by Zara Zenia
It was a window, massive and curved like the bow of a ship. Which it must be, she realized, albeit a ship larger than any ever conceived. Because outside that window stretched the vast, starry emptiness of space. They were passing by a stellar cloud, a strange drifting cloud of gas and dust. A nursery for stars. There was a planet in view, only the size of a ping pong ball from this distance. She thought about how, in a billion years, when a star formed in that cloud, that planet would probably be destroyed. She laughed hysterically, then cried, then sat down, staring out at the slowly passing majesty of space.
She'd been sitting there a while before the sound of a footstep behind her sent her into high alert again. She spun around with a yell, brandishing her stick. It was the alien again, tall and blue, and judging by its expression, it was not amused. It said something in its rolling, lyrical language.
"Where am I?" Jewel shouted back, threatening it with her stick. "Take me home! Right now!"
Rather than answering, it lunged at her suddenly. Jewel dodged and tried to run, but it caught her by her ponytail and yanked her back. She yelped in pain and kicked out at him, trying to get away, but her attacks didn't seem to have much impact. She was pretty tall at five foot eleven, but this thing had to be eight, nearing nine feet tall and built like a linebacker. It picked her up like she was nothing, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her against its broad chest as it started walking back toward her enclosure. Despite everything, it was surprisingly gentle, tolerating her flailing with little reaction. Whatever else it wanted, it didn't seem to be trying to hurt her. Its skin was silky and slightly cool, as though it were coldblooded.
"Let me go!" she shouted, struggling as hard as she could. "I'm an intelligent fucking creature deserving of some goddamn respect!"
Out of ideas, she bit the arm that was around her as hard as she could, drawing blood. It tasted like raspberries and battery acid, and she pulled away instinctively, retching. The alien hissed in pain and dropped her, planting a foot on her to pin her down as it dug in the pockets of its long white robes for something. Jewel struggled, humiliated to be so easily pinned. If this thing wasn’t so ridiculously big, she would have kicked its ass. It pulled out a small white square like a nicotine patch, then knelt, removing its foot but catching Jewel by the throat and holding her to the floor. Jewel fought, panicking, but the alien calmly slapped the white patch onto her arm before letting go. The patch, it turned out, was some kind of sedative. Jewel managed to scramble to her feet, but she only got a few steps before she collapsed, blacking out.
She didn't so much wake as drift briefly into consciousness, her limbs too heavy to move. The world swam dizzyingly before her eyes, a bare clinical room. She was lying on a cold white table, a bright light shining into her eyes. The place felt weirdly familiar. She'd been here before. She'd almost forgotten or dismissed it as a dream. But she'd woken up in here before the meadow. She'd been tied down and there was a machine—
She shuddered, her thoughts skittering away from the memory like an insect away from the light. She didn't want to remember what had happened on this table before. But she knew she didn't want to be here now. She struggled to move, to fight or run away, but she couldn't even lift her arms. She didn't think she was tied down, just too heavily sedated to function. Her eyes roamed the strange white room in search of something to help her.
The alien stepped up to the table on her left and she made a small, frightened sound, the closest she could get to a scream. Its arm was bandaged where she'd bitten it. It was holding something like a tablet, reading it as it reached for her. She flinched but couldn't do anything to stop it as it ran a curious hand over her stomach, her throat, her arms. Its touch was gentle, its skin soft as it explored her with detached curiosity, leaving weird tingles in the wake of its touch. Finally, it found her pulse in her wrist. It frowned, or at least she assumed that was a frown. For an alien, that might be smiling.
Seemingly satisfied, it started to move away. She summoned every ounce of strength she had to lift her hand and reach for it. She didn’t have the strength to grab its hand, but her fingers snagged briefly on its sleeve. It paused, clearly surprised, and looked back at her.
"Please," she said, struggling to stay conscious, to find the energy to speak at all. "You have to understand me. I just want to go home. Please. Please . . ."
Then she was out again, her energy spent.
She woke face down in the grass again and groaned miserably. She rolled over to confirm that she was, in fact, back in the fake forest. She felt groggy and dizzy, her arm itching. She limply reached over to scratch it and felt the white patch still there. She peeled it off and instantly felt more alert, energy slowly returning as whatever sedative the patch released stopped flooding her system. It must have been running low anyway. She sat up, looking around unhappily. The sky was several feet higher now. She wouldn't be getting out that way again.
Not that there seemed to be much point in getting out. She was on an alien ship somewhere in space, and judging by the planet and the cloud she'd seen, nowhere near the solar system she knew. Even if she could break out of this habitat again, she couldn't get off this ship. She was stuck here, at the whim of her alien keepers.
Her stomach growled noisily. It was early morning, the fake sun rising in the pale blue sky, and she hadn't eaten since lunch the day she'd been taken. God only knew how long she'd been unconscious between then and now. She was starving. Thirsty too. And she could use a shower.
She pulled herself together and headed toward the river. She wondered how to make the chime thing send her fruit again. As she reached the water, she knelt beside it to drink, hoping it was safe. It had seemed normal enough when she'd swum through it yesterday, but this was an alien ship so there was no telling what might be in it. She supposed it was worth the risk not to die of thirst. There was only so much she could worry about at one time here.
