Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt)

by S. A. Jackson

  After what felt like an age, the school teacher reached round and pulled a dark curtain around his cage and he disappeared from view. Forgetting her act, she sat bolt upright in surprise, then looked up to the corner of her cell–there was a thick curtain hanging, bunched into a strip. How had she not noticed before? They must have put these up to enable prisoners a modicum of privacy when using the bathroom.

  As the curtain next door opened again, the man showed no signs of tiredness. Indeed, he sat very much still transfixed with his strange female neighbor. This was the most interesting occurrence he’d seen in weeks.

  She counted another five minutes in her head, avoiding eye contact with the nosy prisoner and looking as nonchalant and relaxed as she could whilst feeling the exact opposite to either. When she’d considered an appropriate amount of time had passed and no guards were nearby, casually, she pulled her own curtain across all four sides of the cage. Hoping with every bit of her being that the man would be looking away now he couldn’t see her, she reached the fob to the front of the lock. It opened easily and she allowed herself just enough space to squeeze her body through.

  Not bothering to see if she had been spotted–it would be too late now if she had, and stopping to check could cost precious seconds–Jillian kept her body lowered, darting as quietly as she could to the row of empty cells opposite, glad of her dark clothing. Scanning up and down the next row, she felt a beat of relief at seeing they, too, were empty, and she jumped across the pathway towards them. From here, she could see the edges of the bunker, and afforded herself a minute to try and orientate a back door. Running blind would be foolish–she had only one shot at this and she had to do it right.

  Despite the light being poor, she noticed the shiny keypad next to a small square in the side of the bunker. The square looked like it was quite high, and was certainly not big enough to be a door. She figured it must be a delivery hatch or something, and decided it would be her best chance. It was four foot off the ground, but she was fit and agile–she knew she could clear it. Trusting that the magnetic fob Mikey had left her was indeed a master, she took a run up to the keypad, stabbing it with her stolen key and swinging herself up to the now open hatch.

  Jillian winced as her boot caught the edge of the bunker. A dull noise vibrated from the contact, but she was not sticking around to see if anyone had heard. The momentum of her jump shot her through the opening, and she automatically hit the ground outside in a shoulder roll–military training had a lot of uses–so she barely lost speed as she raced towards the perimeter fence.

  Darting her head up and down the shimmering force field surrounding the prison, she tried to spot the next keypad that would drop the protection and finally lead her to freedom. She continued to sprint, but as she approached the edges, a loud siren blast across the area, coupled with sweeping white lights. Adrenalin poured into her blood stream as she frantically tried to locate the keypad to disable the force field, hyper aware that her chance was slipping away.

  Ironically, it was one of the search lights that alerted her to where it was, the silver of the pad glinting as the beam passed it. Fifty yards and she would be out. Forty. Thirty. Heart threatening to pound from her chest, Jillian practically leapt towards the pad, jumping from foot to foot with anxiety as the milliseconds it took for the field to come down felt like hours.

  It fizzled, and she leapt like a lion pouncing on prey away from the walls of the prison, leaving the shouts and sirens behind her, running like she had never run before–a poker hot burn firing in her lungs as she sprinted towards the surrounding forest.

  Faron had alerted two of the strongest members of his tribe and brought them to the place where the oddly compelling human female had been held captive. He had almost laughed out loud when he caught her racing from the ugly building–this woman had fight, and he liked it. The trio was startled by the wailing from the sirens and the harshness of the search lights, and from his position high in the tree, he saw men running, pointing, and shouting at each other.

  He knew they were looking for the woman, understood that she had escaped somehow. As the men spilled out towards the forest, he turned to his companions.

  “Stop them,” he commanded in his native tongue. Without hesitation, the three cat-people slunk down from the branches and in two agile strides were before the men, bringing them to a hesitant halt. From standing, Faron and his men sprang into the air–landing with such force onto the front few guards that they sunk to the ground immediately. One of the cat-people took a swipe across his opponent’s face–opening a red, oozing gash. Faron leapt onto two others, knocking them like dominoes. The remaining guards raised their guns at the aliens, hands shaking. Pouncing on the weapons and knocking them out of reach, the humans raised their hands in surrender.

  Faron instructed his men to keep them there, without harming them, and then raced back into the trees to find the female.

  Jillian carried on sprinting until her knees gave way. By this point, she was deep into the woods. The spiky, scarlet trees of planet Zeta Prime surrounded her on all sides. Leaning against one of their twisted cord-like trunks, she sucked in air as quietly as her desperation for oxygen would allow, and tilted her head to listen. The long, elegant tendrils hanging from the branches hushed in the breeze of the cool night, but their swaying was the only sound Jillian heard, and her heart rate finally started to slow–confident that they hadn’t been able to follow her out here.

  Out here. All alone. In the dark, red woods of a planet she had called home for just a year. Jillian moved forward into the thicket, much more tentatively than she entered it. Cautious now, she thought of the natives that inhabited the strange-colored wilderness. Since arriving from Earth, she had come across Zeta Prime natives just a couple of times, but that had been at a distance, whilst she had plenty of other humans around her. They had sleek, feline qualities–ears small, slightly pointed and high on either side of their heads, and large, almond-shaped eyes that glowed amber.

