He placed the space-loaf between them and tore the corner off, then held it out to her. She took it, partly to humour him, partly because she hoped he was about to prove she could eat it. He tore a piece for himself and put it in his mouth, staring at her in a manner that was probably supposed to be encouraging and gesturing to her chunk and miming eating it. She did chuckle a bit at that. He must think she was as thick as a brick the way he was making faces like a mother feeding her baby. She ate her piece, just to end the charade and hopefully restore some faith in her. It wasn’t so bad. It tasted mainly of starch, cardboard dust, and faintly of the blood from a raw burger, but it had the consistency of stale cake, so she could pretend. She’d had more unpalatable things in her life. At least it wasn’t slimy or moving.
So they had food. The aliens upstairs were feeding them. That was a huge weight off her chest, she realised, her mood greatly improving. Sure, she didn’t know how long she was supposed to make the loaf last, but she was okay for the next couple of days at least.
Her cellmate tore off another chunk and held it out to her, but Ruth held up her hand and shook her head. “I’m not going to eat yours, big guy,” she said. He looked like he was ready to press the issue so she quickly went and snatched the other loaf and brought it back. He looked pleased and ate the piece he had in his hand.
Eating with him was quite congenial. All other attempts at making friends had failed, but apparently the way to this man’s heart really was through his stomach. She didn’t know if all was forgiven, but at least they were sitting in the same half of the cell now. Her hand troubled her a bit, but she could use it to hold the loaf down while she tore with her left. Watching him eat was an experience. He wasn’t a messy eater, not by a long way, but the flashes of teeth she got were a little unsettling. His front teeth seemed to be thick, more like molars, but she was debating upgrading his canines from fangs to tusks. He was like a sabre-tooth tiger. His jaw was huge too, she imagined if he opened his mouth all the way, to show those teeth or use them, she would probably be able to comfortably fit her fist in there without touching anything. She renewed her conviction not to piss him off.
She felt like she’d eaten a lot, but hadn’t eaten even an eighth of the loaf. She could easily see herself picking at it constantly just for something to do in here. She wondered if it would make her gain any weight. If the loaf didn’t, the lack of movement would. It wasn’t like she could take more than ten steps at a time in here.
Her mouth felt like a sand-pit, and she was done with eating anyway. She went and got two of the ball things, wanting the tutorial on how to drink from them. He took the one she passed to him happily enough and she sat down opposite him, mirroring his cross-legged pose. She held the orb in her hands and waited. It felt like rubber. He looked at her for a moment, but didn’t play dumb, obligingly leaving his loaf for the moment to deal with the orb.
Ruth watched as he located a mark on it that she had missed earlier and picked at one side until he’d raised something like a tab, which he then took carefully in his teeth and after a few attempts managed to pull off. With his lips already sealed around the new hole he tipped his head back and drank. He lowered his head again and looked at her, the ball back in his hands. She realised he couldn’t put it down now it had a hole in it because it was perfectly spherical. A bit of a design flaw, she thought.
She turned her attention to her own ball, ready to make her own attempt. She looked for the tab thingy, and found that it was actually like the top of a strawberry or a grape, the place where a stem used to be. This thing was a plant. A perfectly spherical, liquid-filled fruit. Okay. She peeled up one side and took it in between her teeth, pulling gently until it separated from the rest of it and the liquid ran into her mouth. It was thicker than water, but very refreshing. It wasn’t as nice as fruit juice, but the cut-grass taste wasn’t horrible either. Yes, this would do nicely under the circumstances.
She drank half of it before lowering it again, feeling much better. She could almost feel herself rehydrating. The alien was watching her progress, unsurprisingly. She smiled at him to thank him for helping her, but he frowned. Her smile faltered, had she done something wrong? He was staring at her mouth, maybe the juice had done something to her? Maybe she was having a reaction that she couldn’t feel. She touched her lips but they felt normal, and her tongue still moved and wasn’t swollen. Movement to his side attracted her and she saw his tail flicking on the floor next to him. God, that was still so weird. A tail. She wanted to touch it. Maybe he would let her, now that they’d broken space-bread together?