Once she'd drunk her fill, she sat back, wondering how to tackle problem number two—food. She hadn't seen any fruit trees, but there were maples. She could figure out how to get syrup from those maybe. Were there any fish in this river? She squinted at the water thoughtfully. Fine. Food could be problem number three. She'd think about it while she dealt with the next problem, which was that she wanted a shower. She glared at the far wall, knowing any number of aliens might be watching her through it right now. Oh well, she thought. Fuck them. Let them get an eyeful. Who cared at this point?
She pulled her clothes off almost aggressively, stomping into the water, all the while glaring at the far bank of the river, daring whoever was looking to say something. The water was cold and it felt good to get clean. As she examined herself, she realized the bruises and scrapes from yesterday were all gone, vanished overnight. Handy. The aliens must have some kind of advanced medicine.
Yesterday during her exploring, she'd discovered that the river turned as it approached the corner of the room, growing shallower until it vanished through a thin gap under the riverside wall. No way out there. No sign of fish either. Maybe in the center of the river where it was deeper? She'd seen a handful of small animals and insects so far. Bees, a few birds, pollinators and seed carriers. Cornerstone species. It seemed like this habitat was meant to self-regulate for the most part. She was the biggest thing in here so she had to assume it was intended to be for her. So there had to be some way for her to feed herself, right?
Done washing, she climbed out of the river and sat on the rocks in the sun for a moment, drying off. The constant, fanlike breeze helped even if it made her shiver. She sat with her back facing the riverside wall, wondering if she really was being watched. Maybe that was the solution, actually. Maybe watching was exactly what she wanted them to do.
Instead of putting on her clothes, she took them and held them over her head as she swam across to the narrow bank on the wall side. She shook off and got dressed, not caring that she was still a little damp. This was more important. She banged on the wall with her fist.
"Hey!" she shouted. "Hey, are you out there? Can you hear me? I'm done with this shit. It's time to have a conversation. You and me, E.T."
There was no response, but she hadn't really expected one. She remembered an article she'd read on the internet once about first contact. There'd been a whole complicated process of figuring out how to ask and answer simple questions using a language based on universal mathematical principles which had been way too complicated for Jewel to totally understand or remember. But step one was making the alien species recognize that you were intelligent and capable of communicating in the first place. Any species intelligent enough for space travel would have to understand basic math. So if she could show that she knew how to do basic math, it would recognize it and realize she wasn’t a wild animal. She just hoped that mattered to this species.
"All right," Jewel yelled through the wall. "Pay close attention, because I'm not sure I remember all of this, so I really need you to pick up on it, okay?"
She banged once on the wall.
"One," she shouted. Just for extra emphasis, she bent and drew a line in the sand, repeating, "One."
Then she hit the wall twice.
"Two," she said, adding a second line next to the first one. "Got it? One, two?"
She went all the way up to ten, then went through it again.
"God, I really hope there's someone on the other side of this wall," Jewel muttered, exhausted. She kicked it in frustration. "Can you hear me, you big blue asshole? I'm hungry, damn it!"
She heard a chime and turned around to see a pile of fruit on the other side of the river. She sighed. There was no telling if it was an answer or just the room trying to get her to stop messing with the walls again. Whatever, so long as it was food. She took off her clothes again and carried them across the river, redressing on the other side before she sat down to eat. If this stuff was poisoned then oh well, she guessed she would be poisoned.
There wasn't just fruit this time, but nuts and vegetables as well. A balanced vegetarian breakfast. At least she wasn't going to die of malnutrition from eating nothing but fruit. Things were looking up.
Once she'd eaten enough to satisfy herself, she wrapped the rest in her shirt and waded back across the river. She went back to counting, even throwing in some basic addition and subtraction just to be fancy. She kept it up most of the day until her voice was sore and she was so sick of counting that she never wanted to see a number again for the rest of her life. She was just about ready to give up, her head leaning against the wall, croaking out numbers on autopilot when she heard a chime.
She looked back at first, but there was no fruit behind her. Instead, a panel in the wall beside her was opening. She scurried backward nervously as the alien stepped through the doorway. The door closed behind the alien as it came to a stop, looming silently over her. She slowly got to her feet, watching the alien warily.
"I'm warning you right now," she said. "If you come after me with one of those sedative patches again, I'm going to drown your ass in the river."
She saw the alien's nostrils flare, its mouth pinched in a thin line, expression annoyed and put upon. Its face was really surprisingly human, its expressions clear. It was almost handsome in a strange way.
"It seems," the alien said in perfect English in a low, clear voice, "that a mistake has been made."
Chapter 4
"A mistake?" Jewel repeated, her eyes wide.
"Yes," the alien confirmed. Jewel waited.
"What kind of mistake?" she demanded when it didn't elaborate. "What the hell is going on here?"
The alien cleared his throat.
"You are aboard the Ra'hom Zoological Research Vessel, Diviner,” the alien explained. "I am its Curator. Diviner travels the known universe seeking life-bearing planets, collecting data and samples. When we encounter a planet with megafauna, the ship selects a healthy live subject to bring aboard this ship. The display of charismatic megafauna helps foster interest in education and conservation among the Ra'homi public."
