero-gravity maneuvering, and there was a good chance of injuring himself if he carried a sharp object while bouncing off of the walls and furniture. He was a doctor, not some sort of boarding marine.


    The doctor took a glance between the door and the human, and then sat in stunned silence.


    A trickle of the creature¡¯s red blood dribbled out from his chest, leaking across his side and onto the bed next to him.


    Curiosity got the better of the medical professional, how had he even managed to be injured? The doctor hadn¡¯t seen anything fly up into the air, had some form of shrapnel nicked him?


    He slowly raised his head, alternating between the door and the human. Just a quick glance told him that this injury was far more than the result of a piece of shrapnel. A pattern spiderwebbed across his chest, pushing more scarlet fluid out and across his body out with every beat of his heart.


    It looked deliberate. How had something criss crossed so many neat little lines onto the human flesh while he wasn¡¯t looking?


    Was there someone else in the room? Hiding just like him? His primal fears were as exaggerated as they were preposterous. Nothing could have opened the door silently enough that he could have missed it. Surely there had to be another explanation.


    The doctor crept forwards, using his hands to climb up the floor like a vertical surface. He gripped the leg of a bed and used that to leverage himself upwards to a chair. Using the pipes connected to a sink to push ahead further until he could finally latch onto the legs of the slab restraining the human.


    He pushed his weightless body up, looking over the sprawled human form. The male breathed in and out, barely suppressing his pain and fear. A simple glance at the pattern dispelled any guess that this could have been a natural occurrence from floating tools unrestrained by gravity.


    Upon the soft flesh of the human a perfect circle surrounded a star, a neatly carved six-pointed star that held a smaller seven-pointed star within its center. Small symbols were cut into each point on both shapes. The blood did not cling to his skin in any way that would cover this image, and continued to flow away from the body into the air. The liquid misplaced itself due to the lack of gravity like everything else.


    The human stared at the doctor, eyes wide at the alien creature. It seemed too scared to make a noise at this point.


    The doctor traced a clawed finger along the ridges of the wound even as the human shrank back from the pain. It was cleanly cut, like from a scalpel or a razor. No shrapnel could make a mark like this. Maybe a few gashes in a pattern, but a perfect circle? No, no knife or saw that was propelled only by the failures of this space station at least.


    And if this couldn¡¯t have happened by accident, the doctor glanced back at the human¡¯s face and stared at his eyes. The eyes of captured prey looking upon its death, the face of something so far beyond horror that the adrenaline had muted all emotion. It stared to the doctor, no-


    Past the doctor¡¯s shoulder.


    The doctor froze in horror for a moment, then turned to see what it was that had caught the human¡¯s eye.


    And never regretted any decision as much in his entire life.


    ~


    I closed my eyes, and tried to hide myself from the screams as best I could while strapped to this table.


    Naked and exposed, I laid waiting for my turn. For that horrible creature to finish with my captor and then turn to me.


    Seconds turned to minutes as I waited until the lizard-thing¡¯s voice grew so hoarse from screaming that it could no longer make sound. I laid and listened until the crunching and begging and laughter turned to silence. I refused to open my eyes until the blood on my chest dried and turned to scabs, and even then I prayed I would see nothing when I opened them.


    Across the room the alien stood. The one who had strapped me to this table. Green scales under white robes that were designed to easily highlight stains and foreign contaminants. Only it wasn¡¯t them, they were distorted. Its limbs were stretched and hung limp as if torn from their sockets. It stood taller and thinner than it had before, like something else was inside of its fragile shell and distorted its form like a suit that didn¡¯t fit.


    I shrank away from the monster, pushing against my restraints and it bared its teeth in a mockery of a smile. It took a step, then a second and I realized it was walking. Not floating, like the tools and bits of food that had been launched into the air and refused to come down. It was anchored to this place while nothing else was, ignoring the lack of gravity.


    Its steps brought it beside me, and I waited for the inevitable. I had known when I was carted into this room that I was to be taken apart, no one had ever come back after being strapped down, and it wasn¡¯t hard to guess what would happen when I had first been wheeled into here and saw the scalpels and sawblades. It lowered its face in front of mine, and I closed my eyes waiting for its teeth to sink into me.


    I felt a kiss on my cheek, and when I opened my eyes it was gone.

 2 - Second Contact

    The lights came back on with a click, and I was once more able to see the room around me. The fans in the vents started again and I could feel the push of air. I hit the ground with enough force to bruise my tailbone and knew at once that this place once again had gravity of a sort.


    I had no idea how long I had sat in the dark, huddled beneath this desk in silence. It could have been hours, or even days. My throat was dry and my chest burned from the carvings in my flesh.


    One moment I had been driving home from work, a bottle of wine in the back seat. The next thing I knew I had woken up in some cell made of a strange dark material with thirteen others. Now I was huddled prey, wondering if it was monsters or aliens that would finish me off.


    I slowly edged around the desk, checking around the corners for monsters in the room.


    I would like to say it was clear, but much of the room was concealed from my sight. Each individual bed had curtains around it affording some level of privacy and each curtain blocked my view. I hid in a lit room from things I didn''t even know of, staying in place perfectly still for hours on end.


    Eventually, I concluded that I had to get up, my thirst from however many hours or days I had spent hiding in this room drove me in the way curiosity and the need for escape could not. I stood on shaking legs, and the sudden movement darkened my vision before I could catch myself and stabilize.


    The room around me was empty as I crept barefoot and naked through the medical bay. White curtains broke up my line of sight, providing unknown crevices in which anything could be hiding. I had seen the way the thing that wore the alien¡¯s skin twisted as it moved, an abominable horror wearing a meat suit that could never hope to properly contain the thing within.


    The smell of blood drowned out the scent of cleaners that had been used to sterilize this room, though I had long since become blind to the overwhelming acrid taste in the air. I stepped carefully to avoid the shards of smashed objects that littered the floor, desperately avoiding cutting my feet on pieces of warped metal and shattered glass.


    Many of the alien apparati were easily identifiable. It seemed there weren¡¯t much better ways of injecting a fluid than a needle, and there weren¡¯t many better ways of cutting through flesh than a scalpel or a saw. Though that did not mean I understood everything around me; for every bed or ipad-looking device, there would be a cylinder with blinking lights or a box without seams or imperfections that would leave me puzzled.


    I bent over and grasped a scalpel, its handle fitting into my palm like an oversized pencil with a blade the size of my thumb. I did not know how it would protect me from a six and a half foot lizardman, but any blade was welcome in this alien dungeon. I crept forwards and eventually passed the partitioned beds and overturned tray tables, looking upon what might be closer to an office break room.


    On one side of the room was a desk, and on the other was a row of cabinets and counters. The floor was stained with a plate of food that had smeared itself across the white tile. I did not recognize what could have gone into the bowl of thick porridge that had been upended, though for a moment I harbored the idea of picking bits of the crusted meal off of the floor.


    I shook my head and looked to the sink, seeing a faucet that stuck out from the wall with a handle on top hanging over a large metallic basin. It was not a design I was familiar with, the distance between the faucet and the basin was longer than humans was preferred and the counter was uncomfortably tall. I raised my arms and twisted the knob, and water began streaming in front of me.


    Cupping my hands, I brought the liquid to my parched throat and drank before repeating this motion. Eventually I abandoned civility, leaned my head forwards and began sucking the water from the tap itself.


    When I reached my fill I leaned away, realizing that in my desperation I had completely neglected my surroundings.


    If a predator was going to jump me it would wait until I was distracted, wouldn¡¯t it?


    My heart began pounding as I began once more surveying the alien craft around me. The walls and floors were bright white and splattered with impurities. The alien¡¯s blood had hardened onto many of the surfaces in sickly dark green chunks.


    Now that my thirst had been satisfied I turned towards the room around me, everything that hadn¡¯t been nailed down had been upturned by the quakes and loss of gravity. Stray droplets of bodily fluids had found their way onto everything at this point.


    I stepped away from the room, I could not stay in this place. It was too open, too exposed.


    Everything was too bright. I felt safe while I was huddled into my corner, but looking at the same location from this angle revealed how easily I would be found if someone only walked halfway into the room. I needed to escape and find my way home.


    If I stayed here either the monsters or the aliens would find me, sooner or later.


    I needed to find some sort of escape pod, or a shuttle and fly back to Earth. To do that I had to leave this room, and to leave this room I risked walking straight into a pack of those lizard people.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Instead I stood paralyzed in front of the closed door. I could see the small button on the side, glowing to allow for easy access in dark environments. It would be so easy, just press the button and the door opens. I had seen this happen before, so I even knew what the glowing blue symbol meant.


    I raised my hand before flinching and lowering it. I stepped back for a moment, turning to observe the room behind me to check for unknown threats. I felt exposed, like unseen eyes were upon me.


    The fear and isolation overwhelmed me for a moment as tears began to erupt, it was so unfair. I had never done anything to deserve this. I stood sobbing until my throat began to ache. I could no longer hold it in, and the silence was broken by my muffled cries. The horror and blood of this evil place had finally pushed me beyond my limits and I began crying like a child.


    But, like all emotions, these too dulled with time. However long I spent standing in the doorway racked with uncontrollable terror I did not know, but eventually I calmed to the point I was again making rational decisions. I wiped the tears away and stood, shoving my fist into the door¡¯s control and peaking around the wall for monsters. Seeing nothing, I finally advanced into the hall.


    My curiosity was met with more scenes of blood.


    ~


    A tall, pink biped slowly inched down the hall, every step or two it would snap its gaze behind it. As if expecting something to be sneaking up from behind.


    He wondered for a moment whether his visor was malfunctioning, because it did not register the species of this creature and gave him no proper languages to translate to for communication purposes. It was either that or¡­


    ¡°[Curse, another one falls.]¡± He said to his paler cellmate.


    They glanced up immediately, suddenly drawn to the conversation as an escape from their monotonous prison. ¡°[What?]¡±


    ¡°[Pink flesh-species in the hall. No register. Curse the falls.]¡± He answered, it was obvious that a new planet had been located. It was only a matter of time before its subjugation.


    ¡°[More worlds to fall? That is sub-suboptimal.]¡± His cellmate agreed. ¡°[What verb does he partake?]¡±


    ¡°[Sneaking around. Creeping. Wandering most likely.]¡± He answered. The creature¡¯s actions were clearly confused exploration, its head snapping was likely to prevent something from sneaking up behind.


    ¡°[They wander for their verb?]¡± the creature sat stunned before fitting out a single question, ¡°[Why?]¡±


    ¡°[Because there are no guards or chains.]¡± They gestured to the lack of guards. ¡°[Thus they wander, by creeping.]¡±


    ¡°[I want to see. Remove yourself.]¡±


    His cellmate shoved him and began looking through the cell¡¯s only window, before he shoved his cellmate out of the way. They had both been locked in this musty closet for the last two months with barely enough room to lay side by side with only a water faucet and toilet between them. This was perhaps the first change of scenery in months.


    ¡°[Pink and tall. Perhaps she is lifting designation?]¡± His cellmate offered.


    ¡°[She? Why the designation of she?]¡± He asked.


    ¡°[She clearly has eggs, envision the waist.]¡±


    He nodded with a slight glance at the crotch, ¡°[I see, very female. Two eggs.]¡±


    ¡°[Agree, but no guards still. When was our feeding cycle?]¡±


    ¡°[Too long, I hunger. They are off schedule.]¡±


    ¡°[Agree, no schedule. Why no schedule?]¡±


    The human slowly crept down the hall, at their rate of travel it must have taken hours for them to get anywhere. As the creature neared their cell their cellmate rushed into the window on their door, slamming into it with a thunk.


    ¡°[Pink lady! Untrap us!]¡±


    In response the biped shrieked at the top of her lungs and sprinted back down the hall and out of sight.


    He grunted, ¡°[Curse. You scared them away.]¡±


    ¡°[I agree. Curse. However, if the biped can activate the control, our verb will be wander.]¡±


    He grunted, ¡°[The biped looks barbarian. I do not agree. They will not activate control.]¡±


    ¡°[I will make biped agree, then they will activate control to open doors.]¡±


    For a moment he contemplated saying something, but could not think of a better plan. He did not even fully believe leaving his cell was the best option, to become a wanderer and then be caught immediately after was a death sentence. It was not possible to remain proactively hidden while on a ship, there were cameras everywhere and the crew would all be actively searching in hope of a monetary reward.


    But even then a primal part of him urged to escape this room, to wander without chains.


    What if the human managed to open the cell doors? What if it wasn¡¯t their fault they escaped, and all they did was wander around a bit? He would kill to stretch his legs, and surely they couldn¡¯t execute the entire slave division if all of their doors came unlocked somehow.


    ¡°[Biped, to the opposite hall end.]¡± His pale cellmate pointed in the direction of the control room from his position in the door¡¯s window. ¡°[No- Other way biped. Opposite of that end.]¡±


    ¡°[Curse. Not work?]¡± He asked.


    ¡°[Not work. Very curse. She ran.]¡±


    He snortled, of course she ran. His cellmate was a terrifying alien who made loud noises, what did he think would happen?


    ¡°[You will not be classified as scientist.]¡± He concluded in response to his partner¡¯s plan.


    ¡°[Hold on answer. She returns.]¡±


    He had to pause for a moment at the unexpected response. ¡°[She returns?]¡±


    ¡°[She returns, she approaches. Our window is now used to see in!]¡±


    ¡°[Our window is used to see in?]¡± He looked towards the window and saw the alien peering down onto them, its pink face resembling his own gray mask somewhat. It was smooth, possessed ridges and relatively few openings. For whatever reason the top of this head was covered in thin wire like material.


    ¡°[How strange. Crash helmets share its head design.]¡± His cellmate quipped, before concluding. ¡°[Designed for impact and not biting or venom. Its mouth is small, but what verb does the two holes and ridge in the middle perform?]¡±


    ¡°[Venom storage? It leaks clear fluid.]¡± He answered. ¡°[And it grew eye shields. It shields its eyes.]¡±


    The pink biped placed a delicate five fingered appendage onto the window, its palm supporting a criss cross of lines. He stared for a moment at the alien limb, five fingers. They were so thin and dainty, something that could be easily broken if stepped on.


    He placed his own hand onto the glass, spreading his three thick fingers across from the pink biped¡¯s hand. For a moment they held still, two prisoners, two slaves, two siblings in misfortune taken by an uncaring empire.


    The human pulled their hand back and looked down at the creatures within this cell, a cell identical to the one they had been trapped in for weeks on end and despite himself felt a level of kinship for the strange alien.


    ¡°[I have a thought.]¡± He spoke to his pale roommate, then he traced a small pattern onto the window.


    A circle with a line cutting it in half, the symbol for something opening.

 3 - Open the Doors

    A circle cut in half with a line.


    I had no idea what it meant but the alien had repeated the gesture until I repeated it back. That meant it understood basic communication. In other words, it was definitely a sentient being and not a ravenous animal. Before I had no plan other than simply wandering from room to room, marveling at alien machinery, and avoiding the patches of caked blood and gore that coated some areas.


    There were no bodies or rather no dead ones at least. The room I stumbled into was filled with row upon row of closet sized cells packed with between two and four individuals. Some were too full for the creatures to comfortably lay down, and in many they sat leaned against the walls.


    Thousands of these creatures pressed against the glass to stare at me as I passed and I wondered if they were curious or hungry. They might well be predators eyeing their next meal but at this point I was out of options.


    I could not read the alien script nor could I navigate this strange vessel. Even if I was free I had not yet left the belly of the beast. I would need these creature¡¯s help to return home, if that was even possible. So I continued my march, past the rows and rows of windows with staring faces and blank gray masks that imprinted some humanity onto these alien¡¯s carapaces and buglike features until eventually I reached the end of the hall where I found a small room with a computer built into a desk.


    Humans liked to have separate components. A given setup would have a computer, a monitor, a keyboard and everything else all connected by wires and layered onto a table. The aliens seemed to prefer to integrate everything into one piano shaped piece of furniture. Computers like this were littered around the ship, most being made of thick steel and bolted onto the ground. I did not know if the size was due to a large protective casing or if the alien¡¯s computer systems were simply large.


    What I did know from my explorations so far was that if you swung a chair at the screen it would bounce off without leaving so much as a scratch. I stopped and stared directly at what must have been the keyboard, searching for the correct symbol. A circle cut in half. That was what I needed to find.


    I stared at the keys finding no such symbol. I looked down at what must have been hundreds of different buttons each labeled with a small character annotating its use.


    None of them were circles with lines through them. There was one that was a hexagon with prongs, but none of them resembled what I was looking for. After I spent half an hour staring at the same symbols I concluded that there was no way I simply missed it by mistake. Then I checked the computer screen, maybe it had an off or on switch that looked similar? I turned my focus to the entire body of the device, looking for some sort of hidden key or dial. The computers I knew of had buttons all over them despite most being positioned on a keyboard.


    I combed over every inch of this device and found that no such switch existed. For a moment I stood in silence feeling my emotions well up in my throat and realized I had managed to hope this button would save me. That somehow this would allow me to communicate my problem with these strange aliens and that I could survive and return home. I felt my emotions overcome me, rage at those things that abducted me, rage at myself for feeling such hope, rage at the others who had died before I could escape and left me here alone.


    I screamed and slammed my fist into the computer, and when I indented the keys the screen flashed to life. I wiped my eyes and looked at what it was showing me.


    The monitor displayed squares, rows and rows of equally sized blue squares. It was a grid and each box was marked with symbols. I leaned in closer and found a pattern.


    The first letter was a hexagon with prongs, followed by a set of symbols. Below that was a hexagon with prongs, followed by different symbols. An entire column was marked with these hexagons and then differentiated with different symbols. Then another row was each marked by some type of triangle.


    Each cell has a three digit code, the first symbol marked its column and the next two marked which row it was in. I turned and glanced through the door, finding a small plate above each cell door with symbols that matched what I was seeing on the computer.


    ¡°This is column backwards-seven and row circle then plus-sign. Which means¡­¡±


    I turned to the computer, finding the box marked with the same symbols and pressed my finger onto it.


    ¡°I am here.¡±


    The revelation felt like I was finally understanding something, for a moment I forgot my fears. Sure I had been strapped to a table and was about to be dissected by a strange alien race who abducted me, and now I was stuck in a giant metal tomb that was plummeting through space with no known method of returning to my home. But I now knew where I was, it said so on the computer.


    When I removed my finger from the screen I noticed that the box had changed colors and two symbols now hovered over that square on the grid. One with a cube outline, and the other the fabled circle with a line through it.


    I pressed it with no hesitation, and then felt my stomach drop when one of the cell doors behind me hissed as the door dragged itself open. I froze as one of the alien¡¯s dark green, four toed feet made its way onto the metal.


    I hadn¡¯t actually thought that much about actually meeting one of these creatures, I still had a scalpel with me, but I felt more naked without something proper to defend myself with than the lack of clothes. Sure if I couldn¡¯t find help to escape this ship it would be my tomb, but on the flip side having no back up plan for if this thing chose to disembowel me was perhaps the stupidest thing I had ever done.


    It took one step towards me and I shrank back. It took another wavering step and fell to its knee, I heard it gasping through its thick mask and stared for a moment. I did not know if these aliens developed fat or if these insectoids even had muscles the way I understood them. This thing did appeared to be very thin for whatever reason. I had been in one of those pods without food for awhile, even now the hunger gnawed at me though at this point it felt like a background emotion. I wondered how much these things had been fed, and how long they had been in here.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Surely longer than me at least, did they suffer from muscular atrophy as well?


    My fears began to recede slightly, though I still kept as much distance between myself and the alien creature as possible. If it did seem aggressive I could probably kick it in the head fairly easily given the size difference. The thing might have been slightly over four feet tall at the most.


    It¡¯s mask crackled with the sound of radio static, ¡°[Eiee, hggg-]¡±


    I understood it was speaking with me, though I would not have been capable of reproducing the same sounds it used. It gestured towards the computer and I shrugged.


    It did not have shoulders and tilted its head, I did the same and it reached up into the air.


    Something tall.


    It reached its arms out.


    About this wide.


    It stuck one of its arms out behind it.


    Mimicking a tail.


    I managed to put together that it was asking about the lizard people, our captors, and I thought about how I could communicate that I hadn¡¯t found a single living creature on this ship other than us.


    I squatted slightly, mimicking the lizard creature¡¯s bowed legs, then pushed an arm behind me like a tail, and then put one of my hands up like a snout. The alien stopped moving, now enamored it began silently watching, as I pretended to tromp around before falling over.


    After I hit the ground the alien tilted its head once again before stepping back, leaning against the wall and loudly conversing with some other aliens it shared a room with. I stood up, and the alien pointed at where I hit the ground. I stood staring blankly.


    Did it want me to lay down?


    I squatted and began to lie down when the alien interrupted me, ¡°[Eieee, hggggg.]¡±


    The loud noise startled me and I leapt up, the alien approached and I stepped back towards the room until my back hit the wall. I raised my fists and watched the creature turn slightly.


    It stood between me and where I laid down, then pointed to where I had been laying. Where the lizard person I pretended to be was lying.


    I nodded, and started walking towards the alien-


    I slowed, I did not want to get close or, god forbid, to touch that thing. I felt my knees lock up subconsciously and I started edging to the side of it.


    The thing was in the doorway, I could not get past without getting close.


    It seemed to sense my frustration and backed up, allowing me to walk in a wide arc around it and lead the way.


    We walked back down the hall, every so often pausing as the alien leaned against the grey metallic wall to catch its breath. It seemed that walking short distances tired the thing out after however long it had been stuck in here.


    It brought me some piece of mind, it could never catch me if I ran so long as I wasn¡¯t cornered. It had a talon-like claw on one of its thick fingers, but so long as I didn¡¯t let it rip into me with that I would probably be fine. We climbed a set of stairs up to the rest of the ship and I ended up waiting at the top for the alien to make its way upwards. Then we set off to the left.


    I had a feeling that it wanted to verify if they would be punished for escaping, to see how many of their captors were still alive before considering rebellion. If I showed one splattering it might take that to be a fluke, if there was only evidence of one body then the rest of the ship might be in the middle of repelling boarders or splitting off into parties to capture the lone human stowaway rummaging around.


    But, if I showed them what happened in the locker room I found before I even came down to the prisons¡­


    Whatever it was that killed all of those lizard men hadn¡¯t shown itself since I got up and so I moved more boldly, walking at full speed careless about the noise I was making. We went up the stairs, leaving the prison. Then turned and began making our way down the halls, strolling rather than moving slowly and quietly.


    When I had come this way before I was preoccupied with staying away from the vents, I had spent hours moving as silently as I could. Acting like there was a beast waiting to leap at me from every corner. After so long without seeing anything alive I had become familiar with the blood stained terrain, complacent even.


    Even while I had crept through the ship, flinching at every shadow, I still happened upon enough scenes pointing to the grisly fate of the crew. The ship was covered in splatterings of the alien¡¯s green blood. One room could be absolutely covered in the filth, and then the next room could be untouched. You could walk down a hallway and see nothing wrong, until you looked up and saw the remains of what used to be a person coating the ceiling.


    The sheer randomness pieced itself together into a simple story, something had gouged the crew out of existence. The survivors had banded together as best they could only after most of the crew had been wiped out. In some of the larger rooms large numbers of the aliens had made last stands together behind improvised barricades. One warehouse I had walked into had been filled with disassembled shelves and crates placed in front of all the entrances.


    It didn¡¯t save them, one of the biggest gatherings was here in the armory I was leading the insectoid to. They had piled into this room to equip themselves, then something had cut the power. When that happened none of the doors would open and neither would the lockers. They had been trapped unarmed in the dark with the monsters.


    I opened the door leading the insectoid inwards, the light bulbs would not light no matter how many times I flicked the switch beside the door and so we were left with what lighting could make it in from the hallway. The acidic stench was what hit me first, it burned in the back of my throat and reminded me of breathing in smoke from a campfire.


    The creature peered in, staring at the bloodstains. Thick piles of unknown flesh, the harrowing lack of what logically should have been in here.


    Where did the bodies go? Would it believe me if I pointed to the ripped open vents? Maybe it would follow the blood trails and come to that conclusion itself.


    I wondered at that moment if I should be more fearful of the creaks and moans of the ship. The everpresent sound of metal expanding or shrinking. The hums and vibrations of motors and fans that kept the ship alive and the sounds of metal as it heated and expanded, before cooling and shrinking.


    Every so often you heard a sound, as if someone had dropped a heavy weight onto the metallic floor, but when you turned you saw nothing.


    The insectoid did not shrink back like I did when I first saw the scene. It instead stepped forwards, and then stomped straight through the piles of gore to reach its target. I watched it slam at the shutters, trying to open up the container to access the weapons within. It brought its fists up and down, kicked and even jammed its talons into the seams of the doors, but ultimately failed.


    The original inhabitants could not breach those doors, at least not without the power on and it was unlikely they were as weak from starvation and confinement as we were.


    Even now my stamina far outclassed this creature, the insectoid raged against the weapons that were one thin but impenetrable wall away. After less than a minute the effort left it out of breath. It collapsed for a moment.


    I couldn¡¯t make out facial features through the mask, what should I do if it fell unconscious?


    It slouched, breathing heavily, before trying and failing to rise to its feet. I watched for minutes as it regained its breath before it could rise onto its shaking legs. It stepped through the gore, before staring down and realizing just what its bare appendages were touching. It looked to the door where I stood and finally saw it.


    Footprints. My footprints. I brought him to this place to show him the gore. I knew of this place because I had been here first. I had slammed against those same barriers, trying desperately to arm myself with the weapons I could see but never touch behind the metal casing and I had tracked the blood I disregarded in my desperation all the way down the hall.


    The creature depressed slightly, seeing the futility of its actions, before shaking itself and wandering back down the way we came.


    This time I followed, but I didn''t know what the current plan was. Somehow I needed to communicate to this group the urgency of me getting back to Earth.


    Right now I would probably need to compromise on this goal for the basics, finding something I could consider edible and maybe a nice safe corner to take a nap.


    Hopefully these creatures understood more about the situation and could take charge.

 4 - It Says Two

    I sat in a well lit hall, the lighting was bright to the point of being hostile. If I turned upwards I needed to shield my eyes or risk blinding myself and a slight fluorescent hum consumed any moments of silence.


    Near me was a door leading to a large warehouse filled with seating and food dispensers, it was obviously some kind of cafeteria even if the fine details were somewhat alien.


    It was also the sight of a massacre, something had descended upon the dozens of unarmed aliens in the middle of their meals and left only broken bowls and the greenish sludge that had long since dried and cracked into a spiderweb of crusted filth.


    There were still no signs of the bodies or of whoever had done this. I tried not to think about it as I downed my third bowl of thick brownish paste. The only food on this ship seemed to be a dense puree that tasted incredibly sweet and salty. Hopefully its nutrients were compatible with my body and this food didn¡¯t just come back up in a few minutes.


    I chased it with another mouthful of tap water, the only drink on this ship, to rinse the salt out of my mouth.


