Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (4 page)

* * * *

Jillian
considered
what the man had told her–that she would come to no harm–she
pondered as to his reason for her capture and why he had led her
straight to his people. Deciding that she would have to try and
keep her wits about her until she had it worked out, she formed a
few conclusions. The most logical, to her, being that they had
taken her as hostage, possibly as some kind of bartering
tool–obviously not being privy to the information that her own kind
would most definitely not want her back, thinking as they did that
she had left them abandoned on this planet, some of them too old
now to ever see home again.

Jillian
adjusted
herself, shuffling back onto the fur, weariness nearly taking her
completely. The moons of the planet hovered in the distance of the
black sky. She could see three of the five, ethereal and beautiful.
They made her feel sad. Sad for the life she had once had, now
gone, possibly for good if Mikey couldn’t find a way to clear her
name. It was ludicrous that she had been framed as a supremacist
rebel, of all things. The supremacists were an elitist
group–believing that the poor should be kept poor, and not entitled
to the benefits of space travel to new worlds–thinking pure new
societies and colonies should be kept away from the inferiority of
the less fortunate.

As if
Jillian could
ever think such ridiculous beliefs. She herself had come from
extremely humble backgrounds and she had had to work hard her
entire life to get the respectable status she used to have.
Suffering from prejudice throughout her childhood, she would never
subject any others to such treatment. All humans were equal in her
eyes.

She sat up–
a stab of
horror ridding her of the sleepiness she had been overcome with
moments ago. She had no prejudice when it came to humans–and she
prided herself on this, but she had been judging these aliens from
the moment she arrived on the planet. Immediately, she felt ashamed
and guilty, admonishing herself for making assumptions based on
rumor and hearsay from others. She’d just accepted being told that
they were savages, though the experience she’d had so far had
demonstrated the opposite of that.

Not wishing
to be naïve either, she knew she couldn’t drop her guard yet–she
simply didn’t know enough, but she pondered hard as to whether
she’d been too harsh on these unknown beings.

Chapter
Four

A shadow on the floor made her start. She looked up to see
her captor sta
nding before
her, holding two bowls of food. He placed one in front of her and
then slunk to the corner where he started devouring his with his
fingers, looking up after every mouthful–watching her. Out of
intrigue rather than hunger, she bowed her head to survey the
contents of the handmade pottery bowl. It appeared to be some sort
of brown mush. From the fragrance, it didn’t smell too bad, a
little sweet, even. She was in knots internally and way too tense
to eat, but didn’t want to appear rude and knew she would become
weak without sustenance.

Tentatively, she lifted the bowl onto
her lap and followed the alien’s actions by scooping a little of
the mixture onto her fingers and nibbling a small piece. It tasted
similar to baby carrots that had been mashed, with an unknown herby
aftertaste. It wasn’t disgusting by any means, but she worried as
to whether it would be safe for her to eat, thinking that if they
looked quite different externally, they might be different
internally.

Faron
eyed her as he
ate, knowing that she must be ravenous. He was interested in her
reaction to the dish, assessing how she took to it. Her tiny bites
seemed delicate to him and he struggled to take his focus from
her–this beautiful creature from another world.

After a few mouthfuls,
Jillian felt she had done enough to maintain some strength,
unsure if she would be required to fight or run at some point. She
placed the unfinished meal down and stifled a yawn, avoiding the
gaze of the man whom she had started to feel very conscious of,
like it contained a sort of…heat.

“
Eat,” he said in his native tongue after noticing how
little she had consumed. She maintained her ignorance to the
language by simply giving him a polite smile and a
shrug.

Faron
thought that
she couldn’t keep this pretence up much longer. He needed her
honesty to release her–to be sure that she wasn’t going to be a
risk to his village by attracting the more destructive of her race
here. Deep down, he believed that she wouldn’t do such a thing, but
he had a duty and had to be sure. There was a chance she hadn’t
been taught their tongue, of course, but his instinct was strong
and rarely incorrect.

He reached across and shook her bowl in front of her,
encouraging. This was the closest they’d been to each other,
face-to-face and both locked
eyes—neither able to look away as they absorbed each other up
close.

Jillian
was
transfixed by him in that moment, taking in the rippling flashes of
dark green and warm amber of his huge irises–the caramel of his
skin.

He too, remained still as he searched her face, fascinated
by the pink petal color of her cheeks,
which for some reason was darkening by the second.
Faron wanted to touch her curious, shade-changing flesh but held
back, thinking correctly that the move would startle
her.

Placing the bowl back on the floor, he
sat back. Jillian exhaled from the intensity of
the past minute. She felt like she had just experienced something
truly unique. Being careful not to get carried away, she reminded
herself that she had been taken prisoner of these cat-people, and
did not yet know what it was that they intended to do with her. To
relax and trust this early on could prove a fatal mistake she
wasn’t prepared to make. Just because she had felt a connection did
not mean that he had felt the same thing–they were from different
planets. She placed her guard back up.

He got up and
moved a
pile of the fur, positioning it just in front of the doorway. To
her disbelief, he curled on top of it and closed his eyes, clearly
with the intention of sleeping and preventing her from dashing
through the door, should she break from the chains.

This made
Jillian
more acutely aware of her own fatigue, which had dissipated for a
time in his presence. She yawned again, openly this time and bit
her lip as she pondered her safety.

