by J. M. Page
“What—” Bain said, but he didn’t finish the sentence. The same thought was running through Lina’s head as she blinked and squinted at the bright lights.
Where were they? What had happened?
The hair-raising sound of metal scraping on metal, being bent and twisted apart filled the ship and they both instinctively covered their ears and tried to move away from the sound. But it was coming from everywhere, like some giant clawed creature was literally tearing the ship to shreds.
Bain shielded her with his body, both of them still covering their ears, crouched down as the panels of the ceiling started to peel away.
Her heart thundered in her throat, every second stretching out for an unbearably long time with the heavy uncertainty. She’d thought they were crashing, but this didn’t seem like any kind of crash she could imagine. It seemed more like they were on some other ship… But who would capture their ship?
Her hand went to Bain’s forearm and squeezed, every drop of her blood turning to ice with the realization of who — or what, she didn’t know the proper term — was trying to force its way into the ship.
He turned, his eyes wide with a question.
“It’s—” she started to say, but she never got the chance to finish as the ceiling tore back like the lid on a can of sardines and two bulky bodies dropped in through the hole.
Bain instantly went rigid, every muscle tensing in his body. Lina almost didn’t want to look around him to see, but she had to.
Crowding in their ship, there were two creatures. Both were nearly twice Lina’s height and width, with mottled gray skin and bulging muscles. They had a shiny appearance, like a sheen of sweat clung to them and their fat, square heads were bald. Their eyes were set on the sides of their head, but they still seemed to be looking straight ahead somehow and each of them sported a long gash of a mouth from one side of their head to the other.
The Fibbuns.
Fear, raw and primal, slithered down her spine and coiled in her stomach, leaving a cold and slimy trail inside her.
Their appearance was terrifying enough, with their broad shoulders filling the entire cabin and their heads barely able to fit inside without sticking out of the hole they’d made in the ceiling. But it wasn’t just the looks of them that terrified Lina. It was the massive guns they held that sent true fear all the way to her toes.
Bain kept her shielded even when she tried to step to his side to face the monsters. He held out an arm to stop her.
“Who are you and what gives you the right to destroy my ship and capture me and my companion?” Bain barked, regality dripping from his demanding tone.
The Fibbuns spoke to each other in a garbled language before one of them pushed Bain aside and snatched Lina around the waist, hauling her up out of the ship.
“Lina!” Bain cried, scrambling back up.
“Bain!” she screamed, kicking and hitting her captor with all her might. But none of it seemed to affect him. Her blows bothered him about as much as a gentle breeze did her. “Let me go, you monster!”
But the Fibbun ignored her and bent its knees before making a giant leap through the hole in the ceiling.
“You can’t take her. LINA!” Bain cried again. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear the struggles of him and the other Fibbun fighting. Then a flash of light and the sound of a weapon discharging. Then nothing.
“BAIN!”
Chapter Eighteen
Lina wailed at the top of her lungs, still fighting against the hulking brute. He might as well have been cast out of bronze for all he bent for her. The sounds from inside the ship had stopped and Lina couldn’t bring herself to imagine the worst. Bain was still down there. He was fine. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. She just needed to get away from this beast to see him. To make sure he was okay.
But the Fibbun guard dragged her away from the ship, through a brightly-lit receiving bay on a quietly-humming ship. Any other time, she’d be marveling at the technology around her, at the inner workings of this ship and the sheer magnitude of it. But not this time.
“Let me go!” she screeched. This time, she was trying to keep her head about her. While panic made her mind blank, it paved the way for constant worries about Bain to crop up to the surface. The huge Fibbun dragged her through the ship, slung over his shoulder and no matter how she craned her neck to look, she couldn’t see the other leaving the ship. Or Bain. What was happening in there? He had to still be alive. To still be fighting. Right?
“Where are you taking me?” Maybe if she could get the guy talking, she could get him to give her news on Bain’s condition. Maybe he’d tell her that Bain was hurt, but being treated. Or maybe he wasn’t hurt at all. The Fibbun remained silent.
She couldn’t bear to think about the other possibility. But with all her energy focused behind her, Lina forgot to worry about what was ahead of her. The alien monster smacked his slimy palm on a nearby wall and a door slid open silently, opening to a sterile white room with a clear tube in the middle, like a shower stall.