    Those hunched insect creatures continued to scurry about, this seemed to be the only nearby collection of paste based foods on the ship. That meant that as they left their holding cells every single one would make its way down to this room and collapse against the wall in the outside hallway with its meal.


    Thousands of these hunched creatures trotted through the halls. Many of them limping or being carried by others in a constant stream of bodies. I watched as the bowels of this massive ship went from abandoned to overcrowded in less than an hour.


    Even now, the short hunched aliens I helped free would avoid my presence. They were seated in the halls and sometimes tripping over each other, but none would step within five feet of me. A slow trickle on the opposite side of the hallway marked where they felt safe to pass me by, squeezing as close to the opposite bulkhead as possible.


    I preferred it this way, while I was no longer fearful of their appearance I found them too unfamiliar to become comfortable with them. Eventually most of the creatures settled down and while some continued to pace to and fro stretching out their limbs, most silently ate their paste and took rapid darting glances at their new surroundings.


    The thought of the logistics crossed my mind. How would I find a bathroom to expel my first meal since I had gotten here? Even as I had the thought my mind began to unfocus. I had overtaxed myself and slumped against the wall with an empty bowl, a cup and a scalpel. The only three things I could hold claim to. My eyes became heavy and I felt myself begin to drift.


    The next thing I knew something kicked my side and I snapped awake. I tried to look up, before wiping the blur out of my eyes and shielding my face from the merciless hall lights.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    English. The voice was dry and monotone, belonging to something with a deep voice.


    I leapt to my feet without thinking and came face to face with a horrible squid monster. I screamed and backpedaled only to trip and hit the ground hard. One of the short insect-things shrieked in alarm as I went tumbling straight onto them.


    When the surprise wore off I was left flinching away from the angry bug-person and turning to the new unknown thing above me.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    The voice did not come from the squid monster, or rather it did. The thing held a small box and began tapping at it, causing the device to spout more phrases.


    ¡°You understand?¡±


    I nodded before realizing that it likely couldn¡¯t translate gestures.


    ¡°Yes I understand.¡± I said.


    The bug thing I fell onto crawled past us both and took my old spot before slumping over once again, leaving me multiple arm lengths away from everyone but the giant cephalopod. Its skin took on an earthy tan color dotted with white dimples, and its yellow slitted eyes moved with an intelligence animals lacked.


    ¡°Efficient, it works.¡± The box crackled before going silent. ¡°Why there is no Ackiyon?¡±


    The name was foreign to me.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked before clarifying, ¡°What is an Ackiyon?¡±


    The monster shifted colors for a moment, quickly darting between red and a pale yellow before settling back onto its usual rock-camouflage.


    ¡°The species owned this airplane. They fill with green paste blood.¡±


    Airplane was what they called a spaceship? I felt a pit form in my stomach, thinking back to what had happened. I was the only one outside of the prison when that happened, and it''s likely that I was the only person who could account for the destroyed crew. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    How did I explain it?


    I cleared my throat, while the aliens had been ruthless even now I could remember the way the shadow monsters moved. Untethered by physics, like a puppet being led through the gravityless ship by unseen hands. The sounds of screams and bones snapping as they were displaced by that thing stole everything from that alien.


    I remembered the soft kiss on my cheek as I looked up to see an empty room.


    ¡°They were eaten by demons.¡± I offered, I didn¡¯t know how else to describe it.


    The octopus paused for a moment staring at the screen before typing in a new phrase.


    ¡°Definition required: demon.¡±


    ¡°A monster.¡± I said, before adding. ¡°An evil entity, a divine being, those forsaken by god.¡±


    The tentacle monster again darted between hues of red and blue before settling on pale yellow and eventually reverting back to the earthy tone.


    After it typed for multiple minutes the device finally sparked to life and lectured me.


    ¡°This ship is not magic, those people are not magic. You are on an airplane because you taken by superior species.¡±


    The issue is that I knew what I had seen, it was not mortal.


    ¡°I know that you are all aliens. But this thing was different it-¡± It smelled like death and it moved like a hand puppet. ¡°It had no resemblance to anything I had ever seen. It didn¡¯t move like the lizard- Ackiyon.¡±


    The alien across from me did not change colors this time as it stared at the screen, it eventually typed in a new sentence.


    ¡°Continue describing.¡±


    I thought back and shuttered, but I understood that they needed to know what was in this ship.


    ¡°When there was no gravity, something crawled out of the vent. It was-¡± I raised a hand, tall. ¡°-this big. It had no color, like a moving shadow but it was so dark it stood out even when the lights went out. Even though there was no gravity it still walked along the ground. It grabbed the Ackiyon and ripped it apart with its hands. It moved like it had no bones.¡±


    ¡°Likely wear mag-boots. They destabilized the airplane and eliminated owners. But why leave? Why not take the airplane with them?¡±


    I could understand the conclusion it came to, some sort of special forces had eliminated the crew and left us with the ship.


    Its translator crackled to life once more, ¡°Human, I have found human language translate. It incomplete. Soon crew will speak human. Now you follow me. Do not touch anything without permission. Many things deadly. Understand.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I answered, clearly they had all of the faith in me that I would give a chimpanzee running lose in my home. This octopus monster seemed to be more intelligent than the insectoids around me, and was also roughly the size of a cow. It moved by twisting and shifting itself from limb to limb, stretching outwards and retracting its body to drag itself forwards.


    For a while we walked in silence past rows and rows of small green onlookers that lined the edges of the halls. They laid collapsed, exhaustion and malnourishment apparent to even me despite their masks and chitinous faces. Though even now I was a unique enough sight that they would interrupt their naps and aimless wandering to stare at me, my tall and straight alien body as opposed to their own huddled and small profiles designed to keep them low to the ground.


    Most were covered in some sort of carapace. A sheen that resembled plastic covering most of their bodies like a natural breastplate that left their joints bare. Though a few appeared to be almost naked.


    ¡°Why do they have so many bug people?¡± I blurted, ¡°And why were they kept in those little cells? Are they criminals?¡±


    The octopus wrapped its tentacles around the small box and after a moment I got my reply.


    ¡°This plane cargoplane. Aimed for new colony. Carrying goods. Slave laborers, difficult to produce goods. Exchange for raw materials. It scouted a few unidentified systems near its route and found your planet.¡±


    ¡°Why did they want to dissect me?¡± I asked before even thinking.


    The creature typed rapidly and I got my answer relatively quickly. ¡°Appraising you for viability of mass enslavement.¡±


    ¡°What-¡± I stumbled, ¡°Do you think there are more ships with humans?¡±


    ¡°Unlikely, Ackiyon planes will betray each other over valuable treasure.¡± The octopus stated, ¡°Single ships survive more.¡±


    ¡°So we have time before¡­ They come back to capture more people?¡± I asked. ¡°Could we¡­ Stop them?¡±


    ¡°You ask too many questions too fast.¡± The box said in complete monotone. ¡°We will have time before they genocide your people and steal your planet. First we must reach The United, they stand against Ackiyon.¡±


    ¡°The United are the good guys?¡± I asked, ¡°They can help?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The United, I thought. In my mind that sounded similar to The Allies during world war two, surely they were the good guys and would help out a small struggling species on the edge of space?


    We came to a stop in front of a door, it hissed open and I followed the cephalopod in coming face to face with a horde of giant tentacled monstrosities crawling around and shifting colors constantly.


    Well, not so much of a horde as about two dozen of them squelching around the place. It was a huge amount to me who still was not completely over being around one of them.


    I turned to see the limbed monstrosity begin blinking through two dozen colors faster than I could register and another octopus responded in kind. I realized that they may be communicating, not through words or letters but by colors. In any situation but the one I was in now it would be fascinating. Scientists would commit murder just to speak to a sentient creature not from our world.


    I doubted many would kill to be abducted and experimented on.


    I faced one of the octopi, this one far larger than the one I came with ¡°Excuse me sir, the other octopus didn¡¯t believe me, but the ship was invaded by these horrifying shadow demons that might be crawling through the vents. We should-¡±


    It shifted a small box in its limbs as well, rapidly manipulating its smooth surface until it droned out in a dull monotone. ¡°Your caretaker is over there. I am busy trying to run this ship.¡±


    ¡°Look, the things that tore the other aliens apart might still be on this ship. They crawled into the vents we should focus on getting weapons or- holy fuck don¡¯t ignore me!¡± I felt a panic overcome me, if they had been in the slave quarters with the insectoids then they wouldn¡¯t have seen those things rip into the vents. We were all in serious danger.


    ¡°Cease the distractions human.¡± My caretaker scrambled towards me, ¡°And you must learn that god and evil divine beings are not real. Look, my aunt has decrypted the star charter and we may now learn where we are so that we may warn your people.¡±


    The other octopus stared blankly at a screen, for a solid minute I stared at the unmoving octopus as it began to slowly blend into the floors and walls around it. My caretaker began blinking rapidly before her aunt answered.


    ¡°It says two.¡±


    My caretaker paused then began blending into their environment, changing their color to match the dark grey walls and floors.


    ¡°Dear god.¡± My caretaker stated in a flat monotone through the speaker.


    I vaguely understood that the camouflage was likely a response to fear, though I felt like I was missing context.


    ¡°Why is two bad? Are there two ships?¡±


    ¡°During a subspace jump we use a measuring tool to check how far we have leapt into subspace. Zero is our dimension, one or negative one is complete subspace.¡±


    I understood immediately, ¡°We broke through subspace and ended up on the other side?¡±


    ¡°Subspace is a dimension of pure energy. It would in theory require infinite energy to survive contact with the amount of energy held in full subspace. If the measuring device reached even .001 it would cause the ship to explode with the force of a supernova. We only ever travel a microscopic percentage of the way into it and stay for an even shorter time.¡±


    ¡°So uh. How do we get back to my home?¡± I asked the superintelligent cephalopod.


    "We don''t."

 5 - Finding Clothes

    I stood, numb.


    For a moment my hopes had been raised. This freakish alien thing had told me I could get home. Earth may have been in danger but we were about to do something about it. Now I stood in a hallway and wondered if the problem was with me daring to have hopes in the first place.


    I tapped my head against the wall.


    ¡°I was kidnapped, everyone else died. They died horribly. I am alone-¡± I began mumbling to myself, ¡°-So why wouldn¡¯t I just be trapped like this. No one had ever actually been abducted by aliens before, clearly god hates me, so why would everything just get to be better now?¡±


    No, it was obvious. I was cursed, expecting things to get better was a mistake. I was only setting myself up for disappointment.


    A tentacle as thick as my thigh wrapped around my waist.


    ¡°God is not real. Repetition is annoying. This airplane prototype is too powerful, must be captured.¡± The octopus offered. ¡°I am crew manager. Follow my orders. The ship must be reverse engineered to defeat Ackiyon.¡±


    ¡°You said there is no going home.¡± I muttered, feeling fresh tears beginning to sting at my eyes.


    ¡°If Ackiyon breach subspace they are undetectable. The United may be losing//may have lost if their airplanes go unnoticed. If we wish for to continue exist, we must escape.¡±


    I stood for a moment before nodding, there was something that I could do to improve our odds. It might be a false hope, a lie told to a gullible primitive purely to stop them from causing problems, but if I could believe that I could trust this octopus person then that meant I had a direction to move in.


    ¡°I understand, what do you need me to do?¡± My heart began to pound as I stood tall.


    If there was even a chance this would work then the only thing to do was throw everything I had into it.


    The translator whirred to life and answered, ¡°Medical date entry, humans are capable of existence without rest for extended time.Therefore your body will suit long term work.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know yet?¡± I asked as my hope began to fade. ¡°It sounded like there was something important to do.¡±


    ¡°Airplanes need many tasks to run, all important. Everything must be done. The airplane needs crew to operate.¡± They explained. ¡°You are not trained. But if you learn to do task efficiently, we can achieve objectives.¡±


    I nodded, before realizing I had to speak for the translator to work.


    ¡°Okay, so what are we doing now?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You will follow me. Do not touch anything. Do not operate any devices.¡±


    ¡°I understand. No touching.¡±


    ¡°Optimal. Follow. Do not touch anything.¡±


    The octopus began dragging themselves down the hallway and I followed as instructed. We walked on the steel gray tiles that made up the halls. The insectoids turned to follow my movements as I passed and I pushed down a surge of fear to the thousands of alien eyes.


    We walked for minutes in a straight line and yet I never saw the end of the hallway in this ginormous ship, we stopped only because we seemed to have arrived at wherever the octopus needed to be. We turned to face a door.


    It was the same as any of the doors; it was automated and opened with a hiss when you pressed a small blue button on the side. I waited outside until the alien managed to turn a light on within the room and then entered to find the least amount of alien scifi gadgetry that I had ever seen.


    There were rows and rows of books and in shock I reached out to grab a small paper volume before flipping to a random page. What use would a space age society need for paper?


    One of the octopus¡¯s tentacles whipped painfully against my wrist before seizing around my arm and hoisting me up into the air.


    ¡°Do not touch anything.¡± The translator¡¯s verbal monotone did not fully translate the fact that the alien had turned bright angry red.


    ¡°Okay, sorry-¡± I was released and fell onto my ass. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean anything, it''s just a book.¡±


    ¡°Now is books. Later is buttons. Then is levers.¡± The monotone voice scolded. ¡°How will I know? You will press buttons, then the ship explode.¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I rubbed at my limb, the sudden jerk had nearly ripped it from its socket. I wasn¡¯t a chimpanzee, I knew better than to press random buttons. Still, I bit my tongue and gave a half nod before remembering the translator.


    ¡°I understand. I apologize, I was merely surprised to find something I recognized-¡±


    ¡°You lack restraint. How can I trust with importance//tasks?¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡±


    ¡°Adequate.¡± The octopus paused for a moment considering, ¡°You may operate that book.¡±


    I sighed, I didn¡¯t even really want to read it. The odds of it being in english and not some sort of alien scrawl were low. The curiosity had actually just gotten the better of me, though regardless of my current feelings the octopus was now staring at me. I imagined admitting to them that I had gone and started grabbing things that I didn¡¯t even want¡­


    I took the book, hunched over on the floor and started flipping through the pages. They seemed to be satisfied and left me with my little distraction to go and start digging through a few drawers.


    Looking around this place seemed to be rarely touched. I wondered if it was some kind of record keeping office. Many of the papers seemed to be held together in metallic binders while some were standard paperback books. Still, I kept my hands to myself and leaned against the wall with the one thing I was permitted to touch.


    Flipping the page revealed exactly what I had expected. Ackiyon print tended to favor sharp edges and little spacing. I obviously couldn¡¯t read anything as I flipped through the thick pages.


    I quickly gave up on the book when flicking through the pages revealed there were not even pictures to give context.


    The octopus turned to eye me for a moment, before resuming their work. She must have been satisfied that I was lying exhausted in the corner and not nosing into anything. I curled up slightly, putting my hands behind my head to cushion it against the metallic surface behind me.


    I stared up at the lights for a moment, then shielded my eyes.


    Was that monster I had seen real? Or was I just hallucinating from the shock?


    Not one of the aliens seemed to believe me, none of them. They even had half correct sounding explanations for what I could have seen. If it hadn¡¯t been real, what had really killed the Ackiyon? Some kind of alien Navy Seal or something?


    Earth had legends of creatures like those, skinwalkers and the like.


    Were magical creatures real?


    I almost snorted, of course they weren¡¯t. Magic is not real.


    Unless it is. If even a fraction of the stories humans had possessed a shadow of truth¡­


    Instinctually I had feared it.


    I was terrified of being strapped to that table. I had pissed myself when the doctor went to grab his scalpels.


    None of that felt anything like gazing at the empty void in front of me. No, I had heard the screams and the bones breaking. The way it stood over me.


    Clearly there was some sort of magic in place. If not magic than something else that could be equated with it. And if magic was real then-


    Could my friends have made it to heaven? Was the afterlife real?


    I reached a hand up towards the ceiling light, fully extending my hand and closed my fist, as if trying to grab light itself.


    I remembered their names.


    Chell Armette. Diane Tykia. Lucas Bretton. Brandon¡­ Three of the people had not spoken English, and we couldn¡¯t get their names. Jules had only known French and Diane had to translate for him.


    Brandon was the first to be taken, before we had known our time was limited and begun sharing information in the hopes that some of us would escape. I knew nothing about him other than his first name.


    Of the fourteen humans who were once on this ship, thirteen were dead. I had nine and a half names, eventually I would have to track down each of their families. All of us who could communicate had promised, and now I was the sole survivor to carry on this agreement.


    ¡°Brandon, Chell Armette. Diane Tykia. Lucas Bretton-¡± I repeated the names, in order of those who had cells furthest from me to those closest. ¡°Jules Martin, Olivia Teach, Emma Abden William Secula, three people who did not speak english, Harper Smith, Emily Abdot-¡±


    I went over the names like a montra, refusing to forget the people who did not make it. Repeating them over and over again. I continued again and again until the octopus alien spoke to me.


    ¡°This is yours, possibly.¡±


    They turned and dropped a ball of cloth onto the ground. I reached for it, unraveling the rough fabric into a white blouse and thin dark skirt. I identified it as some sort of work uniform.


    ¡°I do not understand what the spike on the bottom of the footwear is for, but the leg robes seem highly efficient for comforting your genitalia.¡±


    ¡°Actually, this isn¡¯t mine.¡± I corrected staring at the high heels on the ground, ¡°This is for a girl- er¡­ a female.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± They flipped through one of the plastic binders, ¡°Females have internal reproductive organs. This suits external reproductive organs due to the open bottom half.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but men do not wear skirts. I would prefer my original clothing.¡±


    I had woken up in my cell naked but I didn¡¯t think that they had actually stored my belongings as some form of evidence. I didn¡¯t think they actually cared about us or anything we had. The hope that this was all just a robbery or that we had something valuable had floated around a few times though no one truly believed it.


    The octopus turned towards one of the drawers for a moment before turning back with a slight yellowish hue.


    ¡°These drawers store human made objects. You may have them.¡±


    I nodded reflexively before speaking, ¡°Thank you. I will tell you if I find anything nonhuman in there.¡±


    ¡°Efficient.¡±


    I reached towards what seemed to be filing cabinets, or some sort of metal storage locker. Its design was very human, only the size hinted at alien origins. I wondered what scientists would say about two isolated species coming to the same conclusion on storage design. Opening one of the drawers revealed a black t-shirt dumped on top of a pair of jeans.


    Not mine. I decided and shut the drawer.


    The next drawer had a knitted sweater, and then the next had a shirt with some kind of anime character on it. After four drawers I found my clothes, a bright red shirt and a pair of jeans. I dragged everything out of the drawer and dumped it onto the ground next to me. Pants, underpants, shirt, shoes, socks-


    I held my phone for a minute, it still had charge. My wallet was even in here, which would be lucky if the money or cards had any value whatsoever. I stood in front of the cabinet and took a deep breath in. I knew what I had to do, it was more important than even my current nakedness. I ripped each of the files open and pulled out each of their wallets.


    Thirteen wallets in front of me. Thirteen drivers licenses and thirteen names, though I could not read four of them.


    They had all left family and friends behind on Earth. For a while I had worried that I would have trouble finding them if- when I managed to return home. But now as long as I had a form of identification I could easily track down those related to my fellow abductees. As the only survivor it was now my duty.


    I gently placed the cards down in front of me and then slid my clothing on, the octopus behind me watched silently as I said a prayer before pocketing the licenses.


    ¡°God is not real, human. Leaving behind superstition will lead to higher learning and efficiency.¡±


    ¡°I have seen demons with my own eyes, why would I not believe in everything else?¡±


    The octopus turned a slightly irritated red, but said nothing about the subject, instead turning towards the other drawers.


    ¡°Fine, if that is all then we should be moving. You should take the rest of the clothing with you. It may take some time before we can fabricate personal items.¡±


    I really did not want to wear dead people¡¯s clothing.


    ¡°The previous owners might have diseases.¡± I lied, ¡°Possibly very deadly ones.¡±


    They turned a slight green for a moment, before replying, ¡°Inefficient, though sanitation is the origin of burial rituals. I will show you your room. If you become diseased return to your room. If you commit crimes you will also be restrained in your room.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I sighed, obviously if I ran around trashing the ship they would lose patience with me and I would end up locked away. It''s not like they needed to tell me that.

 6 - Range of Motion Data

    I stood pressed against the glass, trying to see as far down the hallway as I could.


    The lights were spaced just far enough apart that the light didn¡¯t fully cover between them leaving rows of darkness between the cells. The measurements of everything from the doors to the cups were uncomfortable and clearly not made for human hands. I stared through my window into the cell across from mine, leveraging myself up the wall slightly to see further.


    It was empty. I was left with silence and isolation chasing nothing but the hope that last night had been a nightmare. She had been taken, and now it was only me. I could no longer sleep, and every moment I waited fearing the moment that they would come for me too.


    Exhaustion crept through my muscles, I could no longer stand. I had been leaning against this door for ages just waiting. My muscles had gone beyond burning into a silent numbness as I attempted to lodge myself into the corner to take as much pressure off of my limbs as possible.


    I blinked, staring as the lights flickered casting the halls into darkness.


    I blinked and saw her face, screaming, begging, crying. Tearing at the creatures who grabbed her.


    My fist slammed into the glass, hard enough to tear the skin on my knuckles. I pounded my hand against the immoveable alien material leaving stains of blood until her screams faded into the distance and I was left alone.


    I blinked and I was tied to a table, that thing wearing the alien¡¯s skin stared back. Its eyes, emptier than the impenetrable darkness surrounding me. I tore at my bindings, trying to bring my arms up in front of my bare chest, trying to shake loose to run, hide or do anything.


    It lowered a claw and I felt it dig into my abdomen, tearing through my muscles with ease. I tried to scream but nothing came out as it carved symbols into my stomach, an arrow, a backwards three, many slashes, a-


    I tore my hand up, pulling against the chains that held me. I felt the bindings give way and I slammed a hand forwards.


    I screamed and jammed my fist into the metal bed frame before curling around my injured limb. For the moment I laid half asleep and silently shook myself, my blankets had been kicked off in my thrashing and I laid on the cold metal floor.


    Breathing in and out was the only thing that returned me to normal. I did not know how long I laid like that, curled up and breathing, but like all things my nightmares and fears slowly faded away. When I had calmed somewhat I held out my hand and stared at my knuckles, and the split skin along a couple of my fingers that had long scabbed over.


    I glanced at a simple clock in the corner of the room set to ¡°human time¡± which meant it had twelve hours. I sighed and stretched, it was almost three and I had an hour before work. Despite fixing up the clock to display numbers I was familiar with, it still had errors just because of how time worked, or rather, how the ship was calibrated.


    Ackiyon went off of a 27 hour day by human standards. Thus I had been told to wake up at three, and be on my way to my supervisor by four.


    I rose from my makeshift bed on the floor, wiping the remains of sleep from my eyes and grabbed at a bottle of water I kept nearby.


    The room wasn¡¯t large in a big sort of way, but I had seen pictures of rooms on navy vessels that were essentially bunk beds bolted to the wall with just enough room to climb onto them. As it was, I could lay on the ground with my arms outstretched in every direction and touch neither furniture nor walls with room to spare. It even had an attached bathroom and closet.


    I lifted up the bedding that I had spread on the floor last night and tossed it back up onto the empty metallic bed frame before leaving my room.


    The ship was big, incredibly big. There were apparently tens of thousands of rooms just like this, each one packed with half a dozen of those little bug people. Even as I exited my room one of the little green things ran past me. It made sure to cross the hallway to put as much distance between us as possible as we crossed paths.


    It mattered little to me, I did not want to spend time with any of these aliens any more than I had to. I watched as it scurried away from me, speeding up as it passed until it turned a corner and ended up out of sight.


    I sighed before leaning against the wall and sat down. At four the octopus would arrive and tell me what I was supposed to be doing for the day. My legs were already tired from my short stand. My limbs had grown thin from my time in captivity and now struggled to properly hold my weight.


    So I waited, staring at the wall before closing my eyes and wondering how I had even gotten to this point. One day I was driving home from work, a new bottle of wine in the back seat. The next moment I woke up naked in that prison. Had the aliens been watching me specifically and waiting for the right moment? Or had I simply been at the wrong place and time at the moment of abduction? If I hadn¡¯t stopped at the store on the way home from work would I have been spared?


    For a moment I fantasized about sleeping in the office. Coming home the next day and being anywhere but here. How the smallest changes to my schedule might have spared me of this fate.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    A gentle nudge woke me from my daydream and brought me back to reality. I leapt to my feet before realizing what was happening. I looked to see the octopus I was waiting for writhing next to me.


    ¡°Is your sleep cycle nonfunctional?¡± It asked in its translated monotone.


    ¡°I slept fine.¡± I grunted.


    ¡°Lying is suboptimal. Goal is not wealth. There is no need for exhaustion.¡± They chastised me, but I shrugged it off.


    ¡°Can we just start with whatever it is we are doing?¡±


    The octopus silently stared for a moment, before turning.


    ¡°Follow.¡±


    I verbally confirmed the order, ¡°Understood.¡±


    We walked down the hall, and the same as before another insectoid pressed themselves into the far wall as we passed, shrinking away from me. I stared as the thing sped away the moment they were clear.


    The halls were spacious, and lacked windows or anything to break the monotony of the miles of metal and doors leading to places I wasn¡¯t allowed into. Everything was constructed from a dark gray metal, doors were placed at regular intervals with crossing H-beams set between them. This place had no art or windows. Nothing to break up the monotony whatsoever other than the creepy little aliens that would run past every so often.


    For how large I had been told the ship was, it seemed strange how few aliens I actually ran into.


    ¡°What kind of aliens are there on this ship?¡± I asked, ¡°The Ackiyon are gone right? So is it just you, me and those bug people with the gray masks?¡±


    ¡°Ackyon feared intelligent creatures rebellion. Intelligent breeding strictly controlled. Statistically most crew is insectoid. Small percentage of crew is capable of higher learning, they directly report to Ackiyon.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I muttered.


    The Ackiyon had a caste system designed to let them work as little as possible themselves. I wondered now if the insectoids didn¡¯t like being around me because I looked smart and thus like a manager.


    ¡°What are the names of your species anyway?¡± I asked. ¡°Is there anything I should know about the other people here?¡±


    ¡°My species has no verbal name, color communicate. Our designation is management dash amphibious dash three. The insectoids are labor dash one. Generally, three types of slave. Management, hauler, labor.¡±


    I walked silently for a moment, swallowing and clearing my throat. My heart hammered away at itself and I walked with sudden discomfort. I opened my mouth to try to ask another question but fell silent instead. What should I even say to that?


    We continued the silent march towards whatever it was they wanted me for as I was left contemplating. I considered myself and wondered why I felt such sudden tightness in my chest, why I had gone from questioning and curiosity to staring down at my feet and walking. I thought back to earth trying to pinpoint my problem.


    Was it medical? It felt hard to breathe. Some sort of allergic response?


