by Lula Monk
The back of her knees hit something hard. She turned around, and her heart dropped into her stomach again. A bed.
She turned back to the blue man, who now walked towards her.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
Samantha’s eyes blazed at him. No, she would never be finished. Not until one of them was dead. “Yeah.”
“Good.” said the alien, clasping his hands before him. “Now, to answer your questions in the sequence in which you asked them: No, I cannot read minds. That is not a skill members of my species were required to develop in the course of our evolution.”
Samantha shivered. He spoke so . . . technically. So formally.
Somehow, that made him seem more dangerous.
“As for the question of whether I bleed in the way you think of the term, the answer is no. We Glims do have bodily fluids, but our essence, the thing that gives us life and sustains us in the same way blood gives life and sustains your species, is light.”
With that, the alien lifted his hand and placed it over the shining spot on his chest. “Don’t fret, Earth woman. You did not mortally wound me. The spot will heal soon.”
Samantha sneered. “What good news.”
The alien smiled. “I’m pleased to find that you are verbally pleasant, even if your actions are somewhat erratic. But tell me, do all females in your species smell this repugnant?” He leaned down close to Samantha’s head and sniffed. “The odor is quite foul.”
She cursed the blush that crept into her cheeks. Why the hell should she care what this naked blue weirdo thought about the way she smelled?
“Yep,” she said. “All of us are this . . . What was the lovely term you used? Oh yeah, foul.”
The alien furrowed his brow at her, his face riddled with concern.
“Yes, foul.” he said. “I just identified that the odor permeating from you is most foul. Did you already forget? Is your intelligence inferior compared to others in your species?”
Her pulse raged in her ears. Maybe killing this blue bastard wouldn’t be so hard after all. Maybe he would piss her off enough that she would develop superhuman strength, like those people who raged and threw cars and shit.
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Sarcasm . . . I will have to research this verbal tactic.”
Samantha threw her arms in the air. “Sounds like a plan!”
The alien wrinkled his nose. “Please lower your arms. Raising them increases the potency of the smell.”
She stormed across the room, wanting only to put distance between herself and this infuriating creature. Maybe hitting her head on the top of her cage had damaged her brain, because his words were inspiring more anger in her than the fear of what he might do to her.
Her rage was eclipsing her fear by a fucking heap.
She stood facing a bare wall, her chest heaving. Maybe she was going crazy. That had to be it. This was all the result of some psychotic break brought on by the drudgery of her life, the endless cycle of eat, sleep, work, and binge watch bullshit television. She’d rotted her brain.
A presence loomed behind her. The alien.
He planted his hands on the wall on either side of her face. “Would you like to see?” he asked softly.
Samantha’s entire body went rigid, like one of those fainting goats she’d seen on the internet. She didn’t want to laugh at this, though.
The alien leaned closer to her, his breath hot on her neck. She pressed her forehead against the cool metal, felling trapped. She knew what he was about to do. He was naked, after all.
But instead, the alien swiped his hands outward, and the large sheet of metal in front of her transformed into a clear pane of glass. The transformation rippled out until the entire wall was transparent.
Her heart stopped beating for a second. Then, two seconds.
When it started back again, it hammered wildly in her chest. Her eyes widened, and she pressed her entire face to the clear wall before her, her breath sending fog spreading below her head.
On the other side of the wide wall was nothing.
Well, there were stars and some nebulous gases and perhaps a planet or two in the distance, but she didn’t know enough about planets to be able to spot one from lightyears away. They all looked like stars to her.
Space. Outer space. The real deal.
Her entire body began to shake. It was all real. She had tried. She’d tried so damn hard to convince herself that this was some shitty dream, some natural consequence from binging on tacos and triple chocolate ice cream right before bed. That she’d slipped into a diabetic coma, which was stupid because she wasn’t even a diabetic. But it was a disease that could creep up on people suddenly, and she’d thought for a few brief, shining moments that that is what had happened to her. Tex-Mex and triple chocolate-induced sugar coma.
But she wasn’t trapped in her mind. She hadn’t rotted out her brain from under use and overexposure to trash tv. This was real. All of it.
Even the alien who stood behind her.
She glanced up and saw his reflection in the pane of glass. But he wasn’t staring out at the void like she had been, astounded by the wonderous sight before them. And why would he have been? He’d probably seen views exactly like this one a thousand times before
No, the blue alien was staring down at Samantha.
Chapter 4
Dredge
The Earth woman still exuded an odor most displeasing to Dredge’s nostrils, but he felt compelled to stand close to her. She was such a small thing, so fragile and plain. Her features brought him no joy, her body none of the stirring of the loins of which the guidebook had spoken. She elicited no natural physical reaction from his human form. And yet, the look in her eyes when she beheld the starfield outside the Hub had made the organ in his chest miss a few beats.
When their eyes met in the reflection of the glass, he took a step back.
Was this some sinister plan of hers? Her method of escape? To force his bodily organs to fail?
He squinted at her, assessing her unimposing frame. Inconceivable. She had no weapons, no methods by which to inflict harm upon his internal organs. The guidebook had mentioned no cognitive skills that could make manifest in weaponry of any kind.
