Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (7 page)

This was all a very necessary exercise
if his plans for the woman were to be realized. His mind was made
up and her future now decided.

The sun was
starting to fade back in the village, and subsequently the heat
from it. Even though her security uniform was thick, Jillian
started to feel a chill and pulled a piece of fur from the pile to
huddle under. She looked on enviously as groups of the
aliens–mainly women and children, she noted curiously—made their
way into the largest of the huts.

She deduced that it must be some kind
of communal dwelling, and the envy came from the fact that the orb
of orangey light flickering inside made it look cozy and inviting,
and also because they had each other, while she had no
one.

The
loneliness was an aching throb inside her and provided the
motivation she needed to start looking for weaknesses in her
prison, the village and the people that were holding her there. She
felt hopeless, just sitting there, not knowing what was going to
happen. Surely a well-trained ex-soldier could figure a way to
escape from a primitive camp such as this?

She examined the cuff on her wrist. It was solid metal, and
fastened tightly with screws, but it was loose. On a whim, and if
she was honest, more to give herself something to do, she tried
pulling her delicate hand through the metal ring. Her skin bunched
up under it and turned an angry red as she yanked. A couple more
minutes of
pulling was all
she could bear, and she sat back on her fur, slightly breathless
from the exertion.

She fantasized about her freedom, and how she would clear
her name and prove her innocence back at the colony. She knew that
they would not be able to prove her involvement…but then she could
not prove her innocence either. If this rebel operation had
occurred from inside the military, she was sure that they would
have covered all bases in setting her up to take the fall for
the
gateway’s
destruction.

Unless Mikey
had managed some sort of miracle to convince the leading powers
otherwise…but he just was one man, against a powerful group of
goodness knows how many. Jillian wanted to go back home, wanted to
go back to Earth and try to rebuild her life. Sorrow stabbed her,
but even that was not even a possibility now–even if she could have
waltzed right into a colony who considered her a terrorist–the
gateway was no more. The re-construction would take decades, at
least as long as a rescue ship back to Earth. Every human on Zeta
Prime was now totally cut off, and would have to find ways of
surviving without support.

The gooseflesh on her arms had nothing
to do with the cooling of the day, and she had to bite her lip to
prevent the prick of tears in her eyes developing into lonely,
desperate sobs. A noise ahead of her made her raise her head, and
she saw the unfriendly female again, this time carrying
food.

Once she had
placed the bowl down, Jillian was flashed a false smile, which she
faked back. Going about her duties as she’d been asked by her
leader, Misha lit the fire in the center of the prison hut, turning
Jillian’s smile to a genuine one, grateful for the
warmth.

“
This is my last visit
tonight, so make hat food and water last. I do not care for
attending to you like a slave when you are so
undeserving.”

Keeping the
shock from her face, Jillian gave the alien an expression that she
hoped portrayed a lack of understanding. She understood her
prisoner status, but she was treated with so much more apparent
kindness from the male. The cold interactions with this woman did
not fill her with much hope, and she’d not seen the male the whole
day. Had he just left her here? Did he not feel any compassion
towards her? She had thought, last night … no. She shook the memory
from her head, realizing she must have misjudged it. She felt …
rejected.

As the
female left her alone once more, Jillian tucked into her meal,
fears about her internal compatibility with alien food long
forgotten. Although she had done nothing but sit and think all day,
she found she was hungry, and enjoyed the food as much as she had
that morning, paying no attention to the female’s warnings. She
would eat tonight and then sleep. Tomorrow she would deal with when
it arrived.

By the human prison bunker,
Faron and his brother observed the men patrolling around
the invisible fence protecting it.

“
They don’t seem
to
have any undue concern.” Camil leaned in to speak to
him.

Faron
gave a short
nod, the men acting as guards walking without any haste or urgency,
exactly as he had thought. After a while of watching, noting
nothing of any significance, Faron motioned to his brother that
they should move on. He wanted to check one more place, and then
his mind would be set at ease.

The whole area felt nostalgic to him now, heading to the
site where he had first noticed the woman. As they swung through
the trees, a familiar journey to them both,
Faron suddenly froze atop a branch and held out
his hand to stop Camil.

“
Slow down. Something feels wrong,” he whispered. He was not
sure what it was, but an overwhelming atmosphere of despair had
crept up to him. Moving much more slowly, as the massive clearing
that had become the invaders workplace came into view, Faron saw
why.

The giant,
circular construction that had been erected over the years that the
colony had been on Zeta Prime was now a gigantic pile of broken
boulders, dust and rubble. He had no idea what this meant or what
it was–but he knew enough to see and feel that the ruin before him
was not an intentional design. He had witnessed the careful work
that had gone into building this strange-shaped object, sure that
they would not have knocked it down intentionally.

“
This looks bad,
”
Faron commented. Camil, looking as stunned as he, had to agree. The
scene ahead of them was full of the small-eyed beings, some simply
staring at the wreckage, touching each other in comfort, others
trying to make headway into clearing the stones with large, noisy
machinery, while some paraded–appearing to be on the lookout. Faron
saw a male who he had seen spend a lot of time with the female now
residing in his village. He had obviously taken her place as
leader–pointing and guiding others to places around the
site.

Faron
tapped his
brother on the shoulder. Time to go.

“
They have enough going on here–
too much for them to be concerned over a missing
female. Let’s return. I have news for the tribe.”