    No, I didn¡¯t feel itchy, soreness in my throat or pain when I swallowed. I remembered boarding a plane when I was small and feeling the same fluttering heartbeat and urge to suck in oxygen. I concluded that I was panicking, or possibly just anxious. My body was subconsciously reacting towards my fear. I had felt similarly way back then.


    Was it the stark monotone delivery of the alien¡¯s slave system? Or that these aliens did not even have names beyond a numerical system that defined their uses.


    Finally, I realized the question I didn¡¯t want to ask.


    ¡°What is my designation?¡±


    The octopus continued along, oblivious to my sudden crisis.


    ¡°Currently unknown. That is goal today.¡±


    They stopped and pressed a button. The door opened with a slight hiss, and then we stepped forwards.


    ¡°Your medical history shows malnourishment, weakness from vitamin deficiencies and exhaustion.¡± They said in a monotone, ¡°Proper test diet will begin, followed by a physical test, and equipment measure.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I muttered absentmindedly.


    I had no real idea of what that meant. While I understood those words, physical test did nothing to tell me which muscle groups they would specifically be testing. Were they going to have me try a set of vitamins or finally feed me anything other than bowls of paste? Would I be lifting weights or running to test endurance?


    ¡°I¡¯m wearing jeans.¡± I stated.


    The octopus turned towards me, ¡°Is it formal wear?¡±


    ¡°No, it''s durable work clothes. It isn¡¯t meant for running or physical exercise.¡±


    ¡°That is optimal. Sit on Bench.¡±


    I sat down as instructed and started glancing around the office. There were no privacy curtains, beds or anything else I would expect in a medical office. Only a few desks and bookcases.


    ¡°I thought we would be doing this in the hospital, like the one they tried to cut me up in.¡±


    ¡°That room was contaminated. Too much blood on ceiling.¡±


    ¡°So then, what room was this?¡± I asked.


    ¡°A record storage room.¡±


    ¡°Why do they have books? Aren¡¯t computers better?¡±


    ¡°They are backups in case of EMP, software attack or data purge. Take pills.¡±


    The octopus wrapped a thick limb around a small metallic tray and held it to me, on it was a small set of fingernail sized pellets. They were oddly spherical and a pale white reminiscent of pearls. I reached out and began plucking them up, before cupping my other hand to hold them.


    The octopus stared at me, and I saw its strange oval eyes dart between the pills in my hand and my face.


    ¡°Ingest the pills.¡± It corrected itself.


    I stared down at my hand, feeling a slight trepidation for taking unknown substances. They could drug me and I could end up back in that cell, or strapped to a table-


    The artificial lights on the ceiling beamed down on me as I realized that the octopus was positioned ever so slightly between me and the door. Was this intentional? Each tentacle on the thing was as thick around as my thigh and I would have no chance against such a creature.


    My chest began feeling tight again and my breathing once again labored even though I consciously understood the situation. The other aliens were the bad ones, these ones would help me. They had not locked me in a small box, nor were they going to tie me to a table and cut me apart.


    I felt at the wounds on my chest for a moment. The pattern that had been carved into me ached.


    No matter what I told myself, I could not banish the feelings that this was a trick. That I would wake up back in that cell, waiting for when it was my time to be chopped apart.


    I swallowed nervously, ¡°What do these pills do?¡±


    ¡°These pills contain trace amounts of potassium, phosphorus, magnesium, calcium and thiamine.¡±


    Most of those were things I had heard of, potassium and calcium for example. For a moment I ignored my thumping heart and stifled lungs to open my mouth. I slowly brought the medications to my mouth and immediately gagged.


    The feeling of bile in the back of my throat overwhelmed me as my body fought on a subconscious level to avoid the deadly poisons that I may have just consumed. I clenched my mouth shut and held the small handful of pills on my tongue, feeling them begin to dissolve into a foul fluid.


    I could not bring myself to swallow. No matter what I tried my throat remained impassable. So me and the octopus across from me simply stared at each other until the vitamins broke down in my mouth and I managed to down the disgusting slurry of saliva and powder.


    ¡°Optimal.¡± Their translator stated. ¡°Now. Range of motion data.¡±

 7 - Computers

    I stood in the middle of an empty room, holding my hands straight to the side.


    ¡°Up.¡± A monotone voice commanded, and I did as instructed. ¡°Down.¡±


    My arms fell to my sides. This exercise seemed remarkably similar to jumping jacks but without the jumping.


    ¡°Up¡­ Down¡­ Up¡­ Arms in front of chest. Straight¡­ Down. Up. Down.¡±


    I pushed my hands out in front of me before lowering them to my waist and felt my chest burning where the demon¡¯s claws had dug into me. It was still healing and the movements were causing the injury to flair. For a moment I paused the exercise and clutched at my heart.


    ¡°You pause. Exercise is suboptimal?¡± The translator asked.


    ¡°Exercise is optimal. A previous injury is suboptimal.¡± I responded mimicking their dialect. ¡°Normally I would have no problem.¡±


    The person checking for my movement capabilities was currently outside of this small room. The shelves had been bare and moved outside so that I could perform the given exercises while they collected data on my body.


    The gray metallic walls stood out against the paler tripod holding some form of chrome sphere. That device that must have been a camera, and the small box beneath the tripod was the translator I had seen before.


    ¡°Jump.¡± It commanded, and I jumped.


    ¡°Jump forwards.¡± It corrected and I did as told.


    ¡°Continue Jumping.¡±


    In response I leapt towards the wall, then turned around and leapt towards the opposite wall. The room was small enough that I could reach one end from the other with a single jump and I repeated the exercise a few times.


    ¡°Cease action and approach the crate.¡±


    I turned towards a moderately sized metallic box in the corner beside the other equipment. I wondered if I would be trying to leap onto the crate next. This was clearly a number of physical tests to check for how well I could perform physical labor. Though given that every so often the octopus would stop and measure a limb I could also assume they were taking measurements for some sort of protective equipment.


    ¡°Lift the crate. Leave the room. Place onto shelf.¡±


    I sighed, this was definitely for some kind of work uniform.


    The metallic crate was oddly lightweight, though still large enough to be uncomfortable while holding it. I assumed it must have been empty. When I went towards the door it opened itself without having to use the button. Walking through the doorway I located the nearest shelf and placed down my cargo.


    ¡°Place crate on highest shelf you reach.¡±


    I paused for a moment, realizing that this was clearly a test to see how I would do at stacking boxes. Should I place the box as high as I possibly could? Or should I place it as high as I could comfortably?


    I could easily toss the box up onto the highest shelf, but what if I missed and it fell back down onto me? What if they assumed there was no risk of failure because I easily tossed the box the last few inches and I was given a job without them knowing heavier packages could fall directly onto my face?


    Instead I grabbed the box, stretched upwards and slotted it into the first shelf I could reach without having to pull my heels off of the ground.


    ¡°Optimal. Retrieve the crate.¡±


    I was suddenly glad I hadn¡¯t pushed it onto the top shelf. I reached up to lock my fingers onto the corners of the crate and began sliding it towards me. When it fell I easily caught the empty box and set it down at my feet.


    ¡°Optimal. Now. Place on shelf.¡±


    I found myself placing it onto that shelf and taking it down repeatedly, after about a dozen sessions the translator finally spoke up.


    ¡°Task complete. Wait in place for retrieval.¡±


    Another sigh escaped my lips as I found myself leaning against the wall. I had been told that this was part of a physical exam to check my well being. I was now realizing that their definition of ¡®completely healthy¡¯ meant ¡®capable of doing work¡¯. If my examination ended here then it was likely the only thing I would see in my near future would be crates that needed to find their shelves.


    Eventually my octopus caretaker wiggled back into the hallway, a door automatically closing behind them.


    ¡°Assist me.¡± They stated plainly before they began to shift the shelves back into the storage room I came out of.


    I rose to my feet and lifted half of an empty shelf, it screamed in protest as I dragged it towards its destination.


    ¡°Stack shelves against back wall.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I answered, it appeared that we would not be using time to properly space these shelves. I wondered whether we might need this room for testing again, or if the octopus was just lazy and leaving this problem for someone else.


    ¡°Now follow.¡± they instructed as the last shelf cleared the doorway.


    We walked down the same gray hall, passing by rows and rows of doors. Their color was ever so slightly different from the walls surrounding them. A slightly lighter metal? Or perhaps painted with a different brand of paint. I began to eye the doors, checking for possible cracks or chips that may reveal the answer.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Then I began to wonder if I was so bored that I was literally searching for signs of paint to pass the time. It wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest thing I¡¯d done, the weeks of nothingness that I had been subject to in my cell had led to a number of weird pointless games among me and the other captives. At one point we had ended up trying to count all of the screws in our rooms.


    My musing was interrupted by the only break in my monotonous surroundings I had found thus far. An open door. As we passed it I could see into the room, eyeing the small work station with tools I did not recognize. But among those tools was something I quickly understood.


    A computer, its dark background still provided enough light to catch my attention in the unlit room. The green text on the screen was too far away to disconcert, even if I could somehow make out the language.


    We moved on, continuing down the hall passing door after door until the octopus found the correct door. They then turned to me.


    ¡°This may take long time. Do not move. Understood?¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I answered as they turned away. I leaned against a nearby wall to sit. My limbs were still thin and I found myself exhausted from things I could do effortlessly before the abduction. Malnutrition and injury had robbed me of my strength. Even now I made an effort to not touch my chest where that demon had once cut into me.


    ¡°Brandon, Chell Armette. Diane Tykia. Lucas Bretton-¡± I went over the names again, Lucas had exercised regularly and would probably know more about physical recovery than I did. Would he recommend bedrest or exercise? I could easily perform squats or run, would that help me recover faster?


    My body ached regardless of how much I did physically. I felt bruises and scrapes along my limbs even beside the burning pain I felt in my chest every time I stretched my arms to the side. It was difficult for me to feel comfortable no matter how I sat down.


    I massaged the small of my back and stood for a moment before pushing a leg out and stretching forwards. This is probably what a health expert would tell me to do. As I rose I raised my arms upwards towards the ceiling. I then pulled my leg to my chest before kicking it straight out. Stepping forward I did the same thing on the opposite side.


    ¡°Why walk is incorrect? Injury?¡±


    I turned to the door, seeing a familiar octopus staring at me.


    ¡°No, I am stretching.¡± I corrected.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°My muscles are tight and they need to be stretched.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± It began staring at me and I managed to recognize curiosity.


    The truth was I didn¡¯t know why humans needed to stretch, I knew I had been told to but not why humans physically needed it.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t then I may injure myself while doing physical labor.¡±


    ¡°Optimal // research.¡± It answered in the same translated monotone, I wondered if it had used a word with a double meaning? Possibly something the alien found both interesting and wanted to investigate? It slowly backed away from the door, receding into the room. ¡°Continue, research later.¡±


    I nodded subconsciously before responding, ¡°Understood.¡±


    The door shut and I continued, first pulling my knee up and outward, then stepping forward into a lunge. I slowly made my way down the hall, twisting and leaning as necessary. Trying to copy what I remembered from highschool gym class.


    I lunged forwards and then twisted to the left, catching a view of the computer. I caught my breath and my chest began to flare up.


    I stood, clutching at myself and trying to suck in air. I leaned against the doorway and sank to my knees. Pain flooded my mind as I seized onto the ground and pushed my head onto the cold floor. I forced myself to breathe through the feeling of burning flesh and tearing muscles. Had I cramped? Pulled a muscle? Or maybe I had stretched the freshly closed wounds back open.


    As the pain receded I began gingerly dabbing at my breast and wincing as my hand came back bloodied. Red streaks stained my shirt and I wobbled as I rose to my feet, gasping for air like a fish out of water.


    I stood, free from the pain and stared forwards at the glowing computer monitor across from me. The room was not large, I could end up in front of that machine in two steps. I saw what passed for a keyboard. It had been built into the desk so as to not go flying across the room if the ship suddenly lost gravity. On the left side of the board were a series of arrows, and many of the keys resembled human letters or symbols. A modified ¡®Q¡¯ appeared four times with various slight changes.


    My wounds twinged and I looked down at the bloody stains on my chest. The pattern of symbols that had been carved into my flesh, an arrow, a backwards three, a-


    My eyes began searching the console, desperate to match a pattern I found.


    ~


    I felt myself turning slightly gray, the amount of tedious work I was expected to perform for a random unclassified alien was a boring irritation.


    My species was expected to perform management work, learned work. We were not the types to go scouring through data sheets and engineering books to design a hazard suit for some primitive that had barely escaped vivisection. I flared red for a moment. I had to do this work on paper! Paper, as in the stuff you made from plants. The primitive could recognize that and it likely hadn¡¯t even reached space travel.


    I would have to draft a suit for the human manually onto this paper, then manufacture it to specifications. It would likely take half a dozen prototypes to match its joints correctly and-


    I felt myself turning gray again. Paper-models were time consuming, if I had access to a computer I could upload the data I took onto a modeling-program then auto-update a suit that would match his physique before correcting the finished product. It would be finished in a few hours, maybe half a day at most.


    Instead I would be designing a suit, writing down the exact measurements to everything myself, then grinding the materials by hand until it fits. This was most definitely lower-rank work. I should be commanding a team on this.


    But orders were clear. Most of the systems were shut down, or to be more accurate inaccessible. Our makeshift slave rebellion had been countered in the simplest possible method. We did not know the password to get onto the ship¡¯s computer systems, nothing other than the most bare essential systems were online.


    Thus there was not enough high-work to perform. Without most of our computer systems no one could perform simple tasks and even something as mundane as a hazard-suit would need to be drafted without a computer¡¯s automated correction algorithm. Only using pure mathematics and skill.


    If I could somehow guess the password to a single computer we could not only use a password reset function to access the entire ship and cease spinning in the middle of the void, but I could complete days worth of work and prototyping in a few hours of simulations.


    I turned towards a tablet displaying some of the video I had taken, the cameras were not considered dangerous in the wrong hands so I could record the way his ligaments moved. I supposed I should start with his head, as that seemed the least mobile and jointed part of his body.


    A simple helmet could protect against accidental blunt force trauma, his eyes were firmly anchored onto the front of his face, he breathed through the small tube-thing directly under his eyes. The sound came from a detachable, bone-opening directly under the breathing-tube that was also used for ingestion.


    One tube ingested air, food, water and exhaled his sound-speak. I shuttered.


    Then I paused my draft for a moment, had I actually measured how far the bone opening could go? When he spoke, how much room did he need in his helmet to properly form words or eat?


    I flushed red in irritation, if this was a real time computer modeling program I could just point a camera on him and have him mimic movements as I designed a rigid helmet to protect from toxic inhalants and blunt force trauma. Instead I would need to remeasure every time I realized I lacked data on a body part.


    What data had I missed? I got important joint movements in the limbs but did I know what the feet looked like? He wore shoes during the exercises didn¡¯t he? Would I need to strip him naked and prance him around in circles so that I could get the interiors of this suit correct?


    His body was alien and unfamiliar, how many times would I design something only to realize that his arm shrank in diameter at various points? For all I knew I could design a suit and watch him molt in three weeks rendering everything I have done incorrect.


    Inefficient.


    I resented being given busywork just because there wasn¡¯t anything else to do. Even if there were no designated tasks for me I shouldn¡¯t be given such a low value and endless objective, what use could one biped be in a ship of this size? He would need to be micromanaged because he was a primitive who couldn¡¯t tell an airlock from a food dispenser but that didn¡¯t mean they needed me to do it. Anyone could follow him around and swat his hand when he tried to press buttons.


    As I crawled out of the door I turned through the hallway, I went from a red of frustration and indignation to a dark crimson of fury.


    The human had wandered off.


    That primate was now loose on the ship, running around and touching who knows what.


    ¡°Human, approach now.¡± The machine¡¯s monotone was no louder or more urgent than any other speech it emulated. I set the device to repeat. ¡°Human, approach now. Human, approach now. Hu-¡±


    I dragged myself down the hall, first in one direction then the other. Eyeing the sides of the walkway for some sort of sleeping form. Surely the human was intelligent enough to not run about and get himself lost? He must be napping somewhere, that was an optimal course of action.


    I tried to explain the rage. Enough intelligence to not get lost on an alien ship? Intelligent enough to not run from its one sole caretaker? Intelligent enough to understand the innate risks of space travel?


    No. Those were all excuses, the truth was that he should know better than to drive his sole caretaker into an all consuming rage.


    I saw a flash of light, a teal coloration leaking from a doorway and wrapped myself around the wall before tearing into an officer rank personal chamber. My longest limb wrapped around the human¡¯s waist before he even detected my presence and lifted him into the air.


    He had run off when I told him not to! He was touching ship equipment, an action which I had explicitly forbidden! He had-


    I glanced at the screen to assess the damage he had done and what I saw destroyed my line of thought. I subconsciously released the human who fell onto the ground with more force than I would have preferred.


    This computer had been unlocked.

 8 - Self Proclaimed Manager

    I laid on the ground clutching at my bones.


    A four foot belly flop onto a metal floor was not a pleasant experience. I focused on stopping myself from vomiting, clenching myself into a ball for a moment to avoid the wrath of my caretaker. When my breaths stopped coming in gasps and I felt the adrenaline lose its touch I uncurled to see the eight limbed alien fixated on the computer.


    Had I broken it? The thought of being responsible for damaging valuable equipment settled a primordial fear into me which filled my stomach like a lead weight. Surely, if I had done something terrible I would be punished equally harshly.


    The longer the creature stared at the computer screen the more I fixated upon my mistake and my sureness of punishment.


    Eventually the alien switched its eyes from the screen to me and for a moment it blinked, as if suddenly remembering that I was there. It wrapped a limb around its translator and I waited for the accusations.


    ¡°Was this terminal unlocked when you entered?¡±


    I paused considering, I actively had no idea. I could not read the words on the computer and had no idea what I had typed in.


    ¡°I do not know.¡± I answered, turning slightly to brace for a blow that never came.


    ¡°Was the screen glowing?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What color?¡± It drilled with the same bored translated monotone. The rapid changing of colors from red to yellow to its normal rocky-tan coloration gave away how emotional this conversation seemed to be even if I did not know what emotions.


    ¡°The screen was blue?¡± I ended up practically asking, I slowly moved closer and gestured to the keyboard. ¡°I pressed these keys right here.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± The monotone was backed by the octopus swinging a gigantic eye towards me. ¡°Why did you choose those keys in particular?¡±


    I felt towards my chest and winced, the wounds had been torn open again. Blood clung to my hand as it trailed down my shirt. I grasped the cloth and pulled it upwards revealing my bleeding wounds.


    The squid¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°They cut the password into you? Why? Could they not write it onto a wall?¡± They paused for a moment considering, ¡°What do these other symbols mean? Only some of these are letters.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I answered.


    ¡°Did they tell you this is password? Is this to ensure you live? To make you useful?¡± By the end the alien was no longer asking me, but seemed to be simply projecting questions. ¡°What do those other symbols mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I repeated.


    I sensed that there was something I was missing, an objective currently invisible to me. The octopus did not seem to care that I was on a computer as much as that I had managed to get onto it. Was it worried I now had access, or was it something else?


    ¡°Stay here, do not touch-¡± The octopus blinked, then flashed red for a moment. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    I began following, the creature walked out the door and waited for me to walk in front of it. Then we made our way down the labyrinth of halls and corridors.


    ~


    ¡°The primate knew the password? Why did it not tell us?¡±


    I stood beside the human, who I had placed into the corner to prevent him from touching more things.


    ¡°He did not know the password, one of the unknown operatives during the ship invasion cut the password into his skin.¡±


    My uncle turned a shade of green, then changed to a more questioning teal color. ¡°But why cut it into the primate? And why so much, do the stars and the other symbols mean something? It is not in any language I know of.¡±


    I considered the same questions, turning blue myself for a moment. But then I had wondered about the subject while making my way back to the bridge. The odds of me suddenly having a breakthrough in the next few seconds were low.


    ¡°We should focus on the more important issues.¡± My aunt decreed. ¡°The alien can wait. If we can access the captain¡¯s seat then we can begin mineral extraction.¡±


    Mineral extraction was of course the first step to ship repairs and standard operation. Micro-meteors were a constant source of wear on the outside of the ship; we would need to begin maintenance immediately and jump to a new system as fast as possible. If the Ackyon discovered news of this slave rebellion they would send actual military forces to make an example of us.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°It is imperative for us to begin operations immediately.¡± My aunt began. ¡°Begin equipping teams of miners, locate nearby sources of material, I want at least seven tons of hull plating in our storage bay in forty eight hours- no, wait.¡±


    She pointed to me and one of my hearts skipped a beat. Surely since I had been the one to discover how to access the computers I would be given an important task, good work being rewarded with more work was a standard corporate decision after all.


    ¡°Continue equipping the human. Ensure he is trained in a simple task, and while doing so investigate his symbols.¡±


    My hearts dropped, I was just given more busywork. ¡°I am old enough to be fitted for equipment. I should be able to-¡±


    Her glare was enough to silence me, and I subconsciously backed towards the door.


    ¡°This primate is favored by those rebel operatives who eliminated the Ackyon. Follow him and see if he has anything else we need to know.¡± She ordered.


    I wondered for a moment if this was busywork, a distraction meant to take my attention so that I did not involve myself in more deadly industrial activities. The reasoning was logical, but then most lies needed to make sense to be believable. Surely there was someone older and more experienced to decipher these runes if it was so important? But then, was the maintenance and resource acquisition the more important duties that demanded our most trained individuals?


    My question appeared to be self defeating. I did not believe my task was important, thus no matter what task I had been given I would feel upset about the role. I was doomed to covet the roles of others.


    ¡°Understood captain.¡± I responded.


    I made my way to the door and tapped onto the human¡¯s shoulder before switching my translator on.


    ¡°Follow.¡± The box intoned for me.


    The human shook his head up and down, ¡°Understood.¡±


    The device in my hands translated human-ese into Ackyon script and repeated his phrase into my comms system.


    ¡°Optimal. If you touch something again without my permission I will beat you mercilessly.¡±


    I was unsure of how well my translator would interpret that, but the human did turn pale. Did pale mean fear or anger? Either way the most efficient use of our time would be to go over the procedure on the way to the ship¡¯s drafting room.


    ¡°I am in command of creating your hazard suit. I will be making your helmet first, as damage to your brain lowers productivity more than damage to any other body part. Thus I will need to measure your head¡¯s bone food-processors and how your mouth flaps move.¡±


    The human said, ¡°Understood.¡± which translated to a sort of affirmation. But more than that I saw the way his head moved up and down, was human-ese partially verbal and partially gesture? His face colored sometimes to display emotion.


    I took note because while it didn¡¯t seem relevant I was currently in charge of the human segment of our command structure.


    I turned left when we reached an intersection and then glared at the human until he made the same turn. We were angling towards our drafting room which was slightly down the hall from the machining workshop. Since I now had computer access it meant that this suit would be a synch.


    The door whisked open and the human paused to stare at it, before hurriedly following me into the shop.


    Instead of working off of mere pictures like I had tried, I could now make a three dimensional model of the human. I pulled him closer and began wiping my limbs across his body, trying to get a feel of his bone structure.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Quiet. Let this happen.¡± I ordered.


    ¡°What? No-¡± The human started slapping at my tentacles before he pulled away and tried to run from me. Did he think I was going to eat him? That was stupid, raw meat carried all sorts of parasites and undocumented xenos had a high chance of poisoning you outright. They seemed to always hold far too many rare vitamines.


    ¡°Be still, I need to feel one of your orifices.¡±


    The human bit at me, but his jaws did not appear to be designed to cause crushing damage. It was not enough to get through the thick skin of my limbs. For a moment I casually wrapped around the flailing humanoid, eyeing the shelves on the left side of the room for the equipment I would need. I dragged the human over as I gathered a small computer-pad and a handful of trackers.


    It would be best to perform this in a small empty room, but empty space was an anathema to ship travel. Rather than perform my tests in the cramped room filled with precious computer servers, data-pads and modeling equipment I took him into the hall.


    I set the human down and handed over a limbful of small metal buttons, ¡°Here, place these trackers along your leftmost limb. Especially on the joints.¡±


    The human obeyed, nodding quickly and wordlessly. I watched as he began layering the small round devices along his arm.


    ¡°Include each finger joint.¡±


    The human nodded again. Moving his head up and down was clearly an affirmation gesture.


    With this I could now properly form a three dimensional model of his limb, a proper one that would allow me to more perfectly create blueprints for the machinists to follow.


    ¡°Now move your hand to mimic natural functions.¡± I ordered, bringing the data-pad to one of my eyes.


    I watched as the human froze for a moment, questioning what exactly was expected of him, before he stuck his thumb in an upward motion.


    ¡°No, I said to perform a natural function with that arm.¡±


    ¡°As akin to what?¡±


    ¡°Mimic natural functionality.¡±


    ¡°What would that be though?¡± He asked again. ¡°I don¡¯t even know what tasks I need to perform around the ship. Could you at least show me?¡±


    That question drove me to silence, for a moment I felt elation at how wonderful this worked out for me. I likely had been given charge of the human because I was considered too young to be involved in proper industrial work, but in all likelihood his equipment would need to be tailor made to protect him from said industrial work.


    What was the other option, to have him sit alone isolated in his bedroom where nothing could fall onto him?


    I rubbed a few limbs together, it may be possible for me to perform the human-task and the industrial-task simultaneously thus proving my superiority over my kin.


    So I translated a message, ¡°Follow me, you will be given a daily assignment.¡±


    I could not take anything considered too risky like attaching mag-anchors to space debris. But surely he could perform simple jobs like raw material grinding, or even basic mineral transportation.


    We entered one of the main factory floors, five nearly identical rows of machinery ran parallel to each other. The raw materials were collected from space in a nearby bay with void safeguards.


    Here the raw asteroids and ship chunks would be broken up into a fine sand, separated and refined into useful building materials.


    ¡°You will be part of running this.¡± I gestured. ¡°You and the other industrial workers will transform space debris into machine parts. I am in charge of directing you, and designing your hazard suit.¡±


    The human seemed captivated by the size of this facility.


    ¡°Ah, so you are the manager in charge of this?¡±


    It was such a simple leap of logic. Of course, if I was in charge of the human why would I not also be in charge of one of our resource extraction bays? I needed materials to design his suit, I would likely need a small team of machinists to perform the physical work. We would likely need to acquire said resources from somewhere, so why not harvest a high density asteroid or something?


    ¡°Yes. Wait here while I bring in a few sets of ten, no- a few hundred crew members. I will need to find workers experienced in this. And a few humanoids who share similar bodily design. And machinists!¡± I barely had time to translate my rapid color-code to a spoken language before I rushed out the door.


    Then I thought better and dragged myself back in to wrap a limb around the human. He clearly had a habit of playing with machines

 9 - New Duties

    To a human the process I had to complete might have sounded difficult. There were thousands of slaves on this ship, each with different certifications and experiences. Of those thousands, dozens would be needed to properly run a machining floor. I would need to separate out those certified to work in this designated area, of those I would need to find those with experience in ship based resource extraction and then among those select those who were mentally and physically fit.


