Alien Commander's Captive

by Ashley Hunter

  I stood silently at the window until the very last robot had disappeared into the mist. Now that I finally had the remotest chance of escape, I found myself oddly sentimental.

  At night, from the library window, I could see the stars just as brightly as I had the night I first dined with the Commander. They glittered above the mountaintops like the last vestiges of fireworks. I had to admit, Dionus was slowly becoming as beautiful as Earth.

  I also forced myself to accept that I would never see the Commander again. I tried not to contemplate what his anger, his sense of betrayal, would be when he returned and found me gone, already back on Earth. If he returned. He had to return… and I had to go.

  My chance came even sooner than I’d anticipated. I’d carefully planned to somehow trick Alva into giving me more detailed schematics of the ship. I’d then ask the robot to take me to the library, and ditch the escort on the way.

  There had to be some sort of spacecraft on this ship; covertly, I’d been studying star maps and routes that would lead back to Earth. I felt decently confident that if I could just find a ship, I could make it home.

  Three days after Zenon had marched for the mountains, I emerged from my morning bath to find Alva standing sentinel in the middle of my room. The robot’s presence took me aback; it usually only appeared when called, or when delivering a message. Even stranger, the jagged door in the wall stood inexplicably open.

  “Hello, Alva. Do you have a message for me from the commander?”

  “Not from the Commander,” the robot replied. It held forward its hand, and a small figure appeared in its palms, as if it was holding a doll.

  I blinked in surprise as the figure gave a courteous bow. “Honor to Morgan of Earth,” the small figure of Captain Thal, which seemed to be a miniature of the hologram I’d seen in the dining room, said.

  “Oh… hello Captain Thal. How can I help you?” I sputtered, unsure what the protocol for answering holograms on this planet was.

  “You’ll pardon the intrusion… and the fact that I’ve temporarily hijacked this little droid to do it,” Thal jerked his thumb at Alva.

  “Well, Commander Zenon isn’t here…”

  “All the better, as you’re the one I wanted to speak to,” Thal cut in with a warm smile, “I couldn’t help but notice that, you’re in a bit of a bind.”

  “I am?”

  “Rumor among us is that you didn’t come here willingly.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. It was rather strange having aliens gossiping about me. “I don’t see if that’s strictly your business.”

  “It isn’t,” Thal answered lightly, “But, well… I have known Commander Zenon since he was a boy. His father and I were old adversaries and allies, depending on the day. It’s one thing to bring a female to Dionus for a little fun, but I am quite sure that his father wouldn’t approve of kidnapping.”

  Kidnapping. I’d avoided the word the last few days, grappling with my own conflicted feelings, but hearing it stated so blandly…

  “And of course, there’s the question of Yeft…” Thal trailed off, catching my attention again.

  “What about her?”

  “Oh? Did-Zenon not explain their history?”

  My stomach lurched at his words. “No. I thought she was just… another adversary.”

  “Far from it. They were engaged for a number of years. She was his betrothed until about, oh, a few months ago. Real shock, too… she has to be the prettiest woman on the whole of the world.”

  “They’re not engaged anymore?”

  Thal shrugged apathetically, “That was my understanding. But…”

  “But?”

  “I’ll be honest, earthling. I once had an Earth female who I was quite fond of. I hate to see one imprisoned against their will; it isn’t the honorable way. And I hate even more to see one… deceived.”

  “Deceived?” I asked nervously.

  “Their engagement ended, so far as I know, and yet the moment Yeft touched a toe across the border, Zenon went running. No doubt there will be less battles than there will be long nights of negotiation, complete with wine and... privacy.”

  Jealousy flared in me, but I quickly batted it back down. I have no right, I thought fiercely. I crossed my arms defiantly, “So what’s your point? He can negotiate with someone in private as much as he likes. Zenon has no obligation to me, nor I to him.”

  “Exactly! Which is why you won’t hesitate to take advantage of his absence to escape,” Thal said cheerfully.