Careful of the ball of juice, she put her hand flat on the floor and slowly edged it towards the tip of his tail, keeping a careful eye on his expression. She thought she was broadcasting her intention clearly enough, and indeed he frowned and his tail twitched an inch further out of reach. She halted her movement but she didn’t immediately pull back, so he lifted his lip and flashed a canine in half a snarl, then got up and stomped off back to the opposite side of the cell.
Ruth sighed and sat back. Looked like it was one step forward then a step right back again. But, she probably wouldn’t let him touch her tail either if she had one. They’d just met. She saw that he’d left his loaf behind. Well, she wasn’t as afraid of the stubborn baby as much as she had been, so she picked it up and marched it right back over to him, pointedly plonking it down next to him before sashaying back to her side to enjoy what was left of her berry.
A little breakfast really did wonders for her mood.
Chapter 8
The problem with eating and drinking is that you then need to go to the toilet. This was something Ruth had been dreading. Intellectually, she knew that if left in here for long enough, she would lose her shame. Her cellmate was already walking around naked after all. It was a natural, necessary, bodily function, but was a screen too much to ask? Her bladder was making its demands, but she was determined to hold it for as long as she could. She’d already popped her waistband open. Damn.
The first time would be the most embarrassing, she knew that. In prisons on TV, the cellmates often only had one toilet between them in the cell, and nobody had died of mortification as far as she could tell. The alien must have been using that drainage pipe the whole time he’d been here. He must be aware she would have to do the same. If only he would go first and break the seal.
Of course, she was aware that she could be wrong. Maybe that wasn’t the purpose of the hole in the floor. How humiliating would that be if she’d got it wrong! But she’d been all over the cell and not found any other facilities, no buttons or hidden compartments. And she was pretty confident she’d be able to tell if Tarzan had been peeing in the corners. She also refused to believe that a being so physiologically similar to her, able to eat the same diet, didn’t also have to relieve himself from time to time. An alien he might be, but not that alien.
She was also painfully aware that there was no flush, no toilet paper, and no means of washing her hands. She just had to pretend it was a cabin at a festival. She really didn’t have any other alternative here, other than peeing on herself or rupturing her bladder or something. With that in mind, she struggled to her feet to try to convince her cellmate to at least turn around.
He sat a little straighter as she approached him. She had to be quick because standing made her discomfort worse. She stopped a couple of feet in front of him, making sure she had his attention.
“Okay, buddy,” she said. “I’ve got to pee, so you’re going to turn around now.” He looked blank, as she knew he would. She pointed at the wall, and he obligingly looked over his shoulder, but then turned back to her, frowning in confusion. She stirred her finger in a circle, a gesture which she considered to be universal. Even dogs recognised that gesture! But not this guy, oh no. He watched her finger, but otherwise didn’t move. Time to get graphic. Ruth tapped her chest as obviously as she could, then pointed behind her at the hole.
“Get it?” she said, raising he
r eyebrows, her hands planting on her hips as she tried not to do the pee-dance. He couldn’t be this dense. She thought she saw something like a suspicion in his eyes and narrowed her eyes at him. “You are turning around or I’m peeing on you,” she threatened. She pointed at the wall again, and he looked but her message was clearly not getting across. She was getting desperate, she already was desperate! She tapped her chest, pointed at the hole, then pointed at him and covered her eyes to show him what she wanted. “Come on, I can’t make this any more obvious for you!” she almost cried. She needed to go, like, now.
He looked at her, then slowly, and clearly not understanding why he should, he brought his hands up to cover his eyes.
“Yes! Yes, thank you, just like that, stay like that,” she encouraged loudly, racing away and pulling down her slacks. She kept her eyes on him because she didn’t fully trust him not to look halfway through, and she kept spouting praise at him so he would know it wasn’t safe to look. “Great, just like that, don’t look yet...”