    It was rather simple in all honesty. The slaves were cargo and all of their certifications were recorded in the inventory log. All I had to do was search for the cargo I needed and then


    ¡°Group 7174-87, please come this way.¡± The translation for this was a lot more crisp. They spoke using Ackyon script and those same aliens had spent hundreds of years developing it to near perfection.


    ¡°To start with¡± I began, ¡°we will need to design a prototype hazard suit for a new species. The goal is for him to take on a minor role in mineral extraction, something such as sorting or manual object transportation would be optimal. But if you have better suggestions I am open to them.¡±


    ~


    I laid upon the hard metallic floor, resting my head on my hands. The dark gray metal devoured my body heat like an ethereal predator. Slowly I brought a hand to my wounds.


    The scars that were cut into me, the screams of that doctor that had tried to dissect me, the dark thing that had stood over me on that table and set me free. Mentally I had grouped them all together. These were all events that should not happen. Normal people did not get abducted by aliens and no one on earth expected to get carved up by demons.


    But now I had enough distance to think clearly and I strained to put a thousand thoughts in order.


    There were aliens, these were similar to humans even if their shapes varied. They stood around conference tables going over powerpoint presentations, they worked in factories and used guns.


    Then there were those creatures that had killed the original owners of this ship. They were as tangible as a shadow and smiled as they tore people apart with their bare claws. They moved like a dancing puppet held up by strings, in ways that no normal person could hope to mimic.


    The main difference between the two was that I understood one. The aliens were materialistic, greedy and could even be described as evil. The distinction was that they were an understandable type of evil. A human type of evil. But the shadow creatures? I dreamed of them, though I rarely remembered anything more than that when I woke.


    What did they want? Why had they appeared?


    And why did I innately fear them more than anything else?


    They were directing me to something, but I did not know what. They spoke to me while I slept and no matter how I tried I could never remember why I rose to a cold sweat on the cusp of screaming every morning.


    Of everything I had seen and everyone I had lost. I no longer saw the dissection table when I closed my eyes, I saw them and it caused a primordial terror beyond the fear of my life.


    ¡°I know you are watching me. And I know you are not here to help me. So what is your goal?¡± I asked the ceiling.


    The ceiling, being an inanimate object, did not answer back. The small closet did not contain enough nooks for anything to hide. A single shelf filled with synthetic toilet paper and dispensers they used to hold soap covered one of the walls. A single row of foldable chairs took up most of the space in the room, affording only a small cleared walkway adjacent to the shelf.


    I had been told that I could take a nap here while they had a meeting outside. The room outside had been equipped with a small projector and they had been displaying some form of blueprint or map that I did not understand.


    They had begun talking in a different alien language that I was not privy to, surely discussing what was shown by the projector but that still left me in the dark.


    My body ached from physical strain and hundreds of minor wounds in addition to my carved up torso. There were bruises, abrasions on my skin and scabbed over cuts on my fingers and hands. I had spent weeks on a hard metallic floor, I had pounded my fists on my cell window until my fingers were rendered bloody messes. I was missing a fingernail from when I had tried to pry one of the hinges off and failed.


    If I had known that those shadow monsters were on this ship somehow, could I have saved the others?


    The question rang silently through my mind. Could I have somehow negotiated with them? Or found out what they wanted and used it before the others were taken?


    Why had they saved me and no one else?


    I am alone.


    The mental torment eventually proved to be too much. I felt my throat and eyes begin to sting as I struggled to banish the thoughts. As much as I tried I could not contain my greatest torments.


    Why was I here?


    What should I do?


    The most simple questions repeated themselves again and again, cutting me more deeply than any blade. What should I do? What could I do? I technically knew the password to the computers on this ship, but that didn¡¯t mean I could operate them.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    No, attempting to do anything with this ship would result in failure. The squid in charge of dragging me around did not like it when I touched things. It was unlikely that I could do anything with the ship even if I did have a plan.


    What would the others have done? One of them had been an engineer, was it Diane? Or had it been Lucas? Either one would have had some idea of what was happening right now.


    I brushed tears from my face but they were replaced just as quickly. I sobbed quietly for a moment, feeling the loss of everything I had ever known.


    Just as quickly as they came the burning emotions passed and I rose to my feet. I did not have a plan but I knew I had to learn everything that I could.


    These aliens would discover Earth. I knew that. Eventually they would come for my home, if I did not stop them my planet would be forever taken. Turned into a slave pit working for the monsters that could cut a human apart while they were awake and screaming without a blink.


    I had been told to enter the closet and that I could sleep, but surely there was something else I could be doing. I searched around me and pulled out my phone, then pulled my shirt off. I held my phone towards my chest and began staring at the dark reflection of the marks carved into me.


    A circle, within the circle a six pointed star, within that star was a smaller seven pointed star. Symbols aligned on each point.


    Some of these markings were a computer password, so what did the rest mean?


    ~


    ¡°You assembled an entire fabrication department?¡± My aunt asked.


    I drew my limbs back, shriveling slightly before puffing myself out in a display of confidence.


    ¡°I was ordered to equip the human, how would I do so without machinists and other assistants?¡± I asked.


    The slight tinge of pink equated to what a human would consider a frown. It was a public display explaining that she did not appreciate my sass. Though it was just the two of us right now, she was considered very much superior to myself.


    ¡°I wished for you to display your personal capabilities, instead you have brought in others to perform this task for you. How can I be sure that you are capable of higher tasks now?¡±


    ¡°I have displayed the ability to direct others and ensure a task is performed correctly.¡± I answered. My aunt stared at me and upon noticing that I subconsciously receded I puffed myself outwards further to reassert confidence.


    My aunt paused for a moment, considering. She glanced around the meeting room for a moment. Eyeing the table and the tablets laid upon it. The metallic floor was painted a slightly different color to signify the importance of this room. Eventually she crawled towards the side of the room and stared out the window overlooking the extraction bay.


    ¡°Permission to begin mining is denied.¡± She settled.


    ¡°But-¡± My colors flashed in our form of nonverbal communication.


    I had done everything right- The words laid unspoken as she continued communicating without giving me a glance, a very rude gesture that could not allow for an argument.


    ¡°We have delayed for too long, we must make at least four jumps to minimize our chances of being caught. Mineral extraction is a continuous process and we have enough in our holds to tide the ship over until it can begin again.¡± The matriarch then turned to face me, ¡°I will allow you to assist with overseeing the bay, you may be placed in charge of ore sorting once operations have begun.¡±


    The information passed through my brains and I froze for a moment before answering, ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°Optimal. The human is still your priority, you will learn what the symbols on his body means. It should not be too difficult of a cipher if it was meant to help us. You will perform this action in your spare time, after setup mineral extraction is somewhat autonomous. Begin production of human hazard equipment immediately.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± I answered, I felt a tinge of happiness reach my skin as my aunt walked towards the door and down the set of stairs that lead to this room. It had been positioned higher than the work bay to allow for management to easily see all of the worker below them. That also meant it was a good walk down.


    I stood and watched her until she finally left the bay before turning to survey the room myself.


    There were hundreds, or rather there were exactly one hundred and sixty seven people in here. It was a surplus and far more workers than we needed. However there was a stock of seventeen hundred total slaves trained in higher tier tasks aboard this ship. Far more than could work simultaneously given the limited amount of workstations.


    Thus I had filled every position in this factory and gotten a large number of emergency replacements. We had a reserve that could replace thirty percent of the workers here if necessary, far beyond the optimal reserve limits.


    The human was still in the supply closet, laying among the toiletries and extra chairs. For a moment I debated leaving to check on the prototype designs, but then decided against it. My job was to watch the human above all else. If I displayed incompetence at even simple tasks it was likely my new tasks would be ripped from me.


    Even if the human learned his lesson and stopped interacting with our technology, there really wasn¡¯t a method of ensuring he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to try and drink bleach-


    I felt my hearts freeze for a moment, surely the human was smart enough to not drink hand soap. Or chew on toilet paper and choke. What if he needed his stomach pumped due to a buildup of literal garbage?


    I whisked myself towards the closet door fast enough that I almost upended the meeting table and threw the plain stainless alloy door open.


    The human laid on his back observing his chest patterns, I almost flushed a relieved color but managed to keep my appearance unreadable.


    ¡°Human, is your shirt causing abrasion feelings on your wounds?¡± I asked, not that there was much I could do if it was.


    ¡°No.¡± He respond, ¡°Visual // sight was goal.¡±


    The translator struggled slightly with that phrase, at some point I may need to spend a few months learning their language to form a proper translator instead of this AI assisted suboptimal mess.


    I turned my eye across the rows of detergents on the shelf, none of them appeared to have been opened. Likewise there were no opened containers of toiletries or shredded paper on the ground. Hopefully this meant that the primitive hadn¡¯t eaten anything in here.


    I decided that I would give him a task, and then survey the room a bit better at a later time to ensure nothing had tooth marks.


    ¡°We have begun prototyping a hazard suit for you. The machinists have stated it would be easier to collect data by building a prototype aluminum shell and then noting how your joints interact with it. Aluminum is highly recyclable and easy to cut. We can manually create proper shapes that do not hinder your body¡¯s movements and then make a copy with more durable material.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± The human responded.


    We traveled down the stairs to the work bay¡¯s floor and the two of us approached my current team. One irvole stood next to a couple of the smaller insectoids. It was a large white furred creature adapted to living in the tundra of its homeworld. It was a biped much like the human.


    It leaned against one of the cutting-stations, a saw blade was attached to the table that could cut through hardened alloys. Normally this would be a severe violation of work protocol, the saw blade could cause serious injury.


    But the blade was not turned on and the irvole was an old experienced worker. I did not wish to start rivalries with my team over something so small. He was leaning well away from the blade and the table was not even online. The risk was minimal.


    ¡°Greetings.¡± He spoke in a deep growl, he did not use a translator and instead naturally produced Ackyon script via his mouth.


    ¡°Greetings.¡± I responded. ¡°Has the prototype arm set been completed? Place it onto the human.¡±


    We stood around for a moment and marveled at what we had built.


    We marveled at the fact that we had built it too form fitting. The human could not properly slide his hand down the limb-tube as the wrist section was far more narrow than his fist.


    ¡°I see. We will need to either expand that section and include a thick padding to prevent the armor from shifting as he works, or we will need to include some sort of latch.¡±


    Prototyping was a slow process.

 10 - Nothing Else to Do

    Space regulation hazard suits were incredibly complex pieces of machinery.


    In general you were required to wear one if your body was not designated as either ¡®resilient¡¯ or ¡®disposable¡¯ while working in more accident prone areas. It needed to protect vital areas from shrapnel or being crushed, it needed to ensure that deadly materials did not enter the wearer¡¯s eyes or other orifices. Things like glass or metal dust could easily enter the air in a zero gravity emergency and if ingested could cause lacerations of internal organs.


    It was known that insectoids had hearty bodies, but were also not rated for many more dangerous labors due to their body size. Thus they did not have to wear armor to prevent themselves from being crushed by heavy cargo. Due to the nature of space stations that constantly moved at high speeds, a few cargo boxes suddenly being launched at mach speeds was not an unheard of event.


    Despite not being allowed into large storage rooms insectoids were still outfitted with some serious protective equipment. As adolescents they would have a significant amount of their head¡¯s exoskeleton removed and they would be fitted with a hazard-mask that could filter out dangerous chemicals or dusts.


    The human did not have a natural exoskeleton to remove, and thus balancing his maximum load capacity with the amount of protection he needed was somewhat difficult.


    ¡°His torso contains all of his vital organs, but also his stomach cannot have plates installed. It needs high flexibility.¡± the irvole noted.


    ¡°A puzzle, learning even. How to be flexible and rigid is a paradox. But movement is a priority, the body must wander as it was designed. However will he regret his goal of wander when there is shrapnel lodged in his abdomen?¡±


    The insectoids grasp of language as a whole was controversial at best, but the meaning was fairly clear.


    ¡°It needs to be capable of withstanding crushing and shrapnel without compromising his ability to move. The same can be said for his inner elbows and knee-folds.¡±


    The total surface area of the back of your knees was much lower than the surface area of your torso. Not to mention that if a piece of metal did happen to rip through your limb it was much easier to repair or replace that than it was to fix the organs within a torso.


    ¡°Perhaps a scale texture? A plate over the upper torso which is much less mobile and a scaled-mesh over the abdomen. We can use wire or another material that will change shape with force and then layer small pieces of metal over them.¡±


    The insectoid thought for a moment before responding, ¡°How to attach small plates? You say a scaled hide would provide movement and staying, but how will you prevent the scales from wandering? They will only have a small point attached to the main body, they will be easily torn from the belly. Instead of scales you should overlap long plates.¡±


    I understood that, though I couldn¡¯t help but have a puzzled color leak onto my skin for a moment. Scales would be easily detached from the main suit and it may need constant repairs if that technique was implemented. I still felt the color of confusion flush over my skin for half a second, but I maintained a mostly stoic appearance.


    ¡°Hm¡­¡± The irvole grunted for a second. ¡°Yes, a number of long thin rows will allow for it to flex as he bends over. A type of splint armoring? There are precedents for that. Instead of small scales we could use interlocking plates.¡±


    ¡°Armor is to mitigate, not prevent. The plates may wander between 1.3 measures and 1.5 measures and allow his body to be free with the lowest of regrets. Shrapnel is a thought, and crushing or fire is an action.¡±


    I decided to interject, if only so that I was not silently watching. I needed an air of understanding in the subject matter to ensure I received proper respect from my subordinates. ¡°Yes, shrapnel is less of an issue than sudden temperature fluctuation or being crushed.¡± I answered. ¡°But from what I understand, the best defense against those is a thick alloy weave bodysuit. I do not think we need as much precision with that as the plating.¡±


    It was practically clothing at that point, it was a couple measures wide which might be the equivalent to a few human finger-widths. Altogether both the suit and his standard equipment should add up to about a fourth of his bodyweight.


    ¡°Cloth of width and rigid plates. A recipe is ancient and omnipotent, wanders to the minds of all. Ours is simply the most wander and the most useful.¡±


    I totally understood what insectoids said! Even if it was unintellectual garbage, ¡°Yes, a thick padding to absorb attacks with a metallic surface to resist stabbing is an ancient technique that we have refined.¡±


    The biggest difference between our hazard suits and ancient primitive kevlar was the utility, we could make this armor lighter than ever and thus easily fit far more equipment onto each person. He could have a radio integrated into the suit along with a heads up display, an airtight interior, mag boots, breathing filters and an oxygen tank.


    Depending on what his job was we could practically add as much mission essential equipment as we wanted due to the superior weight to strength ratio of our materials.


    ¡°How is the limb coming along?¡±


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°We have fixed the wrist, and accounted for the fingers. We will not be able to place any hard plates on the interior of the hand but the exterior elbow joint is completely covered with an overlapping frame.¡±


    ¡°Optimal. Can it begin hard copy phase?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The body mesh is still in production boss. I would suggest waiting until we can take measurements with that first.¡± The irvole commented, ¡°Maybe we should ensure that the other arm is a perfect match. It would be irritating if we merely reversed the prototype to find that the other had different wrist dimensions that aren¡¯t obvious from a glance.¡±


    ¡°Yes, measuring would be an optimal course of action. Copy over the aluminum model and attempt to make him wear that.¡±


    That was an obvious statement, surely he was already going to be doing that because that was the next logical step to gauntlet design. But if she didn¡¯t take command now then he wouldn¡¯t rely on her orders later.


    ¡°Understood.¡± He responded instantly.


    I nearly shifted to a contentment color, but instead kept myself static and presentable.


    ¡°Now, while you are doing that I need to work on some data regarding the human¡¯s chest wounds.¡± I stated using the translator to produce the words my mouth shape could not form, ¡°I will be in the upper office if you need anything, I am merely checking medical information for signs of infection or difficulty healing. I can keep a translator here for communication to the human if necessary.¡±


    ¡°Understood ma¡¯am.¡± He responded while slightly lowering his head.


    I turned, intent on my new task. I could have easily gone over the symbols I had cataloged here and now, but I needed to appear superior to them and the truth was¡­


    These two definitely had more experience than me. If I did not leave quickly they may learn of my flaws and begin questioning my leadership abilities.


    ~


    ¡°You are human?¡± The small box asked.


    I stared up at the large yeti-like being, he was reminiscent of a gorilla with a straight back or possibly bigfoot if they were old enough to get gray hair.


    I stared for a moment before the box repeated, ¡°You are human?¡± The thick monotone made it difficult to tell when it was asking a question sometimes and the way it pronounced human made it hard to pick up. Sounding more like huh-main than ¡®human¡¯.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, ¡°I am human.¡±


    ¡°Optimal.¡± The yeti grunted, ¡°Now, locate the glove into all limbs.¡±


    It didn¡¯t translate fully correctly, though I had been told that eventually the AI would pick up my language as we conversed. I grabbed a gauntlet and dragged it up my arm, then attempted to push my arm to the side as I dragged my other gauntlet up-


    The metal plates on my shoulder grated along each other to a halt, I became unable to pull my shoulder further as the metal locked up. The arm was too small around the shoulder and the joints didn¡¯t fit properly.


    ¡°Suboptimal.¡± The yeti cursed, ¡°Cut more metal? Make smaller?¡±


    The insectoid spoke up, ¡°Widen the view.¡±


    ¡°Ah, we could shift the metal upwards to fold better. Optimal.¡±


    I watched as the yeti pulled out a pair of pliers, pinched the side of the shoulder pad, and then bent the metal upwards.


    ¡°You are comfortable?¡± The yeti asked. ¡°Does the joints cut the skin due to movement?¡±


    ¡°No, the arm is fine. Thank you.¡± I answered. I flexed the weird metal on my arm. It was chromatic, almost perfectly reflecting the light and possibly one of the lightest metals I have ever held. An enormous amount was draped over my arm and it felt like a toy.


    ¡°What is this armor for?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Plate insert, the main suit will be alloy-weave. These rigid pieces will protect shrapnel.¡±


    Ah, I understood it now. This appeared to be some sort of SWAT armor, or possibly closer to an astronaut¡¯s suit. I wondered if it could protect me if those monsters came back.


    Probably not.


    ¡°Why do I need armor though?¡± I wondered out loud, ¡°Am I being conscripted?¡±


    A sudden sinking feeling felt my stomach, did they suddenly need soldiers? Surely I would be low priority, were they that desperate?


    ¡°Never, you are unuseful.¡± The yeti shook his mane slightly, ¡°No translations? Very suboptimal. They will never let you near a gun.¡±


    ¡°Then why do I need the armor?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Depressurization, liquid metal, heat, shrapnel, saw blades, metal fragments in the air-¡±


    ¡°Wandering unprepared, wandering metal, wandering air, wandering blades, wandering shipping containers, wandering at extreme speeds and then immediate un-wandering¡­¡± The insectoid joined in. ¡°Air wanders away and makes flesh things turn bright red and pthfthfh.¡±


    ¡°Ah-¡± I said suddenly feeling my heart rate skyrocket. ¡°Am I in danger now? Like, should we hurry?¡±


    ¡°Wander while ship is chained? Nothing will wander, there is nothing to chain to!¡± The insectoid chimed while waiving half a gauntlet around.


    ¡°Translate for the insect-man,¡± The yeti began clarifying, ¡°The ship is not moving. No work is performed. There are no moving saws or hot metal and no risk of hull breach or sudden turbulence.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The logical facts did not comfort my heart. ¡°So like, this will be finished before then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, or there will be consequences.¡± The yeti shook his mane again.


    ¡°They punish you?¡± I asked. ¡°Like, you are being forced to do this?¡±


    The thought of them being harmed over work gave me a sinking feeling, I had heard these were slaves. Another thought crossed my mind, was I worried about them or was I worried I was in the same situation as them?


    ¡°I am assigned to this, if in three cycles I have not completed this suit they will know I sleep instead. They will hold a welder to my genitals until it gets finished.¡±


    ¡°Like¡­ Literally?¡±


    ¡°Why does ¡®like¡¯ wanders into each verb? Why does the human like, like, like, like? Wandering words where they shouldn¡¯t be traveling makes speech hard to understand.¡±


    I sat for a moment questioning what I had just heard.


    ¡°What?¡±


    The insectoid huffed air through his mask. ¡°I like, am like, talk like, this like. I am like human like this like. Just talk normal stupid. And use your works correctly like this.¡±


    ¡°What? What? Wait- You can-¡± I sputtered.


    ¡°What? Like- what- like. You sound like a child apprentice manager, not knowing what to do and changing priority every five seconds. Let the words wander, so that they meet us on the journey.¡±


    ¡°How come you talk?¡± I finally got out.


    The insectoid answered without even giving eye contact. He continued to lean over a metal workbench, using a blowtorch to weld the limb armor onto a chestpiece.


    ¡°I was right next to the human cells for four weeks. My translator was on the whole time.¡±


    ¡°What? You-¡± Finally I understood. ¡°Your AI translated our conversations, like they said this one would over time!¡±


    ¡°Actually I learned English, idiot. You guys wouldn¡¯t shut up and I had nothing else to do.¡±

 11 - Meat Cute

    I woke long before I managed to draw myself out from under my bed. Slowly, I crawled from beneath the furniture while disregarding the mound of blankets I had used to keep myself warm.


    My first act was to look towards the vents in this room. There were two of them, one for heating located near the floor on the opposite side of the room and one for air circulation that was built into the ceiling.


    Neither of them looked to be tampered with and I told myself that the demons I had seen so long ago were mere hallucinations. Nothing was going to tear through those grates and come for me, at that point I hadn¡¯t eaten in weeks and was under a great deal of stress. It wasn¡¯t monsters.


    The fact I still slept hidden beneath my bed meant that I obviously didn¡¯t believe it, but even days after we had seized control of the ship no one had reported anything out of the ordinary. There had been no disappearances and everything was as safe as could be expected for a ship of slaves on the run from an evil empire. Only a few stabbings had taken place and those had been resolved.


    I did not need to get dressed, I only had one outfit and the aliens had no concept of my own biological extremities that other humans would find unacceptable. Despite this I slid my unwashed shirt over my head and jammed my arms into it as fast as I could. I could no longer stand the idea of going without clothing-


    Being tied to a table-


    I banished the thought and felt at my pocket to ensured the fallen¡¯s identifications were still with me. Then I strode out of my room and made my way down the halls. At this point I was trusted to walk to my workplace by myself so I didn¡¯t need to wait for my guide.


    So I made my way towards the workshop I had been assigned to. I breathed in the recycled air as the fluorescent lighting bore down onto me. The ship felt unnatural and part of me rejected my artificial surroundings, screaming at me to escape this place. My base instincts to flee from here did not account for the vacuum outside that would rip the life from my body in a heartbeat.


    My claustrophobia faded somewhat as I spent time on my feet, but never completely left. I had a thousand things I hated about this ship and for each and every one I had a reason to ignore it. The process of walking in a wide berth around every vent while stopping myself from obeying my instincts to rush out of the nearest airlock into the void¡¯s cold embrace left me tense at the best of times.


    Eventually I made it to my destination, I rapped my knuckles against the door a few times and waited for someone on the inside to open it for me. I was then greeted by one of those small insectoids, this one I knew personally.


    I waved, ¡°Hello Zrickick.¡±


    ¡°Hello John.¡± he answered. ¡°Still no key?¡±


    ¡°They have said key cards are not a priority when I asked.¡± I answered. ¡°It¡¯s going to take them a while before they can get into stuff like that.¡±


    ¡°Keycards do not take long to make at all, there is usually a handful of mechanic keys premade for engineering bays like this.¡± The insectoid responded. ¡°They need only assign one to you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess they are probably¡­ Busy.¡± I scratched at the back of my head.


    ¡°It is much more likely that they do not like you or do not trust you with a keycard, John.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, probably.¡±


    ¡°I do not think it is a probability. They made all of us keycards John, that is how I got in and how I am letting you in right now. I believe they are not making you one because you are a primitive species.¡±


    ¡°Okay I get it. Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You are very welcome John. You should learn to pick up on things like this.¡±


    ¡°Right. I heard the suit should be done today?¡± I asked to change the subject.


    ¡°It was done yesterday, we just told them it would be done today so that they wouldn¡¯t have us start testing forty minutes before our shift ended.¡± The insectoid started walking towards the far end of the machining bay.


    The bright orange suit stood out even from across a warehouse. The mere color was enough to stand out in the sea of drills and grinders. Few things in here were painted, even less of them were a fluorescent orange designed to be easily seen from space. If there was an emergency or structural collapse I would stand out from anything other than other hazard suits.


    ¡°Few species have full body protective gear like this. You and the irvole will be the only ones on this level.¡±


    I turned to the small green figure beside me, ¡°Why don¡¯t you have a suit like this?¡±


    ¡°I had parts of my head¡¯s carapace removed at adolescence and replaced with this helmet, my body has natural bone plating elsewhere.¡±


    The insectoids did have that going for them, they looked fairly well armored.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Will it protect against industrial accidents?¡±


    ¡°No, but the bone plating is too heavy to combine with proper protective gear. Our efficiency will drop to unacceptable levels. That is why each of the work stations have protective covers beneath the tables. We can pull these shutters down after we crawl under them, see?¡±


    They pulled on the bottom of a table and a metal plate out, they then demonstrated how it could swing down to turn the table into a sort of bunker. I made a mental note in case I needed to hide from something.


    ¡°So you guys can¡¯t wear protective gear?¡± I asked, ¡°Nothing they make properly fits you?¡±


    ¡°The shape is not an issue, the weight is. Some tasks do require protective equipment and usually those are performed by another species or we will wear the equipment for a short time and change out workers rapidly. Sometimes we may even have a surgical procedure performed to remove our exoskeleton so that we may retain body armor.¡±


    That made sense I supposed, I hadn¡¯t really thought about how useful having different species to fall back on was from a planning perspective. It seemed almost like the games I had played as a child, a specialized character combining both racial features and class features to become an optimal build.


    We approached our workstation, one positioned towards the far end of the room. I moved to my suit and ripped the straps up, loosening the chestplate so that I could pull it out and to the side revealing an opening guarded by a zipper. There were three zippers functioning as an airlock.


    ¡°These are very easily damaged.¡± Zrickick stated, ¡°These always break first, usually very small breaks. If they are bent they will no longer be airtight. Report tears or bends in the metal immediately and check this first if you seem to experience pressure loss.¡±


    I nodded, ¡°Understood.¡±


    I pulled the zippers open, then stepped into the suit. First shoving my feet into the boots, then pushing my arms through the sleeves, and finally pulling the helmet over my face before I went to tighten all of the various zippers and straps.


    To allow the shoes to get onto my feet I had straps similar to the ones on my chest plate, leggings and on the interior of my helmet. It allowed me to strap my head in place to prevent the thing from shaking as I moved.


    Finally I stepped back and observed myself in the mirror.