Just as she
entered the fuzzy state between dreaming and wakefulness, Jillian
became aware of much movement from up in the village. Mentally
exhausted from the worry and theorizing over the last two days, she
didn’t have the energy to pull herself from the oncoming slumber to
take a look and see if she could access the noise. It was far
enough away for her not to feel in imminent danger, and as she rode
the final wave to unconsciousness, she could have sworn that she
heard cheers erupting from the main building.

As the men
returned, passing fresh carcasses of fat mammals to some of the
women to start preparing, there was a great buzz surrounding the
tribe in the moonlit cool of the late evening. Faron waited
patiently in the communal hall while the candles and fires were
lit, and his men greeted their loved ones.

The light from the flames reflecting off of the scarlet
floor made the space feel womb-like and safe. As his people sat
down at the tables,
Faron
made his way to the head of the room to inform his people of his
plans.

“
It has been witnessed
that we are in no danger from the invaders.” His voice commanded
quiet from the crowd. The men who had been out with him nodded in
affirmation of his statement.

“
You do not need to be
concerned about the safety of our village, or the trustworthiness
of the female I have taken. They seem to be unconcerned with her
location.” He omitted the fact that he had seen great destruction
within the colony, deeming that it would create unnecessary worry
as to retribution.

“
I have some important news to share with you all, and
although it’s unique, I wish for you all to respect my decision as
your leader. There will be a great celebration tomorrow–a big feast
and much joy.”

As
Faron told his
news, the villagers all cheered and congratulated him. It was a new
thing for the tribe, but they knew his choices came from a pure
heart and a loyal commitment to them, and they had no need for
questioning. It would be the start of a new evolution. Zeta Prime
was changing, and so would the people inhabiting it. The change
invoked excitement, for centuries everything had been kept the
same–now their tribe was part of radical, forward thinking times,
and there was a great deal of positivity around the fresh new
Chapter in their history.

Positivity
that stemmed from all but one. In the farthest corner of the room,
Misha looked sullenly at her people, feeling detached from their
rejoicing. Bitterness rose in her like poison and she backed out of
the room. Faron caught her eye sternly and she felt ashamed at her
emotions being caught so obviously. Worried about being shunned and
certainly not about to display herself as disloyal, she took a deep
breath and planted a smile onto her face, joining the tribe once
more.

Chapter
Eight

Waking to the sound of drumming,
Jillian prized opened her eyes and stretched
luxuriously on her fur. For a moment, she felt relaxed and
refreshed from the night’s sleep, then reality filtered through and
she snapped herself upright. Drums. She had felt something in the
air last night, and the methodical beat did nothing to allay her
fears. For some reason
—
gut instinct, a
mystical ‘feeling’
—
she had known that today was the day she would
discover her reason for being brought here, for being taken from
the colony. The drums sounded ceremonious. Something big was about
to happen.

Leaning her head to take in a view of the village, she saw
a lot of bustle.
Women
carrying what looked like large, woven trays containing bright
scarlet and evergreen leaves round to the back of that large hut,
and Jillian swore she heard an undulating, squeaking noise that
sounded very much like laughter.

Butterflies flit wildly in her stomach. She was
nervous
—
knowing somehow it was her day of reckoning. Three women
emerged from the building Jillian stared at, each holding large,
plaited foliage, fashioned into a sort of bag
—
carrying items she
could not see. They slinked over to where she sat, open-mouthed and
unmoving. She had never been approached by any other of the aliens
before
—
just the unfriendly one and her male. They looked very
similar aesthetically, chestnut skin and yellowy hair reflecting a
white strip of light from the bright morning sunshine, but as they
got ever closer, she saw that they were smiling. Not the forced,
cold stretch of the lips that she had seen before, but wide,
open-mouthed smiles, showing gleaming teeth and pointy incisors.
They would have been almost vampiric, if they hadn’t looked so
happy. Their long legs protruded from makeshift fur skirts, the
small mounds that she supposed were their breasts also covered by
the same cloth.

Talking all at once,
Jillian could only make out the odd few words from their
excitable chatter as, to her astonishment
,
one of them bent to
lift her wrist and released it from its cuff.

“
Beautiful hair.”

She managed to understand
that comment as the smallest of the three stopped to stroke
Jillian’s head. Rubbing her wrist and flexing her palm in a
stretch, she could do little but look at these creatures, confused
that they seemed to fawn over her.

“
Get up,
get up.” The one who had released her insisted. Mindful of her
pretense of ignorance of their language, Jillian remained on the
floor.

“
She can’t understand you. I’ll do
it.”

She was
gently pulled
to her feet with the greatest ease, their strength definitely a
trait apparent in the whole of the species. Standing now, these
females still towered over her and intimidation crept back–if they
wanted, they could do anything to her. Something in the atmosphere
dispelled the thought. There was almost a fizz of happiness between
the women
. S
he could detect no threat or malice. For now, at
least.

The shortest one slipped her hand
into Jillian’s and held it
.
The skin was so
wonderfully soft she had to restrain herself from moving her
fingers across it out of curiosity
.
Then
she was led out of her
prison, finally, into the warm, fresh air of the
village.

Although she had been able to poke her head from her hut,
there was something refreshing and free about finally being able to
stand outdoors, to feel the gentle breeze flow over her.
Jillian tilted her head backwards to
the sky–resplendent azure and purple–and took a deep breath of air
as sweet as honey. The women were impatient and carried on moving
as she did so, but she didn’t care, their babbling mere background
noise for the moment as she relished the movement in her legs, life
and feeling returning slowly to her muscles.