Odd.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
She stared at him in the reflection of the glass. “Of course I have a name.”
“May I have it, please?”
“Samantha.”
Dredge nodded. “Samantha,” he said, the word feeling strange on his tongue. “I am called Dredge.”
The Earth woman scoffed. “Perfect.”
Dredge stood up straighter, pleased at having received a compliment from the dirty creature. But he did not smile, for he was troubled by the realization that such a thing from the creature brought him joy. Why was he pleased?
Manners, he reminded himself.
“Thank you for acknowledging my perfection.”
The Earth woman – Samantha – turned around, glaring at him. “It wasn’t a compliment.”
Dredge frowned. “Sarcasm?”
Samantha nodded.
Well, that would take a while to acclimate to.
Hmm. Where to go from here? If she had been a Glim, he would complement her shine; but Samantha the Earth woman was dull. Almost dingey.
He knew he needed to mate with this creature, but he found the prospect very unappealing. Talking, he decided. Yes. He would talk to this Samantha, take stock of her mind. Perhaps there would be something there that would entice him.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen a starfield?” he asked, gesturing to the transparent wall behind her.
Samantha turned around and that look of awe returned to her face. The look that transformed her face in that moment was the closest Dredge had seen her to looking becoming,
“Yeah,” she said. She continued staring out at the starfield for a long time, so long that Dredge wondered if she had entered a sleep cycle
. At last, she turned back to face him. “So . . . where are you from?”
Her arms were once again wrapped around her stomach. Defensive stance.
Dredge took a step back to give her more room. “I am from the planet Brillar in the Luminous Galaxy.”
Samantha nodded, chewing at her lip. “How far from Earth is that?”
Dredge ran the computations in his mind. “Forty-seven.”
Samantha blinked at him. “What is that even supposed to mean?”
Dredge explained. “There are forty-seven intergalactic travel units between planet Earth in the C-458 galaxy and planet Brillar in the Luminous Galaxy, also known as the L-531 galaxy.”
“and that’s . . . very far from Earth?”
Dredge laughed. Oh, yes. Quite far.”
Samantha paced across the room. “But how far is ‘quite far’?”
Dredge furrowed his brow. “Forty-seven units.”
Samantha rubbed her hands on her face. “Whatever. There’s no point in knowing anyway, is it?”
“There is always a point to knowledge, Samantha. It is what we Glims most value.”
“Glim, huh? That’s what your species is?”
Dredge nodded.
“And that’s because of the . . .” She gestured at his chest. His healing abilities were slightly inhibited because of his distance from Brillar, and a small sliver of light still shone from the scratch the Earth woman had rent in his flesh.
He ran a finger across the wound. “Yes. We Glims are composed of light.”
“How can you be composed of light? That doesn’t make any sense.” She paused her pacing momentarily, surveying his body once more. When her eyes traveled below his waist, her cheeks reddened. She looked away, resuming her pacing.
“Would you like to touch it?” asked Dredge.
Samantha froze, turning her head to him slowly. Her eyes were wide. “No thanks.”
“My apologies,” said Dredge. “You kept glancing at it. I thought you might be interested.”
More redness in her cheeks.
“I . . .” She shifted on her feet, and another wave of her foul odor assaulted his nose.
He fortified himself. This was for the survival of his people. He could do this. He had to do this.
“Please,” he said. “I insist.”
When Samantha still hesitated, Dredge grabbed her wrist and placed her hand over the scratch on his chest.
She let out a breath of relief. More foulness.
“Your scratch,” she said with a small smile. “Of course you meant your scratch.”
Dredge nodded in agreement.
Samantha lifted her palm away from his chest and surveyed the scratch shrewdly. She traced its edges with the tip of her finger. “Where does it come from?”
Dredge liked the way his light spilled out, shining on her face. Even if she was a dirty, plain thing, his brilliance improved her appearance somewhat. “It is me,” he said
The Earth woman rolled her eyes. “Obviously it is coming from you, but what is it?”
Dredge furrowed his brow. “It is simply me, Samantha. I am the light you see.”
“So what is this?” she asked, her fingers skimming over his flesh. A strange sensation traveled down his spine and into his penis. What was that?
The Earth woman Samantha looked into his eyes, expectantly waiting for an answer.
“Oh, this is my body,” said Dredge. “It is like yours.”
Samantha shook her head. “No. Your skin is different. Drier.” She trailed her fingers up to feel along his clavicle then his neck. She pulled her hand away, inspecting the residue there, rubbing it between her finger and her thumb.
“Powdery,” she said finally, as if deciding on the correct term to describe the residue.
Dredge frowned. “I made certain to follow the exact specifications in the guide when I chose my form.”
Samantha took a step back wiping her hand on the side of her garment. The material shifted, revealing the outline of sufficiently wide hips, which pleased Dredge
“So, this isn’t what you actually look like?” asked Samantha.
Once again Dredge was confused. “This is my current form. I chose it to make you more comfortable.”