    A bright orange jumpsuit with a small backpack soldered onto the back-plate. The extra thickness and the way it jutted out along my sides hinted at armor plating, though there wasn¡¯t a way to be completely sure from looks alone.


    Gretch lifted his large white furred arm and slapped me in the chest, eliciting a thunk.


    I felt the impact in that my front plate vibrated in sync with the strike, but it did not do anything more than force me to find better footing as I stumbled backwards. It was much less than I expected given the size difference between me and the thing that looked like bigfoot.


    The irvol nodded, then balled up his fist without warning and blurred his arm forwards. The impact knocked me onto my ass after I went stumbling backwards to try and keep my balance. I fell and slammed by head into the metallic workbench that Zrickick was sitting on.


    ¡°Jesus dude, warn me next time.¡±


    Gretch tilted his mane, ¡°That would invalidate the point of the test, wouldn¡¯t it? Did you feel the strike?¡±


    ¡°No- No I think I¡¯m fine, Jesus fuck.¡±


    I reached up to pull myself to my feet, the metal plates sunk into my stomach and the weight on my back pulled me down. I ended up failing at sitting up to right myself, so I changed tactics and rolled to the side and pushed myself to my feet.


    ¡°The loss of mobility seems minimal.¡± Zrickick continued kicking his feet back and forth, the little insectoid was eating a bowl of nutrient slop through an openable hole in his mask. ¡°What happens if you put him on his head?¡±


    The bipedal gorilla grabbed my feet and pulled a shrieking me into the air.


    ¡°Now drop him, check to see if the helmet shocks work.¡±


    Gretch nodded and then I fell straight onto my head. The suit crashed against the floor with the sound of a dropped bowling ball and I flopped onto the ground with an impact that knocked the air from my lungs.


    For a moment I curled up, cradling my stomach in a fetal position. Then I muscled my way back onto my feet.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± I growled.


    ¡°We do need to test for suit effectiveness. Better to learn it does not work here than elsewhere. It seems to disperses force properly.¡± Zrickick thumbed through an empty bowl of nutrient paste. ¡°Do the knee pads work? Run and then slide forwards on your knees over the metal ground and we can check if the skin is intact beneath.¡±


    For a moment I started to ask if he was joking, then thought better. The alien seemed to be remarkably straight forwards. I ran forwards and managed to slide a few feet and felt no obvious pain. Whatever the bright orange material they used to cover everything was, it showed no strain from being dragged under me.


    ¡°It properly protects from abrasions. That is good, I did not know if the pads were properly placed to protect your knees.¡±


    I turned to the green figure on the table, ¡°You didn¡¯t know?¡±


    It shrugged, ¡°Knees aren¡¯t that important. Do humans not regrow knees?¡±


    ¡°No. We don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s better to make sure they don¡¯t get too badly damaged then.¡± It reasoned.


    I quashed the feeling of irritation that began to rise from my stomach. Clearly testing the protective abilities of the suit was a priority.


    Gretch, the yeti, put a hand on my shoulder. ¡°We have a jump at the end of the hour. Why not take a break for a few minutes? Have you eaten?¡±


    His translator seemed to work almost perfectly and I paused for a moment considering my responses.


    ¡°No, I haven''t eaten.¡±


    The yeti frowned, ¡°That is bad. You need to gain weight.¡±


    ¡°I know-¡± I could barely manage to down the slop we had access to. ¡°-humans don¡¯t tend to eat in the early morning though.¡±


    ¡°You can start bringing some in to work with you. Eat it in small doses as you work.¡± The irvole suggested. ¡°If you want I have found some other foods you may be interested in.¡±


    Gretch pulled a drawer open and pulled out a small package. It seemed to be a small box covered in wax paper, though the yeti tugged at one end and tore it open revealing a brownish color.


    Meat? He handed the block to me and it felt closer to wood. A solid block of compacted bits of flesh.


    ¡°Ackyon don¡¯t like the paste much either, they usually bring bits of food along with them. I can¡¯t stand the stuff, the chewing and whatnot feels weird on the gums. Not to mention this was probably some bugger¡¯s ass before it ended up in your mouth.¡± Gretch explained. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to cut chunks off with this.¡±


    He put a foldable knife into my hand, I looked between it and the block and then got to work carving a small bit of compacted dry meat to chew on. It tasted similar to most dark meats I had tried, if those meats had been thrown into a blender and then the resulting slurry had been cooked into a solid block and left out for a few days.


    It tasted awful. I shaved the block down and devoured two handfuls of the stuff.


    ¡°We should be warping soon. Put the knife away and maintain a seated position.¡± Zrickick ordered.


    I nodded while chewing on my cardboard like meat, I could see why the locals weren¡¯t super interested in this of all things. I closed the knife and tried to give it back to the yeti who held up a hand.


    ¡°Keep it. I have more.¡±


    When I went to pocket the blade I noticed an obvious problem, I did not have pockets.


    The insectoid noticed almost simultaneously, ¡°Ah! Prototype failure, we will need to add straps for bags!¡±


    The yeti nodded, ¡°Maybe a separate harness to go on the outside?¡±


    Then the ground started shaking, like the worst turbulence imaginable. The workbenches and heavy machinery began wobbling, producing a metallic creaking symphony.


    I tried to bite my meat block.

 12 - Power Outage

    I laid on the ground trying to keep my nausea in check. The ship was still shaking even minutes after I had first begun to lie down.


    ¡°Is it alwa- always this bad?¡± I managed to sputter.


    ¡°No-¡± The insectoid was interrupted by the sound of metal on metal as something heavy fell over, ¡°-Usually the shakes are weak enough that I can keep eating. Did something fall? Everything should be bolted down-¡±


    I laid on all fours trying not to heave my stomach up. The vibrations were getting worse, no longer was it a simple turbulence but a feeling akin to if a child had seized me up and swung me around like a toy. The entire ship was creaking, sheets of metal screamed as it folded against the metal bolts holding it in place. Another machine was flung onto its side and I felt myself being lifted.


    Gretch wrapped a paw around me and shoved me under one of the workbenches before slamming the shutter down. I was lost to the nausea and darkness, shaking, trembling. I felt bile begin to rise and began gagging, spitting up the scant bites of food and water I had managed to down all over myself.


    Then all at once as if it never happened the shaking stopped. The world became still again and I was left to collect myself.


    I ripped my helmet off and breathed for a moment, leaning against the interior of the small armored shelter I found myself in. After I collected myself I wiped at my face, trying to clear off what I could. The helmet had not magically cleared the vomit away and I was stuck using my suited up arm to wipe chunks off.


    ¡°Hello? Can someone grab me a towel or something?¡±


    I continued my work for a few minutes before I felt I was cleared off enough to open my eyes. I felt around the small box I was now in until one of the walls shifted slightly.


    This was the shutter they pulled down, why I was trapped in here.


    I moved my hands along the bottom searching for some kind of latch or release lever then tugged at the shape I felt on the ground.


    It didn¡¯t move. I vaguely understood that to get out I needed to pull on some sort of latch. I tried yanking it sideways and when that didn¡¯t work I rose to a knee, put both hands on the lever and pulled with all the strength I had.


    The bar wouldn¡¯t budge.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I hammered on the metal sheet with my fist, ¡°Hello! Can someone get me out of here?¡±


    I rolled onto my side and kicked the metal bar.


    ¡°Uh-¡± I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, ¡°I think I¡¯m stuck. Can someone get me out or-¡± I grunted again as I slammed my full weight into the latch.


    ¡°Calm down human, I can see the issue.¡± I heard Gretch¡¯s thick growl as the spoken language outpaced the monotone translator. ¡°The metal here is rusted and must have locked up.¡±


    I heard the irvole grab the shutter¡¯s handle on the outside and begin pulling, but the metal did not even creak in defiance. It was made to survive industrial accidents, even panicked as I was, I still knew you couldn¡¯t pull it apart with your hands.


    ¡°Okay. So get me out now.¡± I decided. ¡°Use power tools or something.¡±


    ¡°The breaker went off, I need to check on that first and get the lights on. Then I can see about cutting that open.¡±


    I felt my heart drop, ¡°Why are the lights off- You¡¯re gonna leave me?¡±


    I heard the irvole¡¯s footsteps pause long enough to reply, ¡°Just a few minutes human, something tripped the breaker and I worry some of the machines may have damaged their power cords. We may have some risk of fire or electrocution. Please wait there where it is safe until we can assess the damages.¡±


    I had thought it was dark because I was trapped under a few inches of sheet metal, but now it appeared that it was dark because the power went out.


    Shaking like this is not normal, something was wrong with this ship.


    The thought came unbidden along with a weight in the pit of my stomach. I had no words to describe how wrong everything felt. Beyond claustrophobia or my dislike of this ship or the sudden hardware failures.


    I hadn¡¯t seen a spec of rust since I ended up on this ship. Then suddenly we find one thing rusted and it just so happens to trap me in here?


    This is clearly paranoia, surely the aliens have oversights as well. I needed to stop flying into a panic every time something bad happened. That night on the table was a hallucination.


    No matter what I told myself, I knew in my heart I was being watched at this moment. This ship was wrong. The air tasted wrong. I felt the prickling of hairs on the back of my neck and I knew I was being watched.


    ¡°One rusted lock is easy enough to explain,¡± I tried to tell myself. ¡°They will fix the lights and then get me out of here.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t leave John. It isn¡¯t safe out there.¡±


    I leapt up and slammed my head into the top of my prison. Wincing I leaned back down and cradled my head.


    ¡°Hello? Who is this?¡±


    After a long pause in the dark the voice once again responded.


    ¡°It¡¯s me, John.¡±


    I recognized that voice. It wasn¡¯t the monotone of a translator nor the rapid humming speech of the insectoid. No it was female, human. The language was somewhat nasal, reminiscent of a French accent.


    The person this voice belonged to spoke French.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Diane? Diane is that you? They took you didn¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°They did John. But you need to listen to me.¡±


    I felt tears starting to form. ¡°Where have you been? I thought they cut you up and-¡±


    ¡°John. You need to listen.¡± She interrupted me, her tone was serious. Her voice was exasperated and tired.


    I felt fury raising within me, angry tears began to stream down my face. ¡°No- No! You listen to me! I thought you were dead. I thought I was alone and- and-¡± a sob pushed its way up my throat. ¡°Where were you? Did anyone else make it?¡±


    Her voice paused for a moment, ¡°No, John. I am sorry you were left behind. No one else made it.¡±


    My mouth went dry as I struggled with the lump in my throat. For a moment I had dared hope that they had survived too. That we had escaped the table and saws together.


    Her voice carried on once more, ¡°John, you need to listen. You are in danger.¡±


    ¡°From what? Are-¡± Were the aliens planning on something with me?


    ¡°Something is coming for you John. It carved its name into your chest. It knows where you are.¡±


    ¡°Those were- That was a hallucination! It was the starvation and pain that- No it wasn¡¯t-¡± It couldn¡¯t be real. Everyone assured me that it wasn¡¯t a demon, it was an alien special ops or a hired assassin or-


    ¡°You saw it John, now it can see you. It carved its name into you John. Its name.¡±


    I felt my breathing near hyperventilation. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°Its name is on you John. It wrote its name on you-¡± It¡¯s voice grew louder, no longer was it a quiet conversation but a panicked shriek. ¡°You are labeled, John and everything can see its name on you. It carved its name onto your flesh and now you have its name-¡±


    I tried to cover my ears, my gloves were too thick and uneven to properly seal the sound out. I shook my head trying to not hear what it was saying and then a realization struck me.


    ¡°No. No. No. No. Nononono.¡±


    The voice wasn¡¯t coming from outside of the metallic shutter, whatever was talking was stuck in this small metal shelter with me.


    I froze as my blood ran cold. I turned to face the impenetrable darkness beside me.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I cried out.


    It again paused for a moment, as if unsure of itself. ¡°You must survive John. You are deemed important. It is coming after you and you must not let it touch you.¡±


    I felt my heart hammering in my chest and I struggled to control my breathing. Even so I swallowed and tried to gain information.


    ¡°Why am I important?¡±


    After a long pause I heard Diane¡¯s voice again, ¡°You were chosen.¡±


    ¡°Why was I chosen?¡± My voice creaked as I struggled to form words.


    ¡°You are the one that¡¯s left.¡± It struggled to find words, slowly choosing each one with care. ¡°You are chosen because it wants to harm you. You are hunted, and therefore you are the chosen and must escape to fulfill your duties.¡±


    I panted, listening for more but heard nothing. An eerie silence dominated our shared space. Why was the sound of my breathing the only breathing I heard?


    I swallowed. ¡°How do I escape? You said that thing is out there? I can¡¯t hide here forever.¡±


    ¡°Soon we will leave you. But not forever. Fear it most during the crossings. The rules have changed because you are chosen, but the rules are not broken.¡±


    ¡°What is that supposed to mean? You aren¡¯t making sense? Who chose me? What is hunting me? How do I stop it? What are my duties?¡±


    This brought the dark thing to silence once again.


    But before it could speak light began streaming from beneath the metal shutters. They had fixed the lights, I turned and froze in pure terror.


    From the little that passed through the bottom of the shutter trapping me inside I saw what was left of Diane. Her chest had been carved open and her bones and organs had been removed, leaving an empty crevasse in the woman¡¯s carcass. Even now clamps held her frosted skin and muscles back to allow for easy access into the abdomen, her spine was visible from the front of her stomach and her eyes laid open, staring at me.


    Her lips began to move, ¡°A kiss is binding, John. Beware the thirteen fingered man.¡±


    I screamed.


    ~


    I moved a tendril over an incident report. Like all important things it was delivered to me via paper. Anything that meant anything had to be hard backed in case of computer failure, or hacking or¡­ anything really. Computers were finicky at the best of times.


    For instance, the human¡¯s hazard suit had a camera in it that could handily document everything he saw. Obviously if you have something as helpful for an investigation as that it meant that the creature wearing it would ejaculate half a litre of acidic fluid directly into it and then leave it half broken and facing the wrong way.


    Now I had been tasked by my boss to figure out if the incident was retaliatory or some kind of twisted joke.


    I had to do this with absolutely zero reliable witnesses, recorded evidence or electronic assistance.


    I massaged one of my limbs, the neurons within were practically cooking on the level of thought going into what was essentially a recursive loop. Someone jammed the lock shut on one of the industrial accident safety shelters. Someone tripped the breaker and forced the two managers out of the room to investigate. Then someone placed the dissected frozen corpse of one of the human¡¯s friends into the small box with them.


    So I checked the video feed, which was still capturing nothing but a wall and half of the human¡¯s ass. Then I checked the logs from the other parts of the ship. At the time of the incident no one was missing from their posts and no groups reported anyone not accounted for. After an emergency like this which caused threat to life and limb occurred, personnel counts were taken very seriously to ensure that no one was trapped under rubble or being electrocuted.


    Or at least that was what you told the slaves, it was actually to make sure no one stowed away anywhere.


    Then I checked the witness report, which was a singular report where an Earth primate explained that directly after hitting his head the corpse across from him started yelling that there were ghosts and demons on this ship.


    I rubbed at a few of my limbs¡¯ neuron lumps again, reading the human¡¯s opinions felt like a slow aneurysm.


    The ship is haunted, evil spirits, the dead are talking to me, they are in the vents.


    It was all looney superstitious nonsense.


    When I got down to it I knew three things:


    The first thing I knew was that someone had purposefully rusted one of the latches in the emergency shelters shut. I knew this because it was the only thing that displayed any rust in the entire warehouse that was made of corrosion resistant metal.


    The second thing I knew was that whoever it was had been close enough at the time to flip the breaker, in other words someone within the same workspace. I could narrow this down to likely someone within that industrial block.


    Finally the third thing I knew was that the human¡¯s helmet was unsatisfactory. My boss was going to yell at me if they learned we had not accounted for the alien¡¯s acidic projectile attack which the human could perform when it got stressed out. I was currently theorizing that it was meant to blind something larger than it if it got grappled and jostled around too harshly.


    Overall my solution to the problem was twofold, to search for missing chemicals capable of oxidizing the metal along with traces of whoever had taken them and to order my subordinates to rework the helmet.


    My goal visualized, I decided to perform the second action via sternly worded electronic-mail because I thought meetings were annoying and I had things to do.


    ~


    ¡°A new helmet design¡­ Accounting for a projectile acidic attack?¡±


    Gretch thought he read it wrong, then discovered that he had been correct the first time.


    He was vaguely sure that humans didn¡¯t do that. No, the acid was clearly much too weak to be a threat to anything and had chunks of half digested food in it. He had grabbed the human pretty roughly when he saw the machines falling over and had just figured the human had gotten the lunch squeezed out of him.


    ¡°When does the alien get back? Are they doing medical checkups on him or¡­¡±


    The insectoid took another bite of nutrient paste, then scratched their neck. ¡°I was told that he didn¡¯t have any actual damage, but they did lock him in his room because he was freaking out.¡±


    Gretch grunted. ¡°Either way, we do need to work on some sort of¡­ suction system? Humans are so moist all of the time. Did you see his shirt after he got out of the suit? It looked like he showered in it.¡±


    ¡°Hm, how dry do we keep him? Will removing all moisture make him ill?¡±


    Gretch was at an impasse, how was he supposed to know? The human was clearly descended from some kind of slug or something, so surely removing all of the slime from him was bad.


    ¡°We should focus on making sure he doesn¡¯t drown in his own stomach contents if he gets hit in the stomach again. Then bother him about the skin-slime later.¡±


    The insectoid nodded, ¡°There is knowledge in that statement- Yes that would be smart. What are your plans?¡±


    ¡°It would be easiest to put a little pump that will remove liquid if it goes beyond a certain point, put a filter in front of it to prevent it from getting clogged with stomach-clumps.¡± Gretch began piecing it together in his mind. ¡°But I do not like how complex the helmet is becoming, machinery with small moving parts are fragile and break down easily. No one wants a helmet that breaks easily. That is not why helmets exist.¡±


    ¡°I agree, maybe make it on activation? Make it so that he can pull up the faceplate to drain it?¡±


    ¡°But then if he vomits in a situation where he needs the helmet?¡±


    ¡°Maybe include a pouch that fits into the chest cavity, store the fluid for later where it can be emptied and include a sensor in the chest to prevent it from flowing back up.¡±


    Gretch nodded, the plan was starting to come together.


    He was an engineer at heart.

 13 - Warp Jumps

    ¡°Warp completed captain.¡±


    The captain¡¯s color changed to one of contentment, displaying their satisfaction with the work those nearby had performed. It was a token gesture as those in command were expected to have control over their emotions at all times. Coloration to display emotion was only ever used to communicate to others or enunciate their commands.


    For example, the captain might turn bright red while yelling at someone to ensure they understood how upset the captain was with them. But if the captain were to uncontrollably turn red due to extreme emotions they would be seen as unfit for office. Proper dictation was highly important for leading as no one could trust a ship to someone who could not make logical decisions in stressful situations.


    Surely the previous ackyon captain had held a stoic face and continued directing their units, even until their last moments before they were smeared across the floor.


    Now an escaped slave held the captain¡¯s chair, they needed to wrap themselves around it somewhat as it was meant to hold a humanoid form and not a large octopus, but it was in slave possession. This action was the closest thing to heretical their civilization had. If caught by the empire it would mean certain execution for the entire crew for allowing this to happen.


    ¡°Ship signs are green, captain.¡± one of the many limbed monstrosities reported. ¡°Nothing above superficial damage.¡±


    ¡°Statistically improbable.¡± the captain responded, ¡°What are the readings on the warp core?¡±


    ¡°Rapidly cooling, ready to begin jumping shortly.¡± They responded. ¡°No signs of overuse.¡±


    ¡°Statistically improbable.¡± the captain repeated.


    The decision had been a simple one. They would warp jump at random as long as the ship could hold out to reduce the risk of anyone catching them. With every leap the number of systems a pursuer would need to search to find them grew.


    But with every warp the ship would accrue damage to their hull as it impacted with asteroids and debris.


    They couldn¡¯t exactly detect micrometeors and most smaller space geodes which was why it was so important to keep on top of repairs. You repaired, you leapt, you took damage from bits and pieces scattered around the cosmos, you surveyed the area and then you repaired again.


    It was a simple loop. If they told someone that they had been on a ship who leapt over a dozen times with only superficial damages they would be called a liar. If she told someone that she had ordered the crew to leap over a dozen times without repairing they would have been called insane.


    For a moment she considered the situation, could someone have been somehow preventing them from taking damages? No, if it was possible to detect micro meteors while in subspace and avoid them, or else to somehow prevent your ship from being damaged by them there would be no point in the massive industrial segments of the ship.


    What was happening made little sense unless you dismissed it as a simple statistical anomaly.


    ¡°If a million ships make a million jumps, eventually one will land safely every time.¡± The captain concluded. ¡°This does work in our favor however, the odds of them finding us grows exponentially lower the further we travel from our last known coordinate.¡±


    ¡°Understood captain, we have received reports of damage to sublight engines eleven through seventeen. A cloud of shrapnel traveled up the exhaust ports and rendered them inoperable.¡±


    The odds of a cloud of space debris travelling just perfectly up an entire exhaust pipe rather than being lodged into the sides was also a million to one. The pipes curved specifically to prevent such a thing.


    ¡°Alert the crew to prepare for work, run a list of immediate fixes to our exterior teams and then post a bill to replace our used stocks.¡±


    ¡°Understood captain.¡±


    It was important to keep a stockpile of replacement parts for the ship. As you went through those parts you had more made using stored raw materials. Making more parts on the spot was a dangerous idea when the one thing between you and the cold void was the ship you needed to fix. If their engines had been damaged with no replacement parts they could end up stranded.


    Thus space faring ships were huge hubs of industry and storage space.


    ¡°Begin scanning our surroundings. Immediately report any foreign ships. Locate ores and track their trajectories. Attempt to catalogue celestial bodies during downtime.¡±


    The others within the room went to work, a significant amount of what the bridge did could be boiled down to observing their surroundings and designating areas of interest. A scanner searching for nearby magnetic fields flinched for a moment before turning to the color of surprise, turning to a sudden camouflage that broadly matched the color of its surroundings in order to hide from what caused such shock.


    The captain coolly noted the response and waited for the inevitable report.


    No report came, the octopus simply went back to work after staring for a moment. The captain knew they should drop the subject to display trust in their subordinates'' prioritizations. No one liked a backseat manager, surely they knew what they were doing.


    She noted many in the room had noticed the surprise response and decided to enlighten them.


    She slapped a limb onto the ground with a loud crack to gain his attention, before shifting her colors to speak, ¡°It appears many are curious, Green. What was so interesting?¡±


    Green, the octopus named after his favorite color, considered his wording for a moment. ¡°It was nothing requiring immediate attention, captain. I merely noted a sizable magnetic field within this solar system.¡±


    ¡°How sizable?¡± The captain asked.


    ¡°The size of the celestial body should be almost 13,000 kilometers.¡±


    That was a habitable size for a planet, a rarity in and of itself. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Then Green continued, ¡°Its orbit appears to be located within the habitable zone of the local star¡±


    ¡°Statistically improbable, but it does not meet many of the requirements to be considered habitable by most multi celled life forms.¡±


    ¡°Of course captain.¡±


    ¡°It would require some sort of satellite to prevent repeated asteroid impacts. A moon perhaps? As well as a source of dihydrogen-monoxide and the correct elemental compositions.¡±


    ¡°Understood captain.¡±


    ¡°The odds of that are statistically improbable.¡± The captain continued, ¡°The odds are one in a million-¡±


    Another octopus began to rapidly communicate, blinking between several dozen colors in rapid succession. They spoke fast to the point it was somewhat difficult to understand.


    ¡°It appears that this planet may be the largest source of dihydrogen-monoxide in the solar system captain.¡±


    Another spoke, ¡°I am detecting high amounts of oxygen and-¡±


    ¡°The range finder is picking up a green coloration and-¡±


    The captain turned a bright red for a moment, causing the rest of the room to quiet down as she drew their focus. ¡°First and foremost is ship repairs. Then we need to locate a source of heavy metals and base elements for extraction. After that we will then investigate the planet.¡±


    It was standard operating procedure. The correct order of priorities.


    First repairs, then ensure they had more raw materials in case of more repairs, then whatever else you wanted to do.


    It would be for the best if the rest of the crew were to perform the first two events quickly.


    ~


    I walked across the room to grab a bin, they resembled large metallic buckets with wheels, similar to minecarts.


    I then dragged the bin twelve feet before hunching over and flipping it down an open shute. I tried to keep my mind on work, though I knew it was only a matter of time before we performed another warp jump.


    After I finished emptying the bucket I pushed the cart back and left it under an open shute attached to the back of a large grinding machine.


    The job was simple, on one side were the grinders. People were breaking apart large chunks of rocks into smaller chunks of rocks and then putting those smaller rocks into the grinder. The grinder reduced it to sand and deposited it into a bin. I took that bin and then dumped it into another machine that would sort out the magnetic materials.


    Despite the simplicity of this job I still had many questions, such as why did this job exist? They could just have the previous machine drop the sand directly into the mag-sorter and cut me out completely.


    ¡°John.¡±


    I grabbed another bin, there were three total that I was keeping track of. As the other two filled I took this bin and dumped it into the same chute as the last.


    ¡°John.¡±


    There was a machining segment in this room where they could directly turn the iron-sand into a space alloy or something. Could I just put an order in for a pipe that could lead directly from one shute to another?


    ¡°John!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I turned to the little green person just outside of my workspace.


    The machine to my right turned on and the air was split with the sound of rocks being crushed and enormous gears turning.


    I could clearly see the green insectoid gesturing at me, so I turned to follow.


    The little green man rushed over and switched the machines off to prevent them from overflowing the bins and spilling over onto the floor.


    ¡°Check your visor, you got messaged over an hour ago.¡±


    That caused me to pause for a moment, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Your visor, it shows you when someone higher up wants your attention.¡±


    ¡°Since when?¡±


    The alien considered for a moment, it was true he never explicitly told the human about this. ¡°There is a panel you can pull open on your inner bicep. Inside are a group of buttons, press the green one.¡±


    I checked my armpit and sure enough there was a small piece of metal I could pull out. I thumbed the green one and saw a red pulsing circle in the corner of my visor.


    ¡°Why the armpit? That¡¯s a difficult area to reach, can we switch it to my wrist or something?¡±


    The alien shook his head, ¡°No, it needs to be located in a place unlikely to be damaged. The end of your limbs would be a terrible location.¡±


    ¡°Okay it says a bridge wants me, what does that mean? Also why have I been dumping sand all day? Shouldn¡¯t we just get a pipe or something to put the sand directly into the sorters or something?¡±


    ¡°Well no, normally the person in charge of moving the materials is also in charge of maintaining the machines, the grinders go through blades incredibly quickly and it is much more efficient to have that part easily accessible. The bridge is the captain. I can show you the way to the meeting room.¡±


    ¡°Is it in the same place as last time when we got put into teams? I don¡¯t need you to show me I can-¡±


    ¡°I was ordered to take you there. Immediately. Don¡¯t tell the captain off in their first few weeks or they will make an example out of you.¡± The insectoid prodded my gut. ¡°Bring up inefficiencies after a month or two at minimum, wait longer if you don¡¯t like them.¡±


    ¡°Okay. I just didn¡¯t want to be a bother.¡±


    ¡°No worries, I¡¯ll take an early lunch since we''re going right by the cafeteria anyway.¡±


    I followed the insectoid out of the room and I took another glance at the various machinery and people working them as we passed. The main product appeared to be a form of metallic shingle. It did not look like it would be out of place on a roof.