  They generally stayed clear of the colonies of humans, keeping to their own areas and their primitive lives. However, there had been talk of a few who had been opposed to the permanent visitors to their planet, and confronted Jillian’s people. They were strong–all muscle and lithe sinew, and those that had attacked had been vicious and brutal in doing so. She pushed the memory of the horror stories to the back of her mind.

  Not entirely sure where she was headed, she supposed she ought to search around for somewhere to stop for the night, she might as well attempt some rest before trying to figure out her next plan of action. On the lookout for a tree large enough to provide shelter, she stopped abruptly at an unfamiliar sound. The whispers of the tree tendrils were rhythmic and soft–the noise that had just alerted her was much sharper, like a tree branch snapping.

  She held her breath nervously, worried about what may be out there and fervently hoping it was an animal or one of the peculiar green winged bird-like creatures indigenous to the world. Without further warning, a tall, muscular native sprang into her path. He landed gently on the balls of his feet and stood slowly, unfurling his body to reveal rippling muscles beneath velvet brown skin. He was at least three feet taller than Jillian and his thighs were as thick as one of the trunks of the trees he stood in the midst of.

  He stared at her for a moment, his huge eyes shining a spectrum of yellow and orange, and in that instant, she kicked off with her back foot and attempted to flee. He pounced before she landed one step, and with deft movements, he knotted a rough material around her wrists, binding her hands together tightly. As soon as she was captured, Jillian knew that a struggle would be pointless, he had so much power–all she could do was accept her fate for now. Although inside she was screaming in terror, she refused to show this creature her fear.

  The native stood with his back to her then looped her arms over his neck and she was lifted from the ground. Lifting her ankles, he wrapped her slender legs around his waist, tying her ankles in front of
him with the same rope-like material and just as tightly as her hands. She was completely unable to move, bound now to her captor like a koala bear. She screwed her eyes up as he jumped, scaling the tree with ease. Climbing nearly to the top, he then leapt onto one of the hanging tendrils, swinging gracefully and latching onto one on the next tree. The movements were smooth and should have felt quite exhilarating to her, almost like flying–if it weren’t for a cold, debilitating dread pulsing through her. She had no idea what to expect from this–no way of assuming a possible outcome. She spoke the language–it was a requirement of all colonists, and had some study on the natives before moving from Earth, so she knew that the natives had little to no technologies and very basic lifestyles, but she had also learnt of their strength and agility, and thusly their potential danger. Without meaning to but unable to help it, she began to reflect on her life. Realistically she doubted whether she would survive this experience and the morose thought highlighted every past happiness and regret.

  She had felt certain that Zeta Prime would hold a positive future for her. After moving quickly through military ranks in the army on Earth, she had been headhunted for a private security firm shortly after making lieutenant. The excitement of a new job had lured her in, and she’d accepted the job offer with a firm whose main contractor employed security for star port construction on many other worlds. Jillian had been sure that this would be a great new Chapter for her–the money was good, the work steady. She nearly laughed at reminiscing over her romantic notions of finding a partner, settling down. Now she was soaring through trees, a prisoner for the second time that day, possibly to provide food for a bunch of hostile inhabitants on a planet she was not welcome on.

  Ricocheting off of the bony spine of the native as he glided through the trees, the pain from her bound limbs started to burn and brought her mind back to the present. They must have been travelling for nearly an hour and her need to be able to stretch out was almost unbearable. She had no clue as to where they were. It was too dark to see anything, and she had no concept of whether they had been travelling North or South. There was no way even advanced tracking technology could find her out here.

  Chapter Three

  Suddenly, she felt the sensation of descent as they made their way toward the ground at alarming speed. He landed low, knees bent and hands on the floor as her body crushed uncomfortably against his back for the last time. He whipped off the ties holding her to him and she crumpled to the dusty floor once she was released–her legs cramped and knotted from being in such an awkward position for so long. Despite being too weak to do anything more than lie helplessly in the dirt, she looked him right in the eye, maintaining her determination to show no weaknesses. Her look turned to surprise as the male ran his silken hands over her sore legs and penetrated the aching muscles, massaging them to delicious relief.

  He looked at her intently as he probed her with his healing long fingers. Flecks of green sparked in his giant irises as he absorbed her coiled raven hair and delicate curved nose, but no emotion showed on his face. He knew instinctively when the feeling had returned to her limbs, and as he stretched up from his crouched stance, he pulled her to her feet. Those helpful hands now on her elbow–pinning her to the spot.

  Jillian tore her eyes from him to take in her surroundings. The place was bizarre–like a photo of a medieval village she had once seen at school when she was still on Earth–many, many centuries before the migration of humans to other planets or even space travel. Crude wooden poles with old-fashioned flames atop of them spread orbs of warm light onto the space. There was a smattering of small, hut-like dwellings, sporadically dotted around in the small clearing. The light made the red dirt look as if the floor were molten lava. The whole scene was pre-historic and foreign to her.