  “What a spectacular idea,” I commented acidly, “But I’ve been trying to escape for a while now, and it’s not like I can just walk out of here and grab a space ship…”

  “You can with my help.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going to help me escape?”

  “Well, I can only point you the right way. While I was hacking into this walking tin bucket, I also picked up some vague schematics of the ship. I can lead you right to the hangar bay. From there, though, you would be on your own.”

  “And you’re helping me…. because of your Earthly lady love?”

  “Of course,” he said, and correctly reading my look of disbelief, added, “Oh, well, we on Dionus do enjoy playing pranks on each other. Zenon took my richest fuel well by convincing me there was an even better one just to the north… turns out he’d planted a decoy. I would simply see this as righting the scales.” He flashed me a significant look, “You do want to return to Earth, don’t you?”

  “Um…. give me a moment to pack,” I said hastily, and began to quickly gather my things, shoving them into my backpack, taking the opportunity to weigh my options. A part of me… far larger than I cared to confront… didn’t want to go.

  I’d been planning my escape since nearly the second I got here, and yet now that the moment arrived, the reality of never again seeing Zenon hit me like a gut punch. But what I couldn’t stand, even more than that knowledge, was how much Zenon would hate me for my betrayal. I had promised to wait for him, and disappeared under subterfuge. He’d loath me to the end of time.

  Yet, on the other hand, Thal was right… I really had no obligation to him. He was a kidnapper, a man who murdered my boss in cold blood and kept me captive here. And he’d lied to me… or at least, shielded the truth from me about his background with Yeft. Here I was, pining for him, waiting for him, while he was probably with her right now, on her ship, in her bed…

  I turned determinedly around to face Thal, swinging my duffel on. “Yes,” I said firmly, “I want to go home.”

  “Wonderful!” Thal pointed out into the hallway, “Go through there, and then follow the path I will set for you.” With one last bow, the hologram of the captain began to fade. “Safe star travels, little Earthling!”

  * * *

  I followed the flashing panels further into the bowels of the ship. Here the hallways’ lights began to dim, and the walls were of rough-looking metal instead of smooth silver. The air smelled differently down here, dusty and heavier.

  I must have been traveling into the very heart of the ship, the ancient center that Zenon’s ancestors created out of their dying planet.

  At last, I seemed to reach a place where the hallways finally ended. It was a non-descript brick wall, and yet this was where the Captain had directed me.

  I stood dumbfounded for a second, and an idea occurred to me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I thought as hard as I could, I need to go back to Earth. Let me go back to Earth.

  The wall split cleanly apart, revealing an enormous, long, semi-lit, room. The source of most of the lights seemed to be floodlights directed towards the ground; the ceiling was so high it disappeared into darkness.

  Droids raced between what looked like oval, all-glass pods, carrying machinery and heavy equipment. I quickly crept into the room and ducked behind a random pile of discarded parts.

  Waiting a few moments to ensure I hadn’t been spotted, I peered around the pile,
carefully examining the pods. Each of them had a curved seat installed that was clearly visible through the transparent membrane, and very little else inside.

  Something about them jogged my memory; the sight of the dark woods flashed in my mind, the recollection of Zenon’s strong arms around me. He was carrying me towards something that in my foggy state I thought was a giant snow globe.

  They’re ships, I realized with a jolt, Spaceships. Thal had led me right to the hangar. If I could just pilot one, I could get home.

  I took a quick survey of the droids. There were twelve in total, roughly one for every ship. Nearly all the ships were split open, the droids exchanging parts of fiddling with the interiors that made sparks jump up into the air. The only ship sitting unattended was at the very end of the hangar. I tried to trace a path from my hiding spot to the lonely pod; it’s involve sprinting nearly twenty yards without any cover.

  But it was my only shot. And I’d already come this far.