He deposited her on the floor after the door slid closed and Lina hugged herself, realizing they were alone in this strange, unsettling room.
“Please, I don’t know what you want, but I can’t help you. Just let me and my friend go. We won’t cause you any trouble.” It was probably ridiculous to try to reason with him after the horrifying tales she’d heard, but she had to try. She couldn’t just give up. Not with Bain missing and possibly hurt.
The Fibbun still ignored her, typing something into a computer set into the wall. A hatch opened, and a pile of cloth was dropped from a slot in the wall onto a nearby table. He picked up the cloth and thrust it at Lina.
At first, she frowned at it, not sure what it was or what he wanted. He grunted and waved it at her again, looking angrier. The big weapon was strapped to his back now and the black metal didn’t even shine in the bright overhead lights. It seemed to suck all the light in, trapping it there. She didn’t want to find out how much a shot from that thing could hurt.
So, she took the cloth, and after unfolding it, discovered it was a plain sheath, not unlike a hospital gown, but with perhaps more coverage. Lina had only ever been to a hospital once when Mom fell and broke her leg. She’d hidden Lina in her pocket as the ambulance carted her away. They’d stayed there for three days and whenever the nurses came in to take Mom to her tests, Lina had to hide in a drawer or a flower bouquet. Mom had complained nonstop about the indignity of the hospital gown and Lina had silently been thankful she’d never have to wear one.
This place certainly didn’t seem like a hospital, but she was sure she’d rather be in a hospital, wearing an open-backed gown than on an aggressive alien’s ship in something more modest. She eyed the garment carefully and then made the decision to not put it on.
“No, no. I’m fine. I’m not sick,” she said, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. She did not want to get undressed in front of this creature. Looking around the rest of the room didn’t give her many clues as to its purpose. There was no real furniture to speak of, but at least two other computers set into the wall with similar slats below. And the clear tube, of course.
What that tube could mean made her shudder. Was it a shower? A transport tube? A death trap? There were no clues, but Lina was sure if she put on the garment, he’d force her into it.
The Fibbun grunted at her again, scowling as he shoved the cloth in her hands into her chest.
She just shook her head. “I won’t do it. Not until you tell me what’s going on and where Bain is and if he’s—” She swallowed against the rising tide of tears. “And if he’s okay,” she finished, keeping her head held high. Not that it made much difference. Her head still only came to the middle of the Fibbun’s chest. He could probably snap her in half if he wanted.
With a grumble that sounded more than a little frustrated, the Fibbun typed something into the computer in the wall. Lina shrank back, hugging herself. What was he doing? Calling
for reinforcements?
The Fibbun leaned into the computer and grumbled a bunch of words that sounded like what he’d already said to her when he gave her the gown.
“Please comply with our quarantine procedures for the safety of the crew,” a clear, crisp voice rang out. Lina ducked down, startled by the voice speaking her own tongue.
“Q-quarantine?” she asked, ignoring how polite and friendly the voice in the computer sounded. It was a trick of some kind. A trick to get her to let her guard down, to get her to reveal the location of Mabnoa to them. But she wouldn’t. She’d die first.
“Please comply with our quarantine procedures for the safety of the crew,” the voice repeated as the Fibbun grunted again. He still glowered at her.
Lina frowned. “Can you understand anything I’m saying?” A blank stare answered her.
She took a hesitant step forward, looking at the keyboard. It was covered with foreign symbols that didn’t mean much to her, but on the screen, the translation program looked intuitive enough.
“Can… can I?” she asked him, tentatively reaching for the screen. The Fibbun grumbled something, but the computer didn’t translate it. He smacked her hand away.
Lina frowned and set the gown down on the floor, crossing her arms. “I’m not doing anything until we can talk,” she said, even stamping her foot for effect.
Even if he couldn’t understand her words, her body language told the Fibbun everything he needed to know: she was going to be difficult if she didn’t get something.
His voice came out in a growl as he muttered something and took a single — albeit huge — step away from the computer to let her access it.
Lina studied the machine like she would any other. Without being able to understand the input controls, it was more difficult