  She was led to the nearest hut. It was made from lumpy rocks and crumbling red mud–a far cry from the pristine, smooth chrome of her usual living quarters. The alien led her inside and she was pleasantly surprised at its coziness. It smelt slightly earthy, the floor being compacted dirt, but was neat and well kept.

  The room was a circular shape with a rectangle door and a few piles of fur lying on the ground. In the middle, a small fire lit up the hut with a warm flicker, smoke twisting up to the hole in the roof that fashioned as a chimney. The warmth washed over her and she suddenly felt tired, drained from her exhausting day. He picked up her wrist and attached it to a cuff on a length of chain which was attached to the wall. Her wrist was limp as he lifted it, all spark gone from her–she was spent. The cuff was not tight and the chain was long, allowing her relatively wide freedom of movement.

  For the first time, her captor opened his mouth to communicate with her. The language seemed to match the physique of the creatures. Rounded tones and high-pitched vowel sounds flowed from his lips.

  “You will come to no harm here, with us. We just need to be cautious, for now,” he said, referring to the chains.

  Jillian hadn’t spoken or heard the Zeta Prime language for a long time—not since she’d studied the language before leaving Earth—but she had been a good student, and remembered much of what she’d learnt. She looked at those eyes again, so huge and colorful, but she wasn’t sure whether she could trust him, despite his assurances. He had been kind so far, but being uncertain as to why she’d been brought here, she decided not to let on that she understood his words. This way, she thought she may be able to secretly glean honest information.

  Faron waited patiently for her to respond. He knew she would understand his language. Faron and his tribe were watchers, and they had seen many of her kind speak the native tongue when they first arrived. Some of the new arrivals had practiced conversation with another tribe, which he and his men had found amusing at first. In exchange, they had also taught that tribe some of their language–odd, pointy sounds. Purely through this monitoring, he had learnt that all the visitors on his planet had been taught how to communicate with them, and he was perturbed by her silence.

  He was confused by her ways, not getting why she was not grateful for being rescued and started to verge on irritated. Deciding that maybe she needed to rest, he slunk out of the hut to give her some time.

  Jillian dropped to the floor, sitting on one of the fur piles which proved gloriously soft on her bruised body. She could not believe the day she had just had. Moving to Zeta Prime was going to be the turning point in her life, the time when she’d finally settle. Being settled had always been her long term goal. Having grown up in various foster homes as a child, all she’d ever dreamed was for stability, security and stillness. She had truly believed that she was moving close to her dream and now look at her. She was a fugitive, believed to be a criminal amongst her own people and a prisoner to an alien species.

  Leaning over, Jillian could see the clearing through the open doorway. Although they were vague shadows, she saw movements from inside a couple of the other huts–shadows moving across the walls. The way the aliens moved was really incredible to watch, it was clear to her now why the humans had nicknamed them ‘Cat Men.’ They stalked rather than moved, stealthy and liquid. In the furthest corner from her dwelling, she saw a hut that was larger than all the others.

  Her eyelids grew heavy as her body relaxed, she was comfortable at least. As she stared trance-like into the hypnotic flames, her imposing captor’s unusual face appeared in her mind’s eye. It was sort of, majestic in a way–like a lion. Strong and captivating.

  Across the wind, that unique language floated. She could not make out the words, but could hear the urgency of many natives talking all at once. Whatever the topic, it sounded like an important one, and she wondered if they may have been arguing about her presence.

  In the communal hut, Faron consulted with some of the others in the tribe. Some of the men were in an uproar at the new arrival.

  “How could you bring her here?”

  “What if they followed you?”

  “Will they attack our homes?”

  F
aron stood at the head of a carved wooden table and the males stopped talking as their leader raised his arms.

  “There is no way that I was followed. We have watched these invaders for many years and I have become familiar with some of their ways. This woman was in trouble–of that I am certain. I am also certain that she is of good heart. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Their weapons would have taken her life if we hadn’t intervened.”

  “So, why have you chained her in the prison hut? Is she a threat?” One of the clan members demanded.

  “I have chained her so she doesn’t flee. She is not familiar with us and may be scared. I’ve seen how instinctive she is. Her escaping without her knowing us may mean that she leads them here, yes, though that’s not my greatest fear. The chances are, if she runs, she will come across the many dangers in our wilderness and not survive.” He spoke authoritatively.

  The men appeared appeased and trusted Faron’s words. He had chosen to omit the fact that he found her strangely beautiful. The delightful way her body curved. Her petite stature. He did not want to disclose that he had a desire to learn about her, to be close to her unusual scent. All this, he kept to himself for the time being.

  * * * *

  Jillian considered what the man had told her–that she would come to no harm–she pondered as to his reason for her capture and why he had led her straight to his people. Deciding that she would have to try and keep her wits about her until she had it worked out, she formed a few conclusions. The most logical, to her, being that they had taken her as hostage, possibly as some kind of bartering tool–obviously not being privy to the information that her own kind would most definitely not want her back, thinking as they did that she had left them abandoned on this planet, some of them too old now to ever see home again.