  I inhaled slowly, and let it out, trying to psych myself up. I double-checked that my duffle was firmly strung across my chest. Taking one last, deep breath in safety, I sprung from behind the pile and began to run towards the other end of the room.

  I heard no reaction at first. But halfway to the pod, I heard high-pitched squeaks; the droids’ way of showing surprise, I guessed. I looked around, waiting for them to charge me. To my relief, none of them did-they simply stood watching me. I wondered if they’d alerted Zenon of what I was up to, but quickly pushed the thought from my mind.

  The moment I reached the ship, I pulled off my duffle and began running my hands over the spherical outside, trying to locate the entrance. To my amazement, the ship responded to my touch-a quarter of the ship popped up vertically, like the door of a DeLorean. I tossed my duffle into the foot space in front of the curved seat, and clamored in, the door closing with a hiss behind me.

  Now for the hard part. Settling myself into the seat, I examined the control panel before me. It stretched almost the entire circumference of the round pod-the chair swiveled so I could reach.

  The panel was as flat as paper, and yet I still found the space a little claustrophobic, even for a not particularly tall person like myself. How in the world did Zenon manage to fit me? I thought idly, Unless he had me in his lap...

  Ugh, focus, Morgan! I forced myself to stare at the controls. Directly in front of me was a square section of thin rods, all standing vertically and bunched together. I tried to poke at them, but they remained rooted in place. The rest of the panel was a confusing mash of meters and display screens, but no buttons. I rubbed my eyes in frustration. I was completely lost.

  The droids seemed to have finally gotten sick of merely observing. From the corner of my eye I saw them congregating, as if silently convening with each other. As one mass, they turned and started for my ship. I had to get out of here, and fast.

  “Where’s a power button when you need it?” I muttered.

  As if in response, the ship gave a small shutter, and then lay still.

  I wanted to slap my forehead in exasperation. Of course! Concentrating with all of my might, I willed the ship to start.

  The droids were around me now, poking at the pod, forcefully yanking at the edges at the door, which seemed to have sealed itself once I was inside.

  Start, I vehemently willed the ship.

  The door groaned under the continued pressure of the droids, and opened a crack.

  Start, please, for the love of…!

  The ship exploded to life, its engines roaring in the echoing vastness of the hangar before melting into a soft purr. The droids released the door in surprise.

  “Lift!” I ordered.

  The ship obeyed, rising several feet off the ground. Right before me, the vertical sticks rose slightly off the panel. They’re a guide, I realized enthusiastically. I can get the hang of this.

  “Higher!”

  The ship slowly lifted, hovering nearly fifteen feet up. Making sure to maintain thought of hovering, so the ship wouldn’t tumble back down as soon as I wasn’t paying attention, I glanced around the hangar. Now, how did I get out?

  I decided to experiment. Turning back to the control panel, I said, “Ship… outside.”

  It hung suspended for a moment-and then with a burst of speed that slammed me back in my seat, drove straight for the ceiling. But no door was opening-there was nothing but what looked like very thick metal approaching at an alarming speed.

  I was going to crash! I tried to open my mouth, to order the ship to stop, but my thoughts were as much panicked soup as my insides.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

  But none came. I slowly opened my eyes to see myself surrounded by blue sky. I stared back at my trajectory in shock-there was a giant, pod-shaped hole quickly receding in the distance. The spaceship had torn through the ceiling like tissue paper. It sure was sturdier than it looked.

  Yelping with delight, I allowed myself a brief moment of triumph, soaring through the Dionus sky. This was really happening; I was actually succeeding!

  Marshalling my thoughts, I carefully paused the ship from climbing any further. The ship, responding to me as if it was an extension of my own body, leveled out, affording me a stunning view of the world below.

  The mountain peaks sat below my right hand like a jagged jigsaw puzzle, still half-obstructed by mist. On my left was the expansive desert, and far off on the horizon I could just make out a green tangle that must be Zenon’s oasis. His ship must be directly below me.