    ¡°The outside plating is formed of thousands of layers of this material with a gel between to soak up high impacts. We can run a magnetic charge to repel the blows from most micrometeors assuming we don¡¯t leap directly on top of them.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I responded. The tiles did not look particularly thick and I wondered what the gel they supposedly used between them was. As we passed the cafeteria I debated asking, though I doubted I could get anything of note. Most things translated to their official chemical buildup. Knowing the gel was dihydrogen supercarbide or something would not help me unless I could write it down.


    I would have to learn of this later to properly study the process more and document it in my journal. When I got back to Earth I would then be able to pass on the knowledge to someone who knew what to do with it.


    ¡°Well, this is it. I will be leaving now.¡±


    We stood in front of a door, it looked the exact same as all of the other doors.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I tried to clarify, I couldn¡¯t see how he was disconcerting them.


    ¡°Yes. Go to the meeting. I am goodbye now.¡± The insectoid answered while continuing to walk down the hall.


    I sighed, then reached out to enter. The squid¡¯s shape in general made me uncomfortable and I would have preferred to not go in alone. The door slid itself out of my way and I took a deep breath before walking forwards.


    ¡°Hello I am John, human. What was I called here for?¡±


    I expected to see octopi the size of cows writhing about and blinking through the rainbow at each other. Instead I came face to face with a group of insectoids and too many to quickly count.


    ¡°John, human. You were designated for scouting party one hour ago.¡±


    ¡°I did not know how to operate the visor.¡± I claimed, ¡°I am still learning and did not notice your call.¡±


    ¡°Understood. Meet with your supervisor after our priority has been completed.¡±


    ¡°Got it. So are we moving to mineral location-¡± I looked closer and saw that the insectoids had a curious attire.


    It was not mechanical equipment. It did not possess full body protection in case of shrapnel nor did it allow for short journeys through a zero gravity environment. The thick electromagnetic boots designed to prevent you from being sucked into the void were gone.


    Two thick plates sandwiched the drone¡¯s torso, leaving its shoulders and limbs bare. It no longer wore a metallic mask, but rather a full helmet with a glass face and a thick metallic layer over the top of the head.


    I could recognize this, it was similar to military equipment from home. I was starting to see the rifles stacked against the walls and the magazines tucked into pouches along the insectoids¡¯ waists.


    ¡°What are we doing? Am I now part of a police force?¡±


    It made sense I guess, I was much larger than the average insectoid and had no useful mechanical training. Surely I could follow direct orders and throw a bug into a cell if necessary.


    The insectoid with a blue stripe across his chest piece answered, ¡°We have been told that we will be scouting something. That is all.¡±


    Why us though?


    No, I corrected myself.


    Why was I here? Had I been deemed as nonessential? Was I to be used as fodder for some military campaign I didn¡¯t know about? What was I going to be scouting? Do I-


    ¡°Do I get a gun? You have rifles.¡±


    ¡°You lack work experience. Also your body type is incorrect for these. Also they are advanced space technology you do not understand how to operate.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a rifle-¡±


    ¡°You will not get one.¡± The alien finalized.


    The insectoids all stood as one, one moment they had been relaxing and the next they were on their feet simultaneously. I felt myself panic, had I said something wrong?


    The blue striped insectoid turned to me, ¡°We have received orders to mount an exploratory cruiser. This planet¡¯s main species appears to be human.¡±


    Human?


    My brain froze as I felt myself being prodded along by the insectoids around me. My first thought was of Diane¡¯s emaciated corpse.


    I had no idea what was happening, where we were, or what we should be doing. But whatever it was the only thing I could think of was the safety of numbers that humanity would provide.

 14 - Human Values

    I was going to leave this ship.


    No, that wasn¡¯t quite correct. I mentally noted.


    I was finally getting the fuck off of this hellhole and as I waited in the shuttle bay I went over a mental list again and again.


    Things to say and do, what people needed to know, everything I was planning to do to save the human race from their alien overlords before I left everything to the government or someone who knew what they were doing.


    Admittedly it was not much. I needed to tell someone important that aliens were real and evil. Then I needed to describe the technology I had seen to the best of my abilities. Though it pained me to admit it, delivering the news of the fallen was my last priority. I still carried their IDs in my pocket, one belonging to every person who had died in those cells.


    They were still a serious priority of course, I could not forget them no matter how hard I tried. But the most important thing was continued survival of both myself and my species, delivering the news of the fallen was not time sensitive.


    I knew it would have to be done via paper or word of mouth. The aliens were far too advanced technologically to win a fight electronically. It was possible they would intercept any call or message I tried to send. I however knew for a fact they kept paper records in sealed and armored rooms because paper could not be easily targeted.


    All of my plans depended heavily on how long I was staying on earth and it was likely I would need multiple plans depending on various factors. If the current aliens in charge of me were willing they might officially contact Earth with all of the proof I needed.


    If not I would find someone I knew, my family or close friends. They would believe me and they would have the time to tell others long after I left. With me I brought undeniable proof of the aliens and a paper containing most of what I knew.


    The proof was a relatively simple object. I had found a piece of one of the Ackyon, a clawed hand. The corpse had been shredded to pieces but even after two weeks it refused to rot and felt oddly cold to the touch. I wrapped it in a torn waterproof bag that felt similar to plastic.


    If I could find someone I could trust then they could show this to the government or something and then they would have to listen to what I would tell them.


    A translated voice rang out across the shuttle bay, ¡°Now boarding, enter the craft and prepare for headcount.¡±


    I followed the line of insectoids into the shuttle, a high altitude stealth craft with an extremely angular design. It was painted vaguely blue and was one of the few things in my new home bearing any semblance of color.


    ¡°Forty heads and one human accounted for. Forty rifles? One, two, three-¡±


    As I sat I watched the alien actually count each one, ensuring nothing was left behind.


    The alien with blue stripes spoke again, ¡°If we get down there and any of you aren¡¯t wearing your chest plates I will execute you.¡±


    I gingerly felt towards my chest, a familiar plate held fast against my fingers. It was obvious even through the layers of padding in my hazard suit.


    One of the insectoids sitting next to me slapped me in the chest and then once more on the back. Each strike elicited a thunk from the plates designed to stop me from being cut in half in a workshop accident. It nodded towards Blue Stripes and I leaned back into my seat.


    If I asked the aliens for permission to share information with humanity then there was the chance I could be told no. In that case they would then actively work to prevent me from doing so. I had my order of operation down. First when we got down to Earth I would need to find out where I was, namely which country.


    There was no reason to bring me along unless it was for communicative purposes, so we should be stopping near somewhere that speaks English. I should not have any problem finding someone willing to believe me, or at least someone who can analyze the alien hand I was going to give them. I would give them the hand and a letter containing everything I knew.


    The biggest problem I could think of that would stop this, was if the aliens I worked with did not know how many locations on Earth I would be barred from via a language barrier.


    ¡°Hey, uh¡­ Where are we landing? Is it in America or- uh¡­¡±


    ¡°We are landing on the planet designated Human Habitat Two.¡± Blue stripes answered. ¡°You will be helping us communicate with the local inhabitants as we scout for resources or objects of interest.¡±


    I then had a very obvious question. ¡°Why is it named Habitat Two?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Do they speak English?¡±


    ¡°They speak the same human-ese that you do.¡±


    That did not comfort me. Were there two worlds with humans on it? Has humanity advanced enough in the years I had been gone that they had colonized another world? Or had humanity already lost everything and been packed up like cargo to be shipped elsewhere as slaves?


    ¡°So we are going down there and doing what exactly?¡±


    ¡°Our objective is to scout for resources and objects of interest, you may be needed to facilitate communications between us and the humans.¡± Blue Stripes repeated.


    ¡°I know that but like, who will we be talking with? Local leaders? Rural farmers? Random woodsmen who bump into us?¡± I left the question open ended.


    If we were to drop by the White House then a large number of my problems could be solved. I could hop off of this ship and trained professionals would be able to take over my duties immediately. Rather than one scared and confused human this ship could have dozens of Navy Seals or something.


    ¡°You will be speaking with humans if necessary.¡± Blue Stripes repeated once more.


    I felt a pit forming in my stomach, ¡°Do you know what our goal is? What resources and objects of interest are we searching for?¡±


    The Blue Striped leader stared at me for a moment before replying, ¡°I do not want backtalk. Be silent and follow commands.¡±


    I began to wonder if he knew what we were supposed to be doing when we got to the planet. These were slaves and likely raised in an urban industrial setting, would the people in command even know how to approach a planet where most of the world was still claimed by nature? It sounded like the higher ups knew they needed to scout a planet but had no idea what ¡®scouting¡¯ meant.


    Or maybe the command did know what they wanted, but failed to properly articulate what they needed from their scouts? It could be that being an alien world. they had no preconceived notions of what may or may not be important and they were simply keeping an open mind while investigating this planet. Every habited world could have different fauna and mineral formations to the point there was nothing obvious to scout for when first introduced to a planet.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I decided on my reply, ¡°Understood sir, I apologize for my comments.¡±


    ¡°It was inconsequential.¡± Blue Stripes disregarded me, the translators had recently been speaking incredibly clearly.


    As he began turning away I seized onto the opportunity. Clearly brute force and demanding information would fail. The optimal route would be to convince him it was in his own interest to give me what I wanted.


    ¡°You said that you wanted me to help with human relations, are you familiar with more wild cultures?¡± I asked as innocently as I could. ¡°Like have you ever met someone who grew up in a tribe in the forest or some such?¡±


    The leader regarded me for a moment before answering. ¡°No. I have not.¡±


    ¡°I see, I am just asking because as your human negotiator I thought it would be helpful for you to know that human settlements can vary greatly by their locations. For example cities in the desert would be willing to trade large amounts of money for ice, and cities in cold locations will pay a large amount for fuels like coal or oil. We could use those things to trade for information.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I can keep this in mind.¡±


    Then I used this foothold to ask an innocent question.


    ¡°Do you know where we were told to embark? I would be able to plan negotiation points better if I knew where we were. I am worried I might not be able to prepare correctly without basic information.¡±


    It was a flawless negotiation, I wasn¡¯t suggesting anything. I merely brought up some information that he was not privy to.


    ¡°Our drop point is not set. However we cannot deploy into an unreasonably cold or hot area.¡± They responded.


    I had heard before that the insectoids had little in the way of temperature regulation, though I had no idea whether it was natural or bred into them over time. There was no natural need for temperature regulation in an artificially heated environment like our ship.


    ¡°So then, if we wanted to reach a town we should consider dropping down near a river. Maybe somewhere in a forest?¡± I tried to reason.


    ¡°Our goal is not human contact specifically, but scouting and locating important resources and objects. Contacting the locals may be necessary to facilitate our goals.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well obviously. It¡¯s just that humans will likely know where any dangerous objects or valuable resources are.¡± I said, ¡°They might also be more informed on poisonous or deadly plants in the area, some can poison you just by touching them.¡±


    Blue Stripes looked at me for a moment before asking, ¡°Are some plants really so dangerous?¡±


    I sank my metaphorical fangs into the weakness they revealed.


    ¡°It depends, in some areas plants build toxins to ensure animals avoid eating them. Some are thus quite toxic to the point that contact can debilitate someone. Then, you know, there¡¯s the ones with sharp barbs, poisonous spores, carnivorous plants¡­¡±


    ¡°Plants can be carnivorous?¡± Blue Stripes asked and despite the monotone of our translators I heard fear.


    ¡°Oh yes, they aren¡¯t like normal animals, they lay there with their mouths open and then when something ends up on them they snap close and begin digesting whatever it caught alive. You can¡¯t always tell where they are because they are the same color as their surroundings.¡±


    ¡°I see. Then stopping at a human village to learn of nearby threats may be more important than I thought.¡± Blue Stripes gestured to the chair, ¡°Wait here while I report to the higher ups.¡±


    My heart sank, though I made sure not to give it away. The octopuses were supposedly much smarter than the insectoids, would they give my deceptions away or notice my ulterior motives? Venus flytraps were not dangerous to people even if they were technically carnivorous and you would have to be an idiot to become severely injured from a thorn bush.


    I waited in silent fear to be told I was to be removed from the mission or punished by the leader I had deceived. Eventually a small message popped into existence in the corner of my visor and this time I answered it.


    Do you believe local fauna may be a threat to our operations?


    I responded in writing. Yes. I would like to learn from local human settlements about the subject to ensure mission success.


    After a moment there was a reply.


    Understood. I will message your captain about new orders. What supplies will you need?


    I didn¡¯t even have to question what I would need, I messaged back. Humans value gold and silver, I have seen little use for it on this ship, a fist sized chunk of gold would be more than enough.


    Understood, I will alert the captain and you will assist in picking an embark location.


    I had to stop myself from cheering. I could pick where we landed. It was obviously going to be Washington DC. I would chuck a package containing an alien¡¯s hand and a few pieces of gold over the fence and then google a bunch of dangerous plants or something and tell everyone I was with that I had traded for it.


    A map popped up on my visor and I froze in place, my sudden silent cheer replaced by dread.


    This was not a map of Earth. I recognized nothing, the continents were misshapen and the oceans were far too small. It all but lacked ice caps, which should have meant Earth was flooded but instead it practically seemed to lack a sea.


    I zoomed in, feeling the map grow in front of my face until it grew too pixelated and unfocused to make anything out. My panic surged with my heartbeat as they both seemed to hammer at my chest to the point I thought I could burst. The unfairness of it all brought a stinging to my eyes, I had mistakenly gotten my hopes up once again.


    As quickly as the emotions had overwhelmed me I banished them. There was little time for anything but survival right now. If this so called ¡®Human Habitat 2¡¯ had humans then I would need to speak with them about everything.


    I knew that most human cities sprung up around rivers and along coasts. Fresh water was an important resource and oceans allowed for easy trade via shipping. So I searched the coasts for an inlet and from there I followed a river until I found my source of civilization.


    The map did not seem to render enough detail to make out a city, but miles upon miles of farmland? Discolored squares dotted the landscape near the river and the obvious deforestation had left its mark.


    ¡°I believe this will be the easiest place to gather information.¡± A rural area. Enough for me to learn of this place¡¯s language and technological levels. I would have to scout this place out first, no longer sure of a friendly greeting. With the language barrier I could easily be seen as an outsider or some kind of neer do well. Even if this world was as forgiving as my original I will still be dropping into a random country without any identification.


    They had told me this planet shared a language, but how did that work? They spoke ¡°humanese¡±, did that just mean my alien leaders assumed humans all spoke the same language or did we actually share a language?


    I could tell them it would be best to drop right in the middle of the city, cow them into submission and then convince the humans of the threat the aliens posed before leaving. But with the threat of the language barrier I feared we would be mistaken as enemies.


    I needed to learn enough to give an actual advanced warning and make contact often enough that I could learn to replicate the technology on this ship and transfer it to the humans on this planet.


    Thus the answer became clear. ¡°We should drop in a few miles away in the forests here, then make our way this way towards the settlements. This will allow for minimal exposure to the forest and minimal chance of the barbarian humans from running from the magic alien ships.¡±


    Blue Stripes spoke, his monotone translator buzzing for a moment, ¡°It is a good plan. I was going to drop into the mountains over here.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It is a good vantage point to see things from far away.¡± They answered.


    I wondered for a moment if he could not see the snow on that mountain, or if he just thought it would be the same temperature as the lands nearby because they were in the same general area.


    The slaves may have never learned of places outside of their industrial hubs, they clearly lacked obvious knowledge that even most city bound humans would understand. Standing on the top of a mountain would not be comfortable or a good starting point for a scouting mission.


    ¡°Ensure you are seated, we are beginning our descent onto the planet.¡±


    I sat down in the nearest seat and wondered if they had managed to pack the precious metals I asked for.


    Then the ship began to rise and I felt my curiosity begin to spike. In movies you would see a shuttle leave the main ship through some form of glowing energy barrier designed to keep the air in. I had not seen any evidence that these aliens had energy shields or force fields or anything. I turned to look around the cabin but saw no windows behind the seated insectoids.


    ¡°How does the shuttle leave the ship without the ship losing air?¡± I asked, some kind of vacuum chamber or airlock surely.


    ¡°The ship moves through a long hallway filled with mercury. Electromagnets hold the mercury in place and the ship dives through it for a few moments.¡±


    I nodded, ¡°And how does the ship move through that?¡±


    ¡°Burns fuel. Goes fast? I don¡¯t know.¡±


    I made a mental note, the order I needed to steal their technology was metallurgy first, then ship designs, then everything else. Weapons and armor were probably up there somewhere.


    ¡°How good is your rifle? What size bullets do they shoot?¡±


    Blue Stripes, a liberated slave, glanced at me before speaking.


    ¡°This big.¡± They held up a finger and a thumb measuring an approximate size.


    I supposed that of all things a slave wouldn¡¯t know, it was things about firearms and ships.


    After a few hours of sitting quietly and wondering where I could go to learn these things on the ship I finally heard my next step.


    ¡°We have arrived, secure the perimeter.¡±


    Blue Stripes stood and I saw him kick another insectoid awake. Forty insectoids charged out of the shuttle pointing their rifles at anything that moved, including the trees that were mildly shaking in the wind.


    One by one they hit the ground and began crawling forwards on three limbs while keeping their oversized rifles up with one arm. They took cover behind the trees and in small divots in the earth.


    I stepped out of the shuttle with my back straight and gazed upon the sea of green, the ground was covered in a thick moss that grew up the sides of the pines that surrounded us. The tree¡¯s needles had fallen to the ground and made piles of brown decaying leaves and pinecones.


    I tore off my helmet and ignored my leader who shouted in protest. For a single minute I closed my eyes listening to the symphony of trees waving in the wind and birds singing in the distance. I breathed the air and tasted the scent of grass and moisture.


    I had almost forgotten how great it felt to breathe. The small enclosed box filled with recycled air and drank recycled water that had been consumed a thousand times was no substitute.


    The minute was not long enough, but I could not stand there in the middle of nature being yelled at by my superior as long as I wanted. I put on my helmet and advanced forwards boldly knowing that there were no vents hiding monsters and no frozen corpses that blinked and spoke.


    ¡°Sorry, I thought I heard a predator. I took my helmet off to see if I could smell them.¡± My excuse silenced Blue Stripes.


    We were on a planet and here I was in my natural habitat.

 15 - A Gravel Road

    Hiking was a lot harder than I remembered.


    I was a lot weaker after my confinement, despite eating as much nutritious and calorie dense nutrient paste as I could stomach at every opportunity I still had a somewhat gaunt frame and sunken cheeks.


    Sweat built up on my brow and I instinctually went to wipe it, swatting at my own headgear once again. The chest plates in this suit dug into my shoulders and compressed my torso making a full breath of air near impossible. The suit needed to be rigid and tight fitting to protect me from damage properly, but at the same time it limited many simple movements.


    I gasped in another breath of air, I was almost over this hill. Going downhill was preferable to uphill, though it was remarkably harder than I expected as the loose dirt was prone to rolling out from under my feet.


    Each breath pushed out a gust of hot air, though it did not fog my visor it did collect directly on my face.


    All this was to say, I fucking hated wearing armor. Alien make or no. I was sure this suit was far lighter than it should be and the air filters didn¡¯t actively restrict my breathing but it was still incredibly uncomfortable.


    I passed a sitting insectoid and then came to my senses. I had been staring straight down and pushing myself forwards with such focus that I had not noticed the insectoids had stopped moving completely.


    ¡°Sit human, we will continue after a short rest.¡±


    Bluestripes waved me down, usually he was somewhat aggressive with his demands and prone to kicking people who didn¡¯t follow orders fast enough but now even he was slumped against a tree and breathing hard.


    I hunched down, then thought better and found my own tree to lean against making sure to position myself where my leader could not see me.


    I pulled my helmet off and wiped at my face while panting like a dog. I felt at my neckline and pulled a thin tube to my mouth to inhale some water. Food was to be given at designated feeding times, but water was considered a necessity. The entire system was contained within the suit so that I could hydrate while dealing with deadly materials without risking exposure.


    Normally you would clip the tube onto the inside of your helmet so you could reach it more easily, but I had been ripping said headware off too often. I was overheating from the layers I wore.


    ¡°How much further?¡± I panted at an insectoid sitting vaguely close to me.


    Well, closer than the others whom I was hiding my helmetlessness from.


    ¡°We are one miles away from the separation point.¡± It stated through a translator.


    I felt relief, one mile was doable-


    ¡°You are seven miles from your destination. You are to walk six more after we stop so that we do not scare the locals.¡±


    My internal water pouch went dry, I felt a moment of panic as I had only filled my mouth a handful of times. It shouldn¡¯t run out that fast. I looked up at the insectoid across from me and realized that it did not seem to be sweating. I risked a peek around the tree and it seemed that none of them did.


    Different water requirements?


    I put my helmet back on and turned on my coms, ¡°I have run out of water, I require more.¡±


    ¡°Negative, we did not bring replacement nor purification tablets for the stream at the bottom of the hill.¡±


    Seven miles without water was going to suck. I wondered if I should just risk waterborne parasites.


    I sighed, after a few minutes I stood and stretched my legs. It was going to be awhile before the insectoids were ready to move again. They sat around for something like an hour after every mile. Did the exertions raise their body temperatures? The lack of sweat would mean they could not move continuously in most climates.


    Was that a product of being raised in sterile facilities for so long? They did not need to regulate temperatures on a ship. Though it was clearly incompatible with hiking forested hills on a summer day.


    I stood, walking back and forth to keep my limbs active. Two minutes into this break I heard a scream.


    The insectoid across from me rolled onto its feet and sprinted off with its rifle, I followed suit chasing after the noise.


    My steps were heavy, I snapped a branch underfoot and kicked through a pile of leaves. Once again I felt the weight of fear. I had felt so free in the natural world, there were no vents to avoid and no dark rooms or metal walls to trap me.


    But the natural world was also dangerous. I crested a tree and saw the problem immediately.


    An insectoid flailed about, as if having a seizure. Bluestriped was here and a dozen other nearby insectoids aimed their rifles as their screaming, panicking kin. Their rifles were useless, their advanced ballistic plates and helmets rendered ineffective by the massive swarm of insects covering their squadmate.


    It screamed and swatted but could not remove the hundreds of creatures as their squad stood dumbfounded.


    I rushed forwards and screamed into coms, ¡°Bees. Clear the area immediately.¡±


    They were wearing fancy ballistic weaves that would stop their magic explosive rifle rounds. I was wearing a hazard suit meant to keep deadly swarms of objects on the outside and me on the inside.


    I lifted the insectoid and threw him over my shoulder, the weight forced my boots down into the dirt and I launched myself down the hill. I felt the ground give away as my sprint turned into a barely controlled skid, the hill was too steep and I couldn¡¯t keep my footing.


    I reached out a hand and seized part of a bush to stay upright, my weight and the force of the fall pulled off the branches I managed to grab onto even as it slowed my descent. The ground was too loose and wet, the hill was too steep, and there wasn¡¯t enough vegetation to arrest my fall. I felt myself hit the ground and did my best to not fall onto the insectoid I was carrying.


    The air was knocked from my lungs, even as I grabbed the person I dropped I struggled to breathe. I took five steps forwards and dropped him at the edge of the body of water before falling onto my ass.


    The alien continued flailing for a moment before the insects retreated. I sat, sinking inches into the mud as the alien lay under the shallow water for a moment.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    We breathed through our masks as the last of the angry insects buzzed at my orange uniform and flew away.


    ¡°I am appreciate.¡± The alien said after a long pause.


    ¡°No problem,¡± I responded through the huffs of air.


    ¡°Why were those flying cartridge shells so angry?¡± They asked.


    I had to consider how to respond to it in a way they could understand. ¡°Bees produce a highly nutritious and antibacterial nectar and guard it to the death from other animals. Did you get stung too badly?¡±


    The insectoid began moving under the water, ¡°They did not pierce my skin easily, but there was a concentrated effort where the skin is thinner.¡±


    ¡°Like where?¡±


    ¡°Armpits, groin, ankles. Covered in sores.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not good.¡±


    The insectoid continued to lay in the water, breathing and speaking through an emergency space oxygen supply and communicator.


    ¡°It does not feel good. I hate trees and bees.¡±


    I grunted, ¡°Those stings are poisonous. Keep talking over coms so we can make sure you aren¡¯t going into shock.¡±


    ¡°I really do not like bees.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess- Oh there¡¯s Blue.¡±


    Bluestripes walked down the hill, slowly crawling down onto rocks and taking a longer winding path down the same hill I just sprinted down. They took four minutes to do what felt like seconds to me.


    Granted they didn¡¯t fall directly onto their face and almost pass out climbing down.


    ¡°Subject is alive?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°The bees have retreated?¡±


    I shrugged, ¡°I can¡¯t tell if any more are clinging to me.¡±


    ¡°Squadmate, can you walk?¡±


    The insectoid started rising from the water, I winced and pulled a dead bee off of him.


    Out of him? It was only still on him because the stinger was stuck to his flesh. I walked around the alien and made sure there weren¡¯t still insects clinging to him.


    Bluestripes nodded. ¡°We will take some of the bees back as samples. As of now I believe that this area is too hazardous for our current equipment. We will be staying near the water in case of more bee ambushes.¡±


    I swallowed, ¡°I uh, still need to-¡±


    ¡°Yes. You will advance to the human civilization and bring back a book of every dangerous creature in the forest. If we are ambushed again we will contact you on the threat so that you may direct us through it.¡±


    I nodded. This was acceptable. ¡°I can go, keep an eye on the injured one. Those stings are filled with poison so if he starts getting worse he might need immediate extraction.¡±


    ¡°Yes. We have a few first aid officers here. Take this, I am tired of carrying it.¡±


    He handed me a handful of silver slabs, each one almost the size of a deck of cards. I turned to leave, it was time that I advanced and met my first humans since being abducted. I stared at the shrubs and trees on the opposite river bank.


    Then I thought better and turned to my current superior. ¡°I need supplies to make it on my own, bandages, a weapon in case something attacks me uh¡­ water.¡±


    The leader looked me up and down for a moment before reaching to his side and unclipped a pouch before handing it back to me. I held the eight inch blade in my hands for a moment before looking back at him. ¡°I will call a first aid officer to give you a wound clot spray.¡±


    ¡°This is not a weapon. An animal would tear me apart. It would not be very intimidating to humans who probably have longer, better knives.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t have a rifle.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± I felt my voice raise into a whine.