With his large eyes now closed, she indulged in examining
his body.
Despite how she
felt about her capture, she could not deny the marvel she felt at
the rippling of his muscles underneath that skin. Skin that looked
as smooth as any she had ever seen, but somehow, soft too–as if it
were covered in a fine chestnut down. His frame was not bulky,
rather athletic and slender, but underneath was iron strength. He
had, after all, carried her weight through miles and miles of
forest without appearing to tire once.

He was
almost quite … attractive. She tried to shake the thought from her
head the instant it appeared, but now it was out she realized she
had thought that as soon as she had seen him. He was just so
powerful and self-assured–it gave him some kind of
magnetism.

As she looked on, her stomach gave a slight twist. It was
less of a physical feeling however and more…emotional. She had
unconsciously drifted into
daydreaming, wondering if he too, found her pleasant to
observe, wondering if the two races had similarities. She worried
that maybe her smooth skin and small eyes repulsed him–after
viewing her nose-to-nose, he had moved away to shut his eyes. Had
he been disgusted by her difference?

Was it wrong of her to be thinking
like this? She was annoyed with herself for being so easily
sidetracked, and started to organize her little knowledge to try
and form some theories, and perhaps a plan, whilst she still had
the time. She concentrated on what she had learnt about the aliens,
hoping to remember something that may give her a bit of insight to
her current plight.

This race obviously had a modicum of
civilization, she thought, owing to the fact
they at least ate food from bowls and provided warmth and shelter
to their prisoners. She felt ignorant at the little she knew about
the natives on the planet she now had to call home–seeing as going
back to Earth was no longer an option after the destruction of the
gateway. The language lessons were intensive–they needed to be on
account of its complexity, but actual cultural knowledge was
limited. It seemed that the humans colonizing new worlds had very
little interest in the inhabitants, as long as they weren’t given
too much trouble.

Most of the real life accounts of meeting with the
aliens
had come about mainly
from the few battles that had ensued between the two groups in the
early days of the colonization. There hadn’t been too much
resistance however, and the fights were short-lived and resolved
quickly. Most of the colonists had merely spoken about their
primitive lifestyles and lack of technology–deeming them to be
rather stupid and inferior because of this. Ashamed of it now,
Jillian had never questioned this.

She had, of course, encountered the
cat-people before. As head of security, an agent had radioed her
once with the report of two of them hovering by the perimeter of
her site.

“
We need you to move away from this area, please.” She had
called to them, testing out her language skills from the other side
of the fence. They had turned to each other, appearing stunned that
she could speak to them. Saying nothing, they had crept forward
stealthily and slowly. She noted that they were both males–bare
from the waist up their stomach muscles protruded from their
torso.

“
Move away from this area,
please.” She had insisted again, unsure if they had understood the
first time, but placing a hand over her stun gun just in
case.

“
We want to know what you
are building.” One of them asked.

“
It’s a…” Jillian faltered, knowing they would not have a
word for ‘gateway’ in their language–since no such thing existed to
them.

“
It’s a tunnel. For travel.” She had explained, figuring
their question had been harmless and that they were bound to be
curious. She had also drawn the judgmental conclusion that they
wouldn’t truly get what she meant.

The two
aliens had simply slunk back to the tree line and vanished, having
apparently gotten what they had come for. Whether they’d understood
or not, she never found out as they never returned.

Other than
that, she had had no other experience. Well, she was finding out
first-hand now, now it was too late to ask questions about how they
handled their prisoners, about what fate lay before her. Nothing
she had gleaned from her memories was going to help her in this
circumstance.

Soft breathing came from the sleeping feline-like creature
a short distance from her and for a brief second,
Jillian considered plotting an
escape–just in case her future was not bright, but sighed at the
notion. She simply did not have the energy left to even attempt it,
she doubted if she even had enough energy to stand, and the fur was
feeling more comforting by the second. Plus, there was a more
pressing issue at hand. Running her tongue along dry lips, she
became hyper aware of a raging and growing thirst. It baffled her
as to why they’d brought her something to eat but nothing to drink.
Swallowing a few times to try and create some moisture–another
physical problem struck her.

She
utterly and
desperately needed to pee. The irony of her body’s two most urgent
needs was not lost on her at that moment and she bit her lip at the
lack of options she had to sate either one. Shuffling on her fur
mattress, she deduced that the need to drink was greater, and
lifted the bowl of mush to see if it contained any liquid. The
contents had congealed so that a thin film coated the top, and her
stomach turned. If it had contained juice, it had long since
evaporated.

She huddled down and lay on her side, knees pulled in
towards her chest. Wanting to show strength, not weakness, she
would rather suffer than wake the sleeping creature and explain her
needs.
Her bladder throbbed
and her mouth felt dry to the point of stickiness. It seemed like
she would never sleep, what with so much need. But her resting
place was warm, and her day had been long and tough. Against her
mightiest will, her eyelids began to grow too heavy to keep open
and she soon fell into the ignorant blackness of sleep.

Chapter
Five

With a jump, she
woke. Memories of the events that had occurred the previous
day hitting her consciousness like a truck. She sat up immediately,
alert and aware straight away. Her heart sank as she took in the
surroundings. The grey stone making up the walls of her dwelling
were uneven and misshaped, held together precariously by unique red
mud fashioned into a sort of cement. A warming beam of sunlight
shone through the open door. She shook her hand and a loud rattle
reminded her of the fact that she was still chained
here.