  I couldn’t resist seeing the exterior of the place that had been my home for nearly a month. Maintaining a firm grip on my thoughts, I slowly lowered the ship, steering it closer to the mountains, until I could see a good look at the Galatea.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw. The ship was deceptively small on the outside and looked exactly like an old-fashioned pirate ship. There were even cannons on deck, and a gang plank. Pure white sails were tied up along its massive mast, and it sat slightly crested on the unmoving wave of a dune.

  I could instantly see in my head the sails unfurled, flush with wind, as the ship rode and pitched the vast sand sea. It was so unlike what kind of ship I’d imagined Zenon piloting-and yet, seeing it, I sensed how well it fit him, with his winking sense of humor and fascination with all of Earth’s abundance.

  Thinking of the commander sent a stab of remorse through me. The memory of his smell, and the way his eyes shone as I’d asked him to return to me hit me like a hammer to the chest. Would he ever forgive me for this betrayal?

  A blaring alarm wailed through the small pod, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked around in alarm-I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t been controlling the ship. I hurriedly tried to arrange my will, but it was too late; the ship hovered, and then began to plummet.

  I wasn’t the most focused thinker at the best of times.

  Turned out I was even worse when the ground was quickly coming to meet me. I begged the ship to stop, to slow, to raise, to fly; it ignored me, heading straight for the slope of the nearest mountaintop.

  The vertical sticks were in complete freefall, pointing in all directions, but moving steadily towards the control panel. If they were accurate, I had only a few precious seconds left.

  I tried to swallow back my terror, forcing myself to be composed. Maybe Zenon would forgive me if I was nothing more than a crater in his planet’s surface. Steel self-control, I reproached myself, Make Zenon proud of you if it’s the last thing you do. I took one last parting look at the Galatea. Zenon Rath’al… I’m sorry.

  Suddenly, the engines exploded back to life. I lifted off the seat from the force of it as the ship desperately tried to fight back the momentum of its fall. But it wasn’t enough-a moment later, the glass hull slammed into the mountainside.

  I hit the side of the sphere with a thick thud, tumbling head over feet with the
ship as it rolled down the bouldered slope, metal scraping against rock. The fall threw me up, down, sideways, up, until I had no way of discerning sky from ground.

  At last, just when I was sure the ship was going to crack apart from the plunge, it finally shuddered to a stop.

  I lay with my cheek pressed against the glass, haphazardly pressed up against the control panel, panting with terror. I was somehow miraculously alive; the thrust had been enough to save me from making a new crater in the mountain face.

  When I was sure I wasn’t going to be physically ill, and a quick survey found no broken bones, I shakily shoved myself out of the wreckage on my hands and knees.

  And right into the middle of a droid ambush.

  I froze, staring around. They’d completely surrounded the crash-site, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, at least three lines of droids deep. For a wild moment, I thought they might be Zenon’s.

  Only a glance told me that they couldn’t be. These droids felt alien; their bodies were black chrome streaked with crimson, artificial war paint that reminded me of streaks of blood.

  Their displays glowed an eerie green color in the thick fog as they loomed silently over me. For all the spikes on Zenon’s lancers, none felt as menacing as these.

  Slowly, gingerly, I pushed myself into a kneeling position. Unsure what to do next; I raised my hands in surrender.

  “Um-take me to your leader?”

  One of the droids, even taller than the others, shoved its way forwards towards me. In its extended palm it carried a figure, slightly blurry around the edges. It was a three-dimensional projection of a woman, irresistibly attractive.

  Her icy blonde hair was done up in a series of elaborate twists, and she wore leather armor studded with metal spikes and precious jewels.

  She looked nothing like the woman in Zenon’s portrait and yet there was no doubt who she was; Yeft, Zenon’s intended. Even in miniature, she was as beautiful as Thal said-and the merciless scowl on her hardened face did nothing to mar it.

  “So,” the projection spoke, “This must be the human.”

  “Uh-hello,” I greeted it uncertainly.