    ¡°You are not authorized for conventional weaponry. You are deemed a risk of accidental misfire or self harm.¡±


    ¡°I know how to use a weapon, humans have rifles too you know.¡±


    Bluestripes once again stared at me, analyzing me. I could feel his gaze through his mask.


    ¡°If you are trained with firearms then tell me what the five basic weapon handling rules are.¡±


    I felt my mind go blank, how was I supposed to know what alien rules there were to gun use?


    ¡°Uh¡­ Don¡¯t point them at people?¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Do what your boss says? Don¡¯t rebel?¡±


    Bluestripes laughed, ¡°You will not receive a rifle. I cannot accommodate your risk to others.¡±


    I sighed, it''s not like I could force the issue. I clipped the knife onto my belt and accepted a small bottle of spray that would seal wounds. Then I turned once more and faced the river. It was easily a hundred feet across.


    I could walk through the river, my suit could withstand vacuums and one of the tests to ensure it was airtight had literally been to walk through an indoor pool.


    But part of me stepped back unconsciously. I could not see the bottom of this body of water and I did not know what was in there. If you went down too far it would undoubtedly become dark as the light was blocked by sediments and everything else in there.


    Instead I turned and began to follow the river downstream, passing only a single glance back at the insectoids and their rifles before rounding a hill and ending up out of sight. I eyed the trees, taking in the greenery that I had missed so much.


    I ripped my helmet off of my head once more and walked amid nature, taking in the smell of grass and moving water alongside the sound of birds and trees waving in the wind.


    Back on earth I had rather disliked the outdoors, the constant wetness that covered everything alongside the biting insects made for an unpleasant combination. I mused that old saying, you don¡¯t know what you have until it¡¯s gone.


    Even the flies and small mosquitos were a nice change of pace from the monotone grey hallways and buzzing fluorescent lighting.


    Everything, I was learning, had a sound. If I closed my eyes I could tell that there were rivers and trees and bugs. A stark contrast to the silent groaning ship. The sound of the river was a constant rushing torrent, the trees sounded like an ocean, the birds were silent¡­


    The birds were no longer making noise. I ducked and shifted behind a nearby tree.


    Why had the birds gone silent? I knew what that meant, but what would be nearby that made the birds quiet down?


    A predator? A bear or a tiger?


    No, these would not be things that preyed on small birds. Reasonably they would be scared of hawks or other small predatory animals. Nothing that could harm me.


    I breathed to calm myself down, this was a normal thing to run into and the area lacked the sense of wrongness that I had learned to associate with demons. This was clearly animals and not anything else. I boldly stepped out from behind my tree to continue on my way.


    I turned and saw a face staring at me, I paused in alarm.


    It looked young, a man of no more than sixteen and yet he towered above me. Tall and thin, he possessed clear muscle definition and little in the way of clothes. As I stood frozen he looked me up and down, before turning and walking into the forest. His footsteps did not disturb the plantlife and his movements made no noise despite everything he walked upon.


    His ears. I couldn¡¯t move, I stared at the sides of his head as he vanished behind a tree.


    Then I found the will to move and tore through the shrubs and tree branches, desperately attempting to follow the man I had just seen. Emotion filled my throat and desperation to meet another person filled my being. I gashed my face open against a branch as I dove through the foliage with no sense of self.


    I began screaming incomprehensibly for him, searching for any signs of the man. I continued running in the same direction even as my path began taking my uphill and away from the river.


    Vegetation wrapped around my legs as I stumbled over exposed roots. Forests being giant masses of plant and animal life meant that every square foot usually had something living in it that I had to avoid tripping over.


    As I crested the hill I spun, calling out while looking for the person I had seen. Stumbling into a sudden clearing, hearing the sound of gravel under my feet as I panted from the sudden burst of movement.


    Gravel.


    I slowed my panic and checked the ground beneath my boot. A long path of gravel cut in two directions. A road, which meant that I was close to somewhere people traveled to.


    My heart somehow accelerated beyond what it had been. I was so close.


    It was true that this was gravel, and not something as serious as asphalt or even stone. But I could see how vehicles had repeatedly driven up and down this path leaving dirt tracks where it had pushed the gravel out of the way.


    It was a worn, well used road and that was more exciting than anything I had seen in weeks. I began to muse about what I should say. I had planned this out and knew what I needed to do but hadn¡¯t had a change to actually go through a conversation.


    Hello, my name is John and I¡¯m with this group of aliens- but not the ones who are going to be invading this world and enslaving you- Yes that¡¯s right trust me but don¡¯t trust the others also tell me where the fancy resources are so I can make my boss happy.


    I shook my head as I walked.


    Hello my name is John. Do you happen to have a hospital here, because I totally got stung by a bunch of bees earlier. Trust me long enough to direct me to a place with doctors and medical equipment for hands. Also why do bees and pine trees exist on your planet and my planet simultaneously, can we have some bees because ours are going extinct? Oh right, but back to the matter at hand. Here is an alien claw that you can biologically test. It has different DNA than us or something to prove aliens are real.


    Outside of the comedy, some of that was correct. I should visit a- actually maybe I should pretend like I can¡¯t tell what animal the claw came from and visit some kind of animal research facility or a veterinary office. They should know more about nonhumans than doctors do.


    I could ask them to identify what animal this came from, then act surprised when they say it doesn¡¯t seem to share common ancestors with us or something. Or at that point would I come out and say that I was with a group of alien rebels?


    I heard footsteps, once again I had zoned out and neglected my surroundings.


    My heart leapt into my throat, a lead weight dropped in my stomach. I felt tears in my eyes as I struggled to find the words to tell the first human I had met since those days in the cells.


    I felt my words die on my tongue.


    They were a bright blue, almost fluorescent. So brightly colored that it almost hurt my eyes.


    ¡°God damn it.¡± I whispered to myself before I decided to radio this in.


    This thing clearly wasn¡¯t human, it didn¡¯t even have a mouth.

 16 - My Sword

    ¡°Because they are blue- no, humans are not blue. They are generally either pinkish-tan or brown.¡±


    It was intriguing, the way that he carried a conversation.


    ¡°Yes, no. Wait yes.¡±


    The man in the orange outfit stood there arguing with himself in a muffled voice, clearly his headwear prevented sound from escaping though I had no method of verifying how exactly.


    ¡°They don¡¯t have a mouth, how am I supposed to ask them?¡±


    I sat in the brush, twelve feet from the man. I could only assume it was a human because they showed no signs of noticing my presence. Humans had somewhat dull senses.


    The make of his armor did throw everything into question though, it had a slight gloss that caught the light similar to enchanted equipment. Though most of it could be identified as some sort of leather variant there were obvious plates covering the torso.


    That brought up some questions, like why a mysterious armored man was running through the woods or where this person got this strange outfit. In general humans considered body armor expensive, so he should be highborn in some sense if he has full body protection.


    If that was the case where was his entourage? Rich humans flaunted their wealth and for that reason they needed a group of bodyguards to prevent them from being robbed and killed by the poor.


    I watched as the human approached the silent monk and began asking questions.


    ¡°Can you point me towards town, I believe that I got a bit lost-¡±


    He continued as I sat in thought. He didn¡¯t know where town was, he was lost and he had no nearby companions unless they could avoid my notice.


    A foreigner? Someone unfamiliar with these lands?


    It would match the unique apparel. A narrative was forming in my mind. Somewhere nearby there is likely a caravan, this person was separated from said caravan either from an attack or from him getting lost in the woods.


    I wondered if I could collect other examples of his equipment for study, but quickly disregarded the idea. Armor was far too cumbersome, humans were endurance predators capable of moving long distances while carrying weight. Elves were ambush predators that needed to quickly overwhelm a target before their own stamina ran dry. It was why humans made such excellent laborers.


    I could walk out and crush the human¡¯s neck before he realized I was there, but I could not strap fifty or sixty pounds to my chest and march to Porton and back.


    I decided on my next move. Slowly with precise movements I raised myself from the ground and walked forwards. My footsteps carried me with silent grace towards the human.


    ¡°The target does not seem to be responding, I¡¯m going to disregard. I will begin following the trail towards a possible town.¡±


    The human continued his one sided conversation so quietly that few creatures would have been able to even recognize that he was talking. It was far too structured to be the ravings of a madman, could it be that he was somehow communicating with someone?


    I would have to find out.


    The human turned to leave my blue companion and almost ran straight into me.


    I watched as his eyes went wide, I could see them through the glass he had on his face, he stepped back and his hand went towards his side to grasp a knife I had identified before I even stepped out of the brush.


    The movements were so slow, they were untrained. I could have grabbed his wrist and broken it before he even had the chance to go for the knife.


    Instead I noted that his only weapon was a belt knife, what had happened to his main weapon? People in armor had larger killing implements as a rule, did he not have a halberd or at the very least a sword?


    When humans ran they tended to leave such things behind, had his caravan been ambushed?


    In the time it took for the human to find words I had concluded that I could find his caravan nearby.


    I decided to speak first, adopting a friendly grin I had practiced in a mirror for years designed to fool a human.


    ¡°I see you reaching for your blade, though I would hardly call that a weapon. If you seek a duel then I will answer.¡± I placed my hand across the hilt of my elven made rapier. ¡°Though, you seem to be troubled. Looking for town was it? I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your conversation with my friend over there.¡±


    The human relaxed the grip on his knife, then straightened and tried to figure out where he should put his hands.


    ¡°Uh, yes I do need to find town. If you could show me the way then that would be very helpful.¡±


    I gave him an overexaggerated bow, customary for high ranking lordlings. ¡°Why of course. Why do you not travel with us? I can tell you are not used to wandering alone. Lost in the woods was it? You could come with us to Porton to charter a ship downstream.¡±


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Yes, thank you. I would love to travel with you. Though uh, would you mind telling me what this is?¡± The human pointed to the blue silent monk behind him. ¡°They don¡¯t seem to be able to communicate.¡±


    The human showed no fear towards me, nor the monk. It was so strange that I didn¡¯t even pick up on it at first. Most humans avoided the silent monks on principle, the color and strangeness warded them like a spell. Humans were generally intimidated by elves as well, or at the very least walking up and speaking to one was something only the bold would do.


    ¡°Well, as they are a silent monk and have taken an oath of silence I doubt they would have a conversation with you if they could. It would be a violation of their oath and whatnot.¡±


    The human seemed surprised, ¡°Ah, so the reason that they don¡¯t have a mouth is¡­¡±


    ¡°They have sworn to the pact of Cheburim, strange that you haven¡¯t heard of it. It is a great honor for most of your kind.¡± I stated.


    Where had this human come from to not know of this? People were taken from across the lands to prevent depopulation in any one specific area. Even outside of the empire¡¯s territories these things were spoken of.


    ¡°Oh, of course.¡± The human lied. ¡°I simply have never seen one up close.¡±


    That could easily be the case. But if that were true¡­


    Why was the human not terrified of the monk¡¯s alien visage?


    Both never seeing a clearly inhuman creature and not being even mildly fearful did not happen. He even looked somewhat curious, watching the thing with a newly acquired interest. Humans never reacted like that.


    ¡°This pact of Cheburim, what does it mean?¡± The human asked.


    It meant you swore off all speech and human desires in return for power. Something reserved for the most zealous of monks.


    Most people did not realize what they needed to give up.


    ¡°It means you take a holy pilgrimage to the city of Cheburim, you should speak with a temple should you need more details. Porton may have one. We can talk on the way to the city.¡±


    The human seemed drawn to the idea, was he desperate for power?


    This human was alone, likely rich or possessed significant backing, he was lost and did not know the area, and he was desperate for power.


    A deposed noble?


    I wanted to study his armor, to collect samples and determine what the orange glossy material was.


    To find out where he had come from. In my five hundred years of life I had never seen anything like this.


    ¡°These monks, are they¡­ Trained to deal with curses or evil spirits?¡± The human asked and I almost laughed at him. Humans were well known to be superstitious, blaming everything from crop failures to curdled cream on evil ghosts and whatnot.


    ¡°Monks are well known for this ability.¡± I lied, ¡°Can you tell me what curse ails you?¡±


    ¡°Something¡­¡± The human searched for the words, ¡°Something tied me down and carved a circle with symbols that looked like¡­¡± He began tracing the symbols into the ground and my heart almost skipped a beat.


    I did not recognize the symbols themselves, but the angular patterns and the circle they surrounded were uncannily similar to symbols I did know of. Things that only the highest rank inquisitors were privy to.


    ¡°Hmm.¡± I feigned disinterest. ¡°That does seem to be a form of evil script, though I can¡¯t tell what they mean.¡±


    I reached to my side and drew my blade in one swift motion, before turning and handing it to the human.


    ¡°This is an enchanted elven blade.¡± I stated. While it was magical ¡®enchanted¡¯ implied magic was anything other than science. ¡°I have been told that magical weapons can harm evil spirits. Why do you not trade me this weapon for that knife you have? After I contact some of my kin we can launch a full on investigation and you can return it to me after we are sure you are safe.¡±


    It was true that humans often said magical weapons could harm spirits, though ghosts were not real and I had no idea how a bloodletting sword could possibly harm an ethereal being, the real reason I was handing this weapon to the human was much simpler.


    I could track this weapon and even if I couldn''t, elven blades were of such rarity to humans that there was no way I wouldn¡¯t be able to find him. Even through rumors alone.


    As an inquisitor it was my sworn duty to capture beings of interest and to learn from them. This human, this armor, this knowledge. None of it was something a human should have. I intended to find out why he had them. I would take him to Porton, I would convince him to spend a few days there pretending to investigate his curse, then my subordinates would arrive and we would take him into custody.


    The human held my blade in his hands, the oversized handle fitting clumsily in his smaller grasp. He marveled at the lack of weight and gave it a few swings before holding it in the air. I untied my sheath and tossed it onto the ground in front of him before holding out my own hand.


    The same way he had investigated my weapon I checked his. Though, the first thing I observed was the writing.


    I could not read it. How many years had it been since I found a language I couldn¡¯t read? It wasn¡¯t the supernatural script that few had ever seen, nor was it a new offshoot of a human language.


    The blade itself was sharper and denser than any steel I had ever seen. While the handle looked well worn and there were scratches on the paint there were no signs of rust or marks on the blade itself.


    This blade was not steel, nor was his armor covered in leather. I needed to find out what these materials were, I needed to learn how he had discovered this script, I needed to learn where his friends were.


    The human watched me and I found that I was in error. I had spent too long staring at the script on the blade of this knife. He knew I was suspicious of him now.


    I tried for a simple question to appear curious. If I showed disinterest he may sense the trap.


    ¡°A strange language. Where did you say you got this blade?¡±


    ¡°A friend gave it to me actually. Dunno where he got it.¡± The human said, and I knew it to be the truth even if not the full thing.


    ¡°Interesting, I may like to ask your friend for one if I get the chance. But we have more important things to get to if we want to deal with the¡­¡± I searched for the word, of one of humanity¡¯s worst evil spirits. ¡°Demon. The demon chasing you.¡±


    ¡°How did you know-¡± The human began to ask, but I payed it little mind.


    Demons were their most evil spirit that the superstitious blamed on everything. If this human thought whatever was haunting him was seriously bad there was little chance he attributed it to anything but a demon.


    We continued our path to Porton, hearing the gravel crunch beneath our boots, until my silent companion turned and faced the shrubs to our right.


    I held up my arm to halt the human, whatever had attracted its attention could not be good. I drew my new knife and wondered if I should take my sword back.


    Probably not, I could overpower a bear with my hands in short bursts. The monk could not be killed by mundane tools. We both turned to face the brush and that was when I began to regret my decision.


    I saw a face, not one belonging to human or mine own kin, but to my half breed cousins.


    A half elf faced me, only a loincloth separated him from a naked animal. He lacked clothing or steel tools, but what he did have was something that managed to threaten me.


    An elven longbow, it was not elven due to its materials but rather due to its sheer size and the strength required to draw it. A human would not be able to budge that string and the bow itself was almost taller than the person wielding it.


    An arrow streaked by, cracking the air like a thunderbolt. One moment the monk next to me was standing and the next they were sprawled out on the ground eight feet away. The arrow stuck out of their forehead, it had shattered the thing¡¯s skull and caved the bone in before exiting the back of its head.


    I held my tiny human knife in front of me, this was a bad matchup for me and we both knew it.


    Even so¡­


    ¡°Run to town human, I will hold this fiend off.¡±


    After the human finished panicking he began his pitiful retreat.


    I watched the mule across from me knock an arrow, but he did not draw. He did not draw because if he did I would need to respond in kind. He might have the advantage. In a fight I would bet money that he would win.


    But that was not how elves fought, though I loathed to call him that. You did not live for a hundred years taking odds like this. I still had a significant chance of surviving and causing him injury. Even if I died there would be vengeance, my clan would not let this affront stand.


    Both of us calculated the risk, and we both concluded the risk did not match the reward and so neither of us moved nor showed weakness.


    Slowly the fallen monk healed the hole in its head, and by the time it once again stood wordlessly the half elf had left. And after that I continued on, the human would outpace me in an eight mile run to town, but I would find him sooner rather than later.


    After all, he still had my sword.

 17 - Nice Herbs

    I gasped for air as I shuffled forwards.


    My desperate sprint had long since turned into an exhausted jog. A shuffle that barely outpaced walking speed performed with the last of my dying stamina.


    I had been walking with that elf, then out of nowhere arrows started coming from everywhere and people died. Well, a person died.


    A thing died.


    Now I eyed the trees with uncertainty, the same way I feared vents and dark places. There could be something beyond the green canopies, unseen watchers with the intent to harm me. I turned to observe the other side of the road, and caught sight of something further down the path.


    It looks like stone.


    A mass of grey covered the distance, peeking out between the trees as I got closer. I pushed my exhausted body to run just a little further and closed the distance to the man made object. Eventually the woods were left behind me and I almost sank to my knees.


    What may have been half a mile away was a wall. I could see tree stumps and mounds of dirt where the people here had cleared the forest around this fortification. I continued my pace, my chest felt like it was going to collapse into itself but the mere existence of a city where there might be humans renewed me. Despite my lead feet and burning lungs I moved with an eagerness to put the forest behind me.


    Armored plates did not make running easy, their weight impacted me to the point that I forgot I had boots on. Each step felt like it would drag me into the ground.


    Gradually I managed to close in on the town¡¯s gates.


    ¡°Halt.¡±


    I lumbered to a stop and leaned forwards panting with my hands on my knees.


    ¡°-I said show yourself!¡±


    I missed the first half of what he said. I turned upwards and saw the men beside the gate lowering their spears at me. The words finally registered so I went to peel off my headgear and face them.


    Seeing my face they relaxed somewhat, though they maintained a grip on their weapons.


    ¡°You look like you are going to keel over, what is the rush friend?¡±


    I gasped in air, ¡°We got jumped, we got hit with arrows from the trees and- and-¡±


    Sweat poured from my face as I tried to inhale the world. One of the guards in front of me grabbed a bag from his side and held it out to me. I took the waterskin and downed its contents so quickly I almost choked.


    ¡°Shit, go get the sergeant. We might have to tell the captain.¡± One of the guards ran back into the city. ¡°How many people were you with? Did you see how many attackers?¡±


    ¡°There was an elf and- one of the monks with them. I ran as soon as the arrows started hitting.¡± I answered. ¡°Do we send people back for them, or do we- what do we do?¡±


    The guard took his waterskin back and appraised me, ¡°If this was about elves I¡¯m not sure we can do much sir. Make sure you tell our captain this here was elf business, otherwise they might try you for cowardice if they think you fled your caravan.¡±


    Fled my caravan?


    I glanced down, the fact that this was armor was not subtle. I supposed that I did look like some sort of guard. With my mind clearer now that I had a moment to hydrate and rest I took a much more detailed survey of the people around me.


    The things I had mistaken for spears had broad axeheads. The guards wore thick coats, metallic helmets and bore halberds. The walls were easily ten feet high and made from a grey brick. I could now hear people walking above me, though whether they had always been there and I had missed them in my desperate run or if they had suddenly come out after my story of the ambush I did not know.


    They also wore brightly colored garments over their coats, tabards painted a bright neon green. I supposed that it helped them stand out of a crowd.


    ¡°Guard, who is that?¡± A man walked up in the same uniform as the others.


    ¡°Uh, didn¡¯t get his name sergeant. He says there¡¯r elves in the woods and they got his friends.¡±


    ¡°Damn.¡± The sergeant was a few inches shorter than his guard, but rather than carry a halberd he had a sword at his waist. ¡°Any clue why they¡¯re there? You don¡¯t suppose they want something from us do they?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea sir.¡± I answered truthfully. ¡°You met one before?¡±


    He shook his head, ¡°I¡¯ve been on these gates for ten years, I think there might have been three? They always walk up demanding to see the lord and luckily never paid us much mind.¡±


    Elves are not common in this place. Humans do not like elves.


    That was my main takeaway, if the average person was lucky to ever see an elf then what were the chances of me meeting two on my first day here?


    Was it a coincidence or was there something I wasn¡¯t seeing?


    Was there some reason behind my meeting them, one that I did not know yet?


    When I got down to it what were the odds of being abducted by aliens? What were the odds of being the only survivor? What were the odds of just happening to find a habitable planet and that planet having humans on it?


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    Was all of this just chance?


    I shook my head to clear the thoughts.


    ¡°Did you have business here sir?¡± The sergeant asked me.


    ¡°I suppose I am still contracted to visit an herbalist here,¡± I answered. ¡°My lord wanted information on plants or something.¡±


    One of the guards thumbed his nose, ¡°What¡¯s he wanna know plants for?¡±


    I shrugged, ¡°I dunno. He just told me to travel down here and buy a book on them. Do you know anyone who might be a good pick?¡±


    ¡°Maybe a medicineman? If you want a book you might need a scholar and those are high neck sorts. You might need to head into the castle to ask around for a high neck and they ain¡¯t the type to let random folk in. Armor or no.¡± The sergeant shrugged. ¡°The guard got one of the scholarly types on reserve but only when we get hurt on the job.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I bowed my head, ¡°Thank you. If I may enter then I will begin my search.¡±


    The sergeant held up a hand. ¡°One moment, first you must tell me your name and where you came from for the logs.¡±


    I saw that at this point the other guards had grown disinterested and wandered back to their posts on either side of the gate. It might be possible for me to rush the sergeant and disappear into the crowd.


    I glanced at my bright orange armor and banished the thought, that was the dumbest notion I had ever had.


    ¡°My name is John, I was born in Washington, America.¡± I stated. ¡°I traveled quite far to get here.¡±


    One of the guards turned his attention to me, ¡°I ain¡¯t never heard of that place.¡±


    For a moment I wondered if the truth was a mistake, then the sergeant shrugged. ¡°No shit, look at this man¡¯s skin. He¡¯s almost shining white and covered in fruit colored armor. Obviously he¡¯s not from around here.¡±


    The sergeant pulled a booklet out of his pocket and began writing, ¡°Is that Washing-ton with one ¡®n¡¯?¡±


    ¡°One ¡®n¡¯ sir.¡± I answered and the man waved me in.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you, if someone wants more testimonies from you then some guards might direct you back here. But for now you¡¯re free to go.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The man knuckled his helmet and saw me off.


    I walked away and finally managed to take in the crowd of people before me. Though, by the same measure everyone nearby turned to eye me as the newcomer. A mother and child carrying laundry, a man behind a stall covered in fish, a group of men unloading a cart-


    Too many people were staring at me at once, I placed my helmet back on to make sure it didn¡¯t get stolen and gripped the elven sword¡¯s handle.


    This was a large crowd with dozens of people on this street alone. But I grew up in large cities where there might be hundreds walking beside you. For a moment I wanted to throw myself onto the ground and sob. For whatever reason these people were medieval peasants, a point that broke my hopes for some kind of help against alien invaders.


    It raised yet more questions, how did two different planets have humans on them when neither had access to space travel? Not only was it seemingly insane but it threw all of my plans out the window.


    Goodbye alien resistance, hello spears.


    I shook my head, that goal did not seem like something worth chasing now. For now I would need to put that energy into my other main goals. I needed to find writing on flora and fauna, then I needed to find a way to protect myself from the demons.


    I walked further into the crowd, for now I should just explore town. Maybe ask around for some kind of temple? The elf had said something about monks and temples right?


    I put that on my mental list. While visiting a temple was an obvious step I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if they would let me go after finding out I was cursed? The elf seemed nice enough but religious fanatics were known for zealotry. Would I be summed up as a witch or a demon¡¯s cohort and burned at the stake?


    The easiest decision was simple, I was going to put it off. The demons were terrifying but I couldn¡¯t get the thought of that blue thing¡¯s mouthless face out of my mind.


    Besides, if the ship deemed that I failed at my basic tasks I might not be sent on the away teams anymore. My first priority should be mission accomplishment. First I should perform what my own alien overlords expected from me.


    With that in mind I set forward, I needed to find someone familiar with nature. Some sort of woodsman or ranger. The guard seemed to think that finding someone who would write this stuff down was difficult, so maybe I should try to bluff my way into the big stone castle in the distance for some kind of so-called scholar? Churches write stuff down right? Maybe the temple is the right way to go?


    My thoughts ran wild as I tried to logic out which direction needed to go. Someone bumped into me and I reflexively grabbed their wrist before they could go for one of my pouches.


    I held a dirty child who couldn¡¯t have been more than ten, they flinched wordlessly and tried to pry my hand off of them with no such luck, my hand was armored and I felt no pain from their teeth. While I was still underweight I had still gained back some strength from my weeks of nutrient paste and labor. Compared to this small frail kid I was a giant, even if thin my well nurtured upbringing meant that I was broad shouldered and taller than most of the people here.


    I checked my pouch as the child thrashed and found it still intact before letting them go. It had been easy to see them coming because no one else came within reach of me, the giant armored man with a sword, choosing instead to keep distance and watch on with curious eyes.


    Nothing had been stolen, I don¡¯t think they knew how zippers work and the bags were rated for ¡®heavy industrial duty without damage¡¯ so I doubted a primitive knife could go through them. I watched them vanish into the crowd and realized that I was surrounded by people. Dozens upon dozens of people who I did not know and who may have the same idea.


    I did have valuables, silver plates and alien tech. These things may be enough to turn a crowd against me if they came to light.


    I gripped my blade hard enough my knuckles must have gone white and turned to survey my environment. I crossed the street and ducked into an alleyway. Stuck in an environment with little room to maneuver I fully unsheathed the elven blade and watched it shimmer lightly even in the shadow between two buildings.


    Stepping forwards I felt something squelch under my boot and shuttered slightly.


    Did these people have sewers or¡­


    I continued on without thinking that hard about the subject, I continued forwards following a small maze built between houses. Seeing the filth and decay built in the crevices between buildings finally made me thankful that my helmet blocked smells.


    The trees had been nice but I checked beneath my boot and wondered if it had rained recently enough for there to be this much mud.


    I turned a corner and saw a person huddled in the fetal position, their skin covered in enough filth to make determining their true skin color difficult. I looked down upon my own soiled boots and leggings and determined they must have had a similar journey, albeit barefoot. But how their hair managed to end up so greasy and covered in dirt was an open question.