When she was done, she used a tiny ball of tissue she had leftover in her jacket pocket, then dumped it in the hole, knowing full-well that was the last of it. One thing at a time, she told herself. She might still be rescued.
She redressed and went to let the alien know he could uncover his eyes. She almost touched him, but then remembered he didn’t like that. She cleared her throat, and he hesitantly peaked over the tops of his hands. She smiled.
“Thank you,” she said, pressing her hands together like she was praying, another gesture she felt translated well. Or maybe not. He frowned up at her, and slowly pulled his lips back from his teeth. Ruth’s smile faltered. He wasn’t snarling exactly, and the emphasis was definitely on the front teeth, rather than when he would show his canines to warn her away from him. He didn’t look like he was angry, or trying to scare her, so why was he baring his teeth like that? She decided it was probably best to play it safe and retreated back to her side of the cell to nibble on her ration-loaf some more. He rumbled something, but she didn’t understand.
She looked at her watch. She would be at home now, if it was a normal day. She’d be eating dinner on the sofa in front of the TV. She sighed. Had she wasted her life? Had this happened to her because she’d stayed in every night, moved from job to job, left no mark? She hadn’t minded her life when she’d had it. She had a few friends that she spoke to now and then. She phoned her parents every weekend. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t wanted a career, that was just where the economy was right now. Would she change anything if she ever found her way home again? What could she trade God for her escape? She couldn’t think of anything. Maybe her life hadn’t been great, but she’d never been a bad person. She didn’t deserve this.
Could she sleep some more, she wondered? Nothing else to do, and the food excitement was over. It had turned out that the outside of the water-fruit had been edible too. It was rubbery, but refreshing. They hadn’t given them anything that would leave anything behind, which was why the cell had been totally empty when she’d arrived. The food didn’t come on trays or plates, and it didn’t require utensils. When the food was eaten, there wasn’t anything left they could turn into a weapon or a tool.
Ruth wondered if they were the only prisoners on the ship. Maybe there were other cells with other humans - or aliens – inside that they just couldn’t hear. Where were they going? Why? She pushed away the questions she didn’t have answers to.
She sighed and balled up her jacket again to sleep on. She hoped it was a short journey to wherever they were going. She thought she’d snap if she had to live like this for much longer. She lay on her side this time, facing the wall, her back to the alien trapped with her.
Chapter 9
When Ruth next woke up, the alien was asleep. At first, she was unnerved by the deep breathing she could hear, but when she saw he was asleep, she relaxed. He was lying down in a position very similar to hers, only he was facing into the room. His head was pillowed on one arm, the other curled under him, propping him up. His face looked surprisingly peaceful, without the frown he wore when awake.
She realised this was her chance to study him. He was always staring at her, now it was her turn. Obviously, she knew what he looked like. The protruding teeth and massive jaw, flat nose and heavy brow. The dark, almost black hair that spilled from his head, down his shoulders and the outside of his arms and legs, and the slate of it covering his chest. She wondered what his back looked like. She knew he had a tail, but she couldn’t remember getting a good look. He had been pretty careful so far about not putting his back to her. But she thought she could remember peeking a strip of dark fur running down his spine, leaving the rest of his back bare. It was a funny pattern. It must be like camouflage. If the dark fur was hard to see at night, his body would be cut into otherwise meaningless shapes. She wondered if it was offensive or defensive. Were they tiger-stripes or zebra-stripes? With those fangs, she thought probably the former.