"I'm in a zoo," Jewel simplified.
"It is a bit more than just a zoo—"
"I'm in a space zoo," Jewel said, cutting him off. "And I'm talking to an alien."
"Yes," the Curator said helpfully. One again, Jewel waited for him to clarify. He didn't.
"How are you speaking English?" she asked. "Could you speak it the whole time?"
"I am not speaking English," the Curator explained. "I am speaking a Ra'homi language. But the ship is equipped with auto-translators. They pick up the auditory input and the psychic intent behind the words and project the meanings telepathically to the listeners for seamless contextual understanding. The auto-translators are typically only equipped to translate between different Ra'homi language groups, but when I realized you were attempting to communicate I pulled the collected data on your planet and added your species’s languages to the translator's lexicon."
"Oh," Jewel said, a little stunned. "Universal translator. Makes sense."
Now that she was paying attention, she could almost hear his strange purring language underneath the English she thought he was speaking.
"Yes," the Curator said. Jewel fought the urge to punch him.
"So how did this happen?" she asked. "Does your zoo make a habit of scooping up and imprisoning innocent people?"
"No," the Curator answered, and for a minute, Jewel thought he was going to stop there, but he continued. "This is a unique situation. The Diviner is almost fully automated. It sets its own course and chooses which planets to examine based on internal calculations. It even builds the habitats entirely on its own. It is always taking on new samples and specimens. But you are the first time the Diviner has encountered intelligent life. This is the first time the Ra'homi people have encountered other intelligent life."
The Curator paused for a moment to let that sink in.
"Holy shit," Jewel said articulately.
"Indeed,” the Curator said impassively. Jewel wondered what that translated to in his language. “The Diviner was not prepared for this possibility. It merely detected that your species was the most widely established form of megafauna on your planet and selected a suitable sample subject for observation based on ideal parameters."
"Parameters?" Jewel asked.
"A healthy young adult with no dependent offspring, preferably isolated without a herd or family group that might suffer from their absence, and preferably alone and about to die," the Curator said. "A random subject was selected from the individuals who met that criteria, and you happened to be the one chosen."
"But I wasn't about to die," Jewel pointed out. "I was fine!"
"According to your file," the Curator replied, pulling a tablet from his robes to check the data, "you were in a geographically unstable area during a heavy storm. Had the ship not taken you, you would have been swept away in a mudslide shortly afterward."
"Oh." Jewel sat down heavily on the nearest rock. She took a few deep breaths and shook her head to clear it. "Okay. That's fine. Whatever. Now that you know I'm intelligent, you've got to take me back home, back to Earth. Right?"
"No," The Curator said and turned around.
"What?" Jewel went pale, jumping to her feet and following him. "Listen, if you're worried my species will be angry, trust me, they won't! They'll be thrilled! Humanity has wanted to meet aliens forever!"
"I am afraid it is simply impossible," the Curator answered, calm and unconcerned. "But we will endeavor to make your life here as comfortable as possible from now on."
He opened the panel he'd come in through and started to step through. Jewel caught him by the arm.
"You can't just keep me here," she demanded. "I'm an intelligent being. I have rights!"
"I will research your home world for ways to improve your habitat," the Curator said, shaking her off easily. "Please do not attempt to leave it again."
Then the door closed behind him and he was gone, leaving Jewel alone.
She
wasn't ashamed to say she threw a temper tantrum, screaming and throwing rocks and sticks and anything else she could pick up at the wall he'd left through, calling him and his entire species every foul name in her memory, which was extensive. Eventually, she wore herself out and sat down and cried for a while. She hadn't cried this much in years. This situation was too strange and overwhelming. How was she supposed to process this?
After a while, she pulled herself together. So she was stuck here for now. At least until she could convince the big blue asshole to take her home, which she would. Until then, she might as well make herself comfortable. She took the sharpened rocks she'd collected earlier, tore a strip off the bottom of her shirt, tied it to a stick, and made herself a phenomenally shitty little axe. Still, it was better than doing it by hand. She hacked a few branches off the nearby trees and made herself a lean-to on one of the rocks. Better than nothing, she supposed.
She'd be off the ground anyway. She supposed fire was the next step. All of these trees were young so there wasn't really any dry timber around, but she'd just have to do her best. She'd been a girl scout, and Basic had come with some wilderness survival training. She could do this. She got herself a few more branches, ignoring the raw blisters on her palms which were rapidly turning bloody.
She dug a crude little pit near her lean-to and got to work, muttering curses to herself as she fought with the green sticks that were all she had to work with. She got a little spark going, however, and laughed triumphantly as she sheltered it, trying to get it to catch on the grass and torn fabric from her shirt she was using as kindling. Just as it was starting to catch, there was a sudden chime and it began to rain, hard, directly over her fire pit.
"What the fuck?" she shouted over the river at the wall. After a moment, it opened and the Curator appeared.
"You cannot do that," he said.
"Why not?" Jewel demanded, yelling across the water at him.