    Ironically I was far more worried about this seemingly naked homeless person than I was about a bear or even armed and clothed people. I had grown up in a bustling metropolis where one of the biggest threats were drug addicts.


    I almost turned to leave, before another thought came.


    I know very little about this place. Here is an isolated person who is unlikely to share information with others.


    Instead I turned to the homeless person, ¡°Excuse me, do you have a moment?¡±


    There was no response, I nudged them with my boot and the person fell over. Dead fishlike eyes stared up at the sky from a face hidden behind a pale beard.


    I backed away from the corpse and heard footsteps behind me, I turned fearing the worst.


    Town guards catching me standing above a desiccated corpse, weapon in hand. This one looked badly mangled and filthy, clearly no death from old age or overdose.


    Instead I locked eyes with a sweaty man baring no signs of a shirt, he had a thick cudgel.


    Then I saw a man behind him, and a man behind that man.


    I had a sword, much longer and pointier than what he was holding. I may be at an advantage but I had no idea how many people were coming at me. There were three in sight but there may be more around the corner.


    If all of them rushed me it couldn¡¯t be that hard to disarm me, and then after that rip my helmet off and brain me. The man licked his chapped lips, and glanced between my sword and face.


    ¡°Drop the sword and- toss the sword to me and then give me your-¡±


    I turned and ran with all of my might.


    ¡°You bastard-¡± I heard a curse and felt a thrown stone collide with my helmet. Fighting was a bad idea, how many rocks to the face could I take?


    I sprinted past the corpse and rounded the corner.


    The corpse moved and-


    The shirtless man in front fell, landing roughly in the muck with a string of curses as he almost tripped the man behind him. I realized he must have stumbled over the dead body and given me an extra moment to make distance. I turned a corner and then sprinted down the street until my stamina gave out.


    A door to my right was open, I ducked through and then crouched onto the other side. I heard the footsteps pass me and panted quietly until they were gone.


    It was only after minutes passed that I decided to turn to the room I found myself in. Leaves hung to dry from the roof and a small fire burned beneath a pot. Simple furniture dotted the room, everything was made from wood and there was little cloth. There were no drapes, no cushions, no rugs.


    I locked eyes with an elderly woman who quietly sat in the corner.


    ¡°You tracked mud into the house.¡±


    I sighed, ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± I observed the plants hanging from the ceiling, ¡°Nice herbs? What¡¯s that you got boiling over there?¡±


    ¡°Soup.¡±


    Ah, I wondered if she knew anything about the local wildlife.

 18 - A Prayer

    I stood adjacent to the doorway, breathing hard to suck oxygen in through the filters. Waiting for unknown men to burst through with their clubs and stones.


    My suit was not made for mobility, the amount of running was exhausting me beyond what adrenaline could account for. The boots and metal plates were digging into my body, making it difficult to stand and difficult to breathe.


    Even so, I had endured worse than being out of breath and sore legs. I faced the old woman who¡¯s home I had invaded, searched for some kind of reasonable explanation and came up short.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t tell those guys I¡¯m in here.¡± I settled on, making sure to grip the elven blade extremely obviously. A silent threat that wouldn¡¯t harm a person¡¯s pride the way a stated threat would.


    The woman snorted, ¡°I¡¯m not friends with them. If you want to hide then shut the door behind you and take a seat away from the windows.¡±


    It took me a moment to register the words between panting breaths, but I did step away from the door while eyeing the woman.


    She was old with grey hair and a simple brown robe covering her wrinkled body.


    But she was not dead, that I made sure of. Her eyes held life and she did not have her chest carved open. The room lacked obvious shadows, though I was still wary of the closed cabinets this room appeared remarkably safe and well lit given its placement in a dirty alleyway.


    Why was her home located in the middle of an alley, sandwiched between two buildings? Did she have a front door leading to the streets or did the only entrance come from a maze of alleyways?


    Scant light made its way through the glassless windows. A small fire and a few candles kept the room easy to see in.


    I slowly and quietly closed the door. The woman clamped a set of wooden shutters shut.


    ¡°So, nice place you have here.¡± I offered.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shithole.¡± She corrected.


    I swallowed, looking around. The room was somewhat bare with only a few wooden shelves and chairs. She held little in the way of metal and almost nothing made from any type of fabric. I could see what must have been a bed with a few animal skins draped on top. The floorboards were old and I could see where they gave way in places to a drop that could break your ankle.


    There were plants and what must have been herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I struggled to find words, then gave up. ¡°Do you happen to have any books on the local wildlife?¡±


    The woman looked me up and down. ¡°Maybe I do. Who sent you?¡±


    I wondered what the best answer to that would be, well you see I was abducted by space aliens and¡­


    ¡°No one sent me here specifically, but I was hired to find a book on local beasts and plants.¡±


    ¡°So you just happened to walk through the alleys and make your way into my house?¡± The old lady asked.


    I answered simply, ¡°Yes.¡±


    The woman sighed, ¡°I worked as a healer in my youth, I do have a catalogue around here somewhere of the medicines I worked with.¡±


    My gut instinct was to purchase it, but I reigned my desires in. If I showed the amount of silver I had and this turned out to be a hoax it could potentially turn violent. The old woman might not be a match for me, but she could tell others of the riches I possessed. The people here undoubtedly knew the city better and I doubted the guards would do much to save me.


    ¡°May I see it?¡± I settled on, ¡°I can offer you money if it¡¯s detailed enough.¡±


    The woman sighed, ¡°I will have to find it, why don¡¯t you sit down and have a meal. I can tell you are barely standing, some food will do you well.¡±


    ¡°I uh-¡± I wondered what a person living in such squalor could be cooking, rat? Pigeon?


    My stomach growled and I realized I didn¡¯t really care, if it was boiling it couldn¡¯t be that disease ridden. I had a cube of meat in one of my pouches, but that was barely even food. It felt like eating compacted sawdust.


    ¡°The bowls are on the mantle above the fire. Grab some of the bread out of the cabinet on the right.¡± She left the room and I knelt next to the fire with a wooden bowl in hand.


    I could see some kind of grain in the thick brown liquid as I ladled it out, along with chunks of what may have been fish. I grabbed a heel of bread and sat back in a chair, feeling the furnature groan dangerously beneath my weight.


    I noticed after sitting that I had no spoon, nor anything else that would count as one. I ripped my helmet off and poured the hot liquid into my mouth, burning myself on the thick stew. It was bland, spiceless; tasting of grain, salt and fish.


    It was one of the best things I had ever tasted, it had a texture. I tried to bite the bread and felt it resist my teeth as if I was biting into a stone, but I found myself barely waiting for the liquid to soften it before trying my teeth again.


    The large portion I had taken was downed in scant moments, the second portion went down just as fast and it left my shrunken stomach bloated. I leaned back feeling ill as I struggled to keep the food from coming back up.


    Minutes passed in front of the fire, I sat pretending like I couldn¡¯t smell the filth outside of the door. Did this city not have sewers? Or did they not reach this place? Ironically I was not as bothered by this smell as I was by the scent of my ship¡¯s cleaners at this point.


    Eventually I found myself wondering where the old woman went. My mind immediately went to the worst as I had learned to do.


    ¡°Hello? Lady, are you coming back?¡± I called down the hallway and received no response.


    I cursed and rose to my feet, eyeing the windows and door. In a confined space, I could back against the wall and likely take on multiple opponents with my armor and weapon advantage.


    My legs felt like jelly, I did not think I could run much longer. I threw my helmet back on and drew my sword. How long had I been sitting? How long did I have before men threw the doors open and advanced on me with their spears and clubs?


    I turned to survey the house, maybe I could hide? Or perhaps the old woman was near deaf and just in the next room? I rounded a corner and saw nothing, walking down a small unlit hallway I came to what must have been a storage area with a dirt floor and a dirty rug.


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    This house had two rooms, the main one and a large storage closet filled with bags of grain, dried food and chopped wood. There was only one way out, if a surge of people came then I would be trapped.


    There was no old woman, there were no windows? So how did the woman leave the room and disappear? I eyed the rug I was standing on.


    Why would a storage room with a dirt floor have a rug? I wasn¡¯t exactly an expert, but wouldn¡¯t you first use fabric in the living area? She didn¡¯t have cloth blankets or drapes or even a rug in the main room. Wouldn¡¯t that be where you wanted these things? How long did she spend in here daily?


    I tossed a bag of grain away, then kicked the rug up to find the edge of a small wooden hatch.


    Most of the hatch was buried beneath more bags of grain and half of a shelf, I lifted one such bag and found a small hole in the side leaking sand.


    These bags of goods weren¡¯t filled with anything useful. They were here to hide something, but what?


    I shoved the bags out of the way and ripped the hatch open, seeing the steps leading into darkness I hesitated for a moment.


    My hand went to a small control section on my armor near my armpit, I grasped at a few buttons until my headlamp came on and made my way down the stairs.


    The old woman had gone this way. I was completely sure she hadn¡¯t left through the front door, I would have noticed, the wooden boards squeaked too loudly as people walked upon them.


    That meant this underground room had to lead somewhere. Surely this was some sort of escape, what reason would an old woman have need for an escape tunnel I did not know. Was she a smuggler? Was this some kind of safehouse? It didn¡¯t make sense, this wasn¡¯t a crawlspace there was enough room for me to stand back straight and march down the halls.


    I descended the stairs with a weapon in hand, sure that this would be my salvation. The uneven cave slowly descended into the earth and eventually the smell of filth and waste was replaced with that of cold earth. My light reached dozens of feet away, but I still felt myself pointing my blade ahead of me towards any unseen horrors.


    I stepped slowly watching for wires or disguised pits, but the oddly flat ground made it easy to tell that nothing was hidden.


    How long is this tunnel? Who built it? Surely not an old woman. I walked for hundreds of meters below the ground in a hole large enough that there were inches between my head and the ceiling.


    It gave me the creeps, I began to wonder if maybe there were more people down here. Then it began to widen from a roomy hallway into a wide room. I began wondering if I was seeing this correctly.


    Rows of candles burned on the dirt floor, a stone slab carried a bowl next to piles of jewelry. I slowly entered the room wondering what I could have possibly wandered into. There were side tunnels leading away from this¡­ shrine?


    I walked forwards feeling a cold sweat make its way down my back. As I neared the stone slab I identified the items on it. The bowl was filled with an equal mixture of small coins and small rusted nails, beside it was a cross and my mind immediately understood the religious symbol. But how did two worlds both have¡­


    The wooden cross was crudely made, two thick sticks sanded down to round off the edges. The bottom had been filed to a point making it almost seem like a weapon rather than an object of worship. Beside it were copies in different materials.


    I stood in shock, thousands of questions going through my mind. How? Why? Who had hidden this? Why was it hidden? How did¡­


    Next to the wooden cross was something more opulent. It was not something that someone would own, but a large piece of artwork that might be on display in a public area. It was made from gold and small gems, a carving of a near naked man being hung from the middle. It was large enough that it would be difficult to carry, heavy enough that you could not just hang it off of drywall.


    On the other side of that was a pile of rings, coins and necklaces. Some were dull grey, others looked like shined brass. There were gems mixed with shards of stained glass and the occasional pretty stone. A small tray covered in ash sat alone on the far end of the stone slab.


    One item in particular caught my eye and I pulled it out from under a few pieces of glass. A simple cross necklace made from a tarnished grey material, its chain must have been forged from rusted cast iron. The piece of jewelry fit within the palm of my hand and I stared at it for a moment. It was small enough that I could pocket it easily.


    ¡°That piece belonged to my late son.¡±


    I almost leapt out of my skin hearing the old woman¡¯s voice, she stood in the entrance to one of the side tunnels and I felt her eyes bore straight through my armor.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± I felt my voice crack. This place had beyond unsettled me. I stared at the image of an emaciated and bleeding man in the depths of this cavern on an alien world.


    I felt drawn to this place, I longed to never leave. My legs felt like they were made of lead. I struggled to move, to even turn to face the woman.


    What if she had brought people with her? What if there were people down the hallway that I hadn¡¯t seen? Why was she not surprised about the flashlight I had sticking out of my helmet? A million worries flashed through my mind but I could not move my eyes from the altar no matter how I tried.


    I felt something sharp digging into my palm and then I realized I was squeezing the tarnished necklace hard enough I felt it through the glove.


    ¡°Sit. Relax. This is not a place for violence.¡± The woman commanded and I felt my legs go out from under me.


    I felt the weight lift from my shoulders, the terrible pressure suddenly gone and I turned to look at the old woman.


    ¡°Are you from Earth?¡± I asked. ¡°Did you come here, like me?¡±


    She sighed, ¡°I don¡¯t know where that is, child, but I was born in this city.¡±


    ¡°What is this place?¡±


    ¡°From the looks of things,¡± She said in a tired voice, ¡°You know exactly where you are.¡±


    I was in a church of all things. A church to something I had never paid much mind to. William had told me a little bit about various religions and their beliefs while we were in our cells. He had told me that in bootcamp you were guaranteed church visits on Sundays and that those were the only place drill instructors couldn¡¯t follow you.


    I could practically hear his voice.


    Everyone is always religious when shit goes down man. That¡¯s just how it is. Look I¡¯ve been praying all day and I haven¡¯t done this since I officially became a private. You should pray too, even if you know you¡¯re taking a placebo it still works, idiot.


    I tried to remember the words to the sermons that he gave but I remembered little other than the biting hunger and painful exhaustion in those cells. William had been interested in the stuff and looked into various religions and their mythologies since his days as a rifleman.


    I wish he was here. He would know what to say.


    ¡°You have lost someone? And you have come far to a strange land. These things can be troubling.¡± The old woman said. ¡°Our doors are open to anyone who respects our halls.¡±


    I tried to wipe my tears away, but the helmet interrupted that process.


    She was down here, but the hidden door leading here had a shelf and sandbags stacked on top.


    ¡°Why are you hidden down here?¡± I asked. ¡°How did you get through the door without moving those crates? Are there more tunnels?¡±


    ¡°The elves do not take kindly to forces beyond their control child.¡± The old woman shook her head. ¡°Few do so, but most men know better than to challenge God or his servants. We dug these tunnels long before the empire moved in, and it kept a few of us safe when the worst happened.¡±


    ¡°God.¡± My voice shook and I said the word like it was a foreign thing. ¡°Why did this all happen if he¡¯s real? Why didn¡¯t he stop it?¡±


    ¡°God does not ¡®let¡¯ anything happen.¡± She corrected me. ¡°Things happen and sometimes God acts. He gave us the ability to make our own decisions, even if our decisions are incorrect.¡±


    ¡°Then what do I do?¡± I asked myself as much as her. This world was primitive, they could not help me against the empire that was coming after Earth. I had demons and ghouls haunting me. My friends all died and I was alone.


    ¡°Tell me of your problems.¡± She answered. ¡°My flock has left for safer lands, but I can do at least this much for a lost child.¡±


    I sobbed. For a moment I thought about lying. Of telling this strange woman on a strange world nothing, I knew that I should not divulge my secrets so easily.


    But in the end, did it really matter? What would the humans here do? Fight me with their spears? I could call Blue Stripes for an emergency extraction if I was willing to give up on my goals here. The people here learning of what I knew could cause panic but I doubted they had the infrastructure to catch a man with access to a shuttle.


    So I told her about the cruel things that had abducted me. I spoke about the long days and the cold alien cells that I had been trapped in. I recited every name that I had sworn to carry with me in that ship and I told her about the demons that lurked in the shadows. I cried about how no one had believed me when the corpse had spoken and how I was so tired I could barely stand.


    And the entire time she listened without a hint of disbelief, silently nodding.


    ¡°You were drawn here.¡± She concluded. ¡°Your ship was carried here without rest or resupplies or repairs and then you were drawn and you too ran until you could run no more. I can offer you little at a time like this but for now I wish you would keep my son¡¯s necklace.¡±


    ¡°I-¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. There was no way I could keep something that used to belong to her lost child. I tried to hand it back but she held up her hand.


    ¡°Thirty years ago on this day my son was taken from me for refusing to give up the faith after our city was claimed by the Empire.¡± She explained. ¡°It is no coincidence that a man was chased into my home on this day, nor is it coincidence that this man gazed upon the gold and jewels and took only that which my son had once treasured.¡±


    ¡°I should not be the one.¡± I stated. ¡°William should have been chosen. He at least had actually read the bible.¡±


    ¡°This William is not here, and I do not sense faith from you but that is of little consequence. You are not a priest, nor are you a prophet. You are not meant to be a man of faith, but something else.¡±


    I denied it. ¡°Prophesies are not real.¡±


    ¡°Was it the fact that you believed you should be here that got you chased by hoodlums? You searched for a book detailing plants and animals, something no farmer would need to write to remember, and yet instead of searching for a scholar you just so happened to find me. You carry an elven blade and yet you have been neither enslaved nor tortured for touching it.¡±


    Enslaved?


    The woman continued. ¡°I have seen blades like that before. That elf will not be far behind you. Do not believe that they have anything good planned for you, they do not see those lesser than them as deserving of life. Go now, follow the path to your left and show those star-creatures the enchanted blades that our enemies hold. Learn to save your world.¡±


    ¡°Will you come with me?¡± I asked. ¡°A priestess? The demons wouldn¡¯t come near you. You could teach me how to resist them. To fight them.¡±


    Slowly the old woman shook her head. ¡°My place is here. If God is willing I will meet the elf I met Thirty years ago. If God smiles upon me I will have my vengeance. Go now John. Your time is not yet over.¡±


    Without another word I turned and left.


    The old woman muttered a single prayer.

 19 - Nausea

    I walked through the halls, the ringing of elven steel piercing loudly into my mind.


    It was not a physical noise that others could hear, I alone was bonded to that blade. Though at this point I had much on my mind.


    How exactly had this complex network of tunnels been dug out from beneath this city without anyone noticing? The answer was obvious, clearly a number of people had noticed and had facilitated in hiding this structure from the public eye. The lord may need to be questioned. It must be someone with power.


    If my mental map was accurate then there were over seven miles of tunnels beneath this city.


    I readjusted my hat, the long brim was occasionally rubbing against stone jutting from the rough walls and coming loose. I needed to keep my ears tucked tight to my head or risk losing them in an upcoming fight. I could dodge an attack from a human easily, but my ears were long and floppy enough to not stay tied to my head.


    Some elves clipped their ears, but I always felt that was reminiscent of an attack dog.


    ¡°Damn.¡± I muttered, my feet were sore from the extended walking and it seemed like my task was still far from complete.


    In front of me was a door. It may have been the only door I had seen in this dungeon. Everything else had been dirt caverns with oddly smooth floors. Overlapping hallways that sometimes went nowhere and other times lead to back alleyways.


    I held up a fist to signal my present company that they were to remain in place and I approached the door. I had decades of experience in how to breach an entryway, everything from silent breaks to battering rams to explosives.


    Many were surprised by the first step. It had always been fairly obvious to me, I tried the doorknob and felt the door spring open then I slowly pulled it open while peeking inside.


    The room appeared clear with no obvious threats. There was an altar, candles, and a woman kneeling in prayer. This room confirmed that this complex was made for a cult to the ancient one. The fools did not know that their own god was dead.


    I strode in, my footsteps silent, my breathing hushed beyond what a human could hear. Slowly I drew the blade of an unknown metal that I had taken from that strange human and closed distance.


    The woman was muttering unintelligibly. I could distinctly hear her voice but the words made no sense, it seemed to be gibberish.


    Like a tiger I stalked the elderly human who may have been a fourth of my age, I reared and then I pounced. The blade cleaved through her back and into her heart with a single motion and I felt no resistance. Her blood splattered outwards as stray droplets coated the room before the stream of blood leaked onto the floor. I shifted her body to keep it from trickling onto me.


    The scent of iron mixed with the scent of damp earth. The woman went limp, the blade was much sharper than I thought and I began to wonder how this could end up in the hands of a human.


    My musings were cut short, the woman breathed her last breath as I slowly lowered her down to avoid unnecessary noise, but even so her head turned and I met her gaze. She had stopped breathing, seconds ago her heart had lost function and yet her eyes appeared alive.


    Her lips moved into a smile and she spoke with air that I knew was not in her lungs.


    ¡°I knew it.¡±


    Her corpse dropped like a puppet no longer being held up by its puppeteer and I continued laying her flat onto the ground. There may be more cultists in here, human or not the deranged were not something to play games with. I moved quietly through the halls, the exits should all have guards on them.


    I listened, but heard nothing other than the breaths of the men I had brought down here.


    The air was thick with blood and it made it difficult to smell.


    The dim light was more than enough for my eyes and I came upon a passage, one that did not intersect with the maze that had taken me here. Some sort of escape tunnel?


    I called to the guards I had brought. ¡°Get in here!¡±


    Their clumsy footsteps carried them forwards, their armored boots loudly trodding through the dirt. I watched as each one¡¯s eyes lit up in surprise. One by one they would see the candles and stare towards the source of light, then they would look about the room before coming upon the dead old woman.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It was predictable, in this place of darkness the first thing they would always look at was the lights. If you put a candle on one side of a room and hid on the other you could kill a human before they realized that you were there with complete certainty.


    These men were supposedly well trained, their shock only lasting a heartbeat as one by one they took in their surroundings and got to work. They began lowering their halberds and fanning out to watch the empty doorways.


    The fact that every man took the exact same course of action, of course, made it all the more obvious when one of the men reacted differently. I watched as the armored human came through the door and instantly sighted on the dead woman. His eyes lingered upon her crumpled form and then with effort he broke away to stand next to his ally, pointing his weapon down a dark hallway.


    His eyes never glanced at the candles, nor did it at any point fall upon the gold and jewels on one side of the room. I memorized his face and later I would question him.


    With the room secure I began a more detailed search. Diverting most of my focus into the makeshift shrine.


    I saw the crosses, the jewels and the money and the old woman¡¯s lifeblood coating everything. It was enough money to buy a dozen farms or hire an entire company of mercenaries. Absentmindedly I reached into the bowl and grasped a handful of silver coins and felt something bite into my hand.


    I withdrew and grasped my appendage. Blood trickled from a slight cut.


    A jagged rusted nail dug into my palm and I ripped it out, the cultist¡¯s blood had camouflaged the jagged metal in with the gold and silver.


    I was definitely going to have to be checked for diseases.


    I turned to the old woman, a mocking grin still plastered on her dead face. She looked as though she had won, though the fact that she laid dead on the ground was evidence of the fact that she had not.


    Lowering myself, I grasped at her sides to check for anything concealed. She had no pockets, but even so I turned her over to see if she carried anything.


    I found only a wooden cross, carved into a sharp point on the bottom, clenched in her dying grasp. For a moment I searched my memory, rituals for ancient magics had so much variance that it made it difficult to tell what was a spell and what wasn¡¯t. This scene would have to be catalogued and any ill effects nearby would have to be investigated. It was a serious procedure, and I would need to call in more inquisitors.


    My blue mouthless companion surveyed the room, their eyes glazed and sliding over everything as if she was blind.


    ¡°Dear god.¡±


    My head snapped to the source of the voice, the same man from earlier whom I had marked for questioning. He clearly was one of these cultists. My gaze turned to each of the soldiers in turn, looking for any sign of understanding, anything that meant they knew what this was a shrine too.


    The most obvious thing was that each of these men were staring at something, at first I thought they were looking at me but then I too turned.


    Upon the altar was a golden piece of artwork, a cross that did not belong in this dark cave. It was elegant and was large enough that few walls could have borne the weight of the rare metals. Blood splattered across it, the same cultist¡¯s blood that had drenched much of the alter.


    Was this what they were staring at? The bleeding figure nailed to this gilded cross?


    I heard one of the humans fall, he knelt clutching at his head. Sweat poured from his brow as his breaths turned to ragged panting. His kneeling turned to a makeshift grovel as he lost the ability to even sit up correctly.


    One by one the humans fell as some unseen force overtook them.


    I was blind to whatever was causing this, I drew my knife, then thought better and seized a halberd from the ground. I hadn¡¯t seen something like this since-


    A flash of light tore through the room, brighter than the sun. Enough that it tore at my vision despite closing my eyes and turning in the opposite direction. It was like someone set my retinas on fire. I covered my face, I threw myself upon the ground and tried to bury my face in the dirt.


    You know not what you have done.


    The thought came unbidden, like something else was thinking for me.


    Should you continue, certain doom awaits.


    Something¡¯s mind wormed its way into my head. I could feel it pressing on my consciousness like a weight.


    This is bad. I thought.


    He is waking. It thought. Should it ever cease its endless dream so too shall everything cease.


    I knew what I was talking to, one of the servants to the dead god. The dreaming ancient, that which humans worshipped and feared.


    ¡°Get out of my head!¡± I screamed. ¡°Your god lies in a pool of its own blood. It rots and we have seen it!¡±


    The planet is dead, it is cold rock. The sun is dead, it has never lived. The sky is dead and yet neither is it not real. God lies dead and yet only that which has been mortal may die.


    From my history lessons I knew we had seen it before, thousands of years ago we searched for what it was humanity knelt to. We saw the rotting monstrosity, we saw the angels crawling from its corpse like maggots. Those who laid eyes on it went mad shrieking of things with a thousand thousand eyes and a billion teeth.


    ¡°Leave me angel. We know the rules that bind you. You have no power here.¡±


    I raised my hand, I called upon the power within me and felt it crackle at my fingertips.


    I come bearing warning. The priestess¡¯s prayers were granted, elf. His pieces move, drawn to His will. Lay down your arms and submit your life, such that your people may find redemption.


    ¡°So you seek to twist your rules to allow you to take my life? Tell me, if you wish to save us so badly why don¡¯t you tell me what your god plans?¡±


    His will is unknowable, his hands move unseen. His goals are unknown and even we cannot fathom the depths of his will. I will ask once more, because I know these plans involve you. Will you not give up your life, that your kin might live?


    I struggled to my knees, then forced myself to rise and face the angel. I covered my vision with an arm and in my other I hurled lightning. Asking me to submit my life? The dead god¡¯s servants could not kill, but they were free to take anything that you offered including your life and more.


    The bolt of lightning cracked the air like an explosive. I never saw if it landed.


    As if it had never happened, the light ceased.


    I blinked the spots out of my eyes, searching for whatever had spoken to me. The room was empty, the altar was untouched, the candles continued to flicker casting their moving shadows across the room.


    I turned to my companion, its blue skin already fading. Their eyes had been burned out of their sockets. The body lay inanimate and something within their torso wriggled and then grew still.


    The ringing of elven steel grew distant, and I turned towards a tunnel knowing instinctively that this is where that human had gone. I turned to the halls and I knew my decision had already been made.


    The human had my blade, I could track him to the ends of the earth. There was no rush because I would get it and him back eventually.


    But the presence of this cult? It would have to be dealt with before it had the chance to spread.


    My hand went to my stomach as nausea almost overcame me.


    That old woman¡¯s blood had to have been disease ridden.