There was no denying he was in shape either, and being in confinement hadn’t seemed to have done him any harm. Maybe the gravity was higher on his planet? Maybe the ration-loaf was full of protein? She’d believe that actually. Every part of this guy was big. Big teeth, big eyes, big chest, big arms, big legs. And yes, she was looking at his dick again, but it was kind of hard not to. He was naked! Sleeping, he was kind of cute though. Ruth hadn’t woken up next to many guys, not ones who weren’t already pulling their pants on and looking for their watch. She wondered how old he was. She supposed age in years was relative. His planet probably didn’t take 365 days to go around the Sun, and it probably didn’t take 24 hours for it to rotate on its axis either. That would be an astronomical coincidence. She thought it was safe to say he was physically mature, and adult. And nothing on him was sagging or grey, so he must not be entering into old age. To her, he looked like he was in his prime. She wondered how she looked to him. Ruth didn’t think anyone had ever used the word “prime” to describe her.
His breathing was oddly soothing. It was a sign of something else being alive in there with her, like sleeping with a dog in the room. He wasn’t trying to keep quiet. As she watched him, she thought she saw shadows like bruises on his body, two or three on his stomach and side and legs. She hoped he’d got them before he was taken, but they looked like some were more recent than others. Ruth’s heart went out to him. Maybe she was getting sentimental watching him sleep when he couldn’t growl or snarl, but for the first time she imagined what it must have been like for him before she came. His lifestyle could have been even more different to this than hers. She at least was used to spending her time indoors, and she had technology. Her species had gone into space and was familiar with the concept of aliens. Maybe it was the fur and the nakedness and the teeth influencing her perceptions, but she pictured him in a green jungle somewhere, watching the stars from his tree-house.
And he had been alone in here, for who knew how long. If he’d been lonely though, he could have been friendlier, she thought petulantly. But she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gone a little stir-crazy. All things considered, he still hadn’t attacked her, and had even tried to help her. Okay, he didn’t like being touched. That was his right. She probably wouldn’t want him touching her either if she thought about it. Maybe it was taboo in his culture. Maybe he thought she had germs.
She checked her watch. It was the very early morning hours at home. She’d never been an insomniac, but she wasn’t prone to going to bed early and taking naps in the middle of the day either. While her cellmate was asleep, she thought it would be prudent to take the opportunity to relieve herself again. She then had a leisurely breakfast of stale ration-loaf and some more space-juice. She had to open her second berry thing, and wedged it into a corner behind the loaf to keep it from spilling. She was learning how to get by in her environment. Not bad.
Not being able to wash was going to become a problem for her though. She’d always been a clean person. She wasn’t afraid of gett
ing dirty, or taking a day off from showering if she wasn’t going out, but wearing the same clothes every hour, with no deodorant, and no hairbrush? Oh yeah, that was going to wear thin real soon. She’d noticed when she’d first arrived that the cell smelt. Presumably it was actually her cellmate. She could barely detect it now. She must be getting used to it. It had been pretty unappealing, but it wouldn’t take long before she was too. She had to learn not to call the kettle black.
Her thoughts were disturbed by the man in question jerking awake. He seemed to take a moment to orient himself, and she wondered how long it would take him to remember where he was waking up, and how long it would take her. He seemed to have forgotten she was there too, because he froze when he saw her watching him, before pushing himself into a sitting position. Yeah, me too, buddy, she thought.
He glanced at her awkwardly, then stood up and walked toward her, making her tense and wonder what he was doing. He pointed to the wall behind her. She looked but couldn’t see anything. Looking back at him in confusion, he put his palms over his eyes, and she got it. She almost giggled. He had to use the hole. She smiled and obligingly rotated so she was facing the wall. They were working things out, learning to live with each other, and it had only taken a day.
She heard him grunt behind her and turned back around. He placed his hands together like she had done the day before, and bared his teeth. Why did he do that? Then she realised, he was trying to copy her smile! She wasn’t sure if she should be offended, but clearly his people didn’t have smiling, and she had to admit, it didn’t work very well with protruding teeth. He was quite good at copying her, he apparently only needed to see something once. She warmed when she realised he was doing it to try to communicate with her. Not only was he intelligent, he was being friendly!
Ruth's Bonded (Ruth & Gron Book 1) Page 4