Her nostrils flared, and Dredge could hear the breath she pulled into her air sacks.
“Comfortable for what?” she asked.
Dredge smiled. Finally, they had arrived at the point of this whole interaction. “Mating, of course. Well, mating with the purpose of breeding. I have no desire to superfluously mate with you.”
Samantha made a strange sound then, a mixture between mourning and a war cry.
She flung herself at him again, this time set on gauging out his eyes. Her fingers dig into his orbital sockets, and the pressure there increased as if the organs would rupture. He put his hands on her waist to ease her back. Dredge thought that would be the simplest way to stop her onslaught of abuse.
As she stood glaring up at him, her chest heaving, he preened, pleased with himself at having neutralized the situation so well. But she stepped forward again, this time bringing her knee up to smash into his groin.
He crumpled to the floor, regretting having sculpted such a large piece of anatomy for himself. Gods, this was painful. How had the human species survived so long, if all their males were this vulnerable? Dredge winced. The pain was strange . . . He felt it in his penis, yes, but also in his gut.
When most of the pain had passed, he stood. The Earthling was banging on the entrance wall, searching as if trying to open the portal.
Ah. She did not know this room was programed with Dredge’s DNA as well. There would be no chance of escape for her. Not like this.
“Please,” Dredge said. “Remain calm.”
At hearing his voice, she spun around, her chest heaving. Her eyes were two wide liquid pools. Dredge took a step towards her.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. The words were spoken as a command, not begging. She sank to the floor, her fists raised defensively in front of her face.
“I would never dream of hurting you,” said Dredge. “You are to be the mother of my offspring. It is in your body that my little Glimling will grow and thrive, and it is from your body that it will receive nourishment. Why would I jeopardize any of that?”
She began sobbing. “I don’t want to have your baby, you sick fucking freak.”
“Not a baby,” corrected Dredge. “A Glimling. And I am not ill, but thank you for being concerned regarding my state of health.”
Samantha tilted her head back, laughing. The sound was strained, almost hysterical. Tears and snot dripped down her face. Dredge looked away, barely able to contain his disgust.
“Have I said something humorous?”
“Oh yeah,” said Samantha. “This whole thing is freaking hilarious. Did you think you could just purchase me, and then I’d be oh-so thrilled about the chance of getting one of your weird alien space babies–”
“Glimlings,” corrected Dredge again.
“Shit! Fine! One of your weird alien space Glimlings pumped into me? Because I’m not thrilled. I’m fucking terrified and I just want to go home.”
Dredge ruminated on her words for a moment, weighing them each carefully.
“Yes,” he said finally. “I did think you would be thrilled to mate with me. I followed the guidebook specifications to the letter, and my current appearance is meant to be the pinnacle of male perfection for your species.”
Samantha rolled her eyes again.
“Do your eyes bother you Samantha?”
“No,” she grumbled. “It’s a thing people do when they think the other person is saying something stupid.”
“So, it is a type of sarcasm?”
“Yes, Dredge. Shit. Okay, look. You may be attractive . . . or whatever. But just because you have a rock-hard body doesn’t mean I want to fuck you.”
“But I need you to, as you put it, fuck me. It is necessary.�
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She scoffed. “Necessary for who? Because I certainly don’t find myself needing to fuck you.”
Dredge frowned. Their relationship had taken a turn, it would seem. Samantha the Earth woman was clearly upset with him, thus her prodigious use of expletives and this wretched sarcasm, in which she appeared to be fluent. Perhaps the dynamic of their current configuration was to blame. She was seated on the floor at his feet, and he stood towering over her. Yes, this was probably the cause. She must feel threatened by his stance.
Dredge sank to the floor, squatting. There. Now they were at eye level. “Is this more pleasing to you, Samantha?”
Samantha looked between his legs and blushed once more. “No.”
Dredge stood saying, “I would be in your debt if you would consider my proposal.”
“What proposal, Dredge?” Samantha put her head in her hands. Her shoulders began shaking. A moment later, she said, “I don’t really have a choice, do I? I’m so far from home, and you paid for me, right? That makes me your property?”
“While I did purchase you Samantha, I will not force myself on you.”
She looked up at Dredge, her expression blank. “And why not? That’s what I’m here for right? Baking your little Glimling in my oven?”
Dredge gasped. “You Earth women cook your young?”
“It is just an expression, Dredge.”
“Right.” Dredge sighed. “I did purchase you to breed, because I need offspring. It is required.”
“Oh?” asked Samantha, quirking an eyebrow. The action made the dried blood on her forehead flake off, tiny rust-colored pieces floating down to land in her dark hair. “Can’t find a nice lady Glim to have your children, huh?”
“Glimlings,” corrected Dredge again. Knowing the Earth woman could attack him again, he took a chance and went to sit beside her on the portal wall. She shifted over, putting distance between them. Dredge stared down at his hands. “Unfortunately, no, Earth woman Samantha. I cannot find one of my own kind with whom to mate.”
“They all find you as repulsive as I do?” she asked, her words sharp.
Dredge knew she’d meant them to cause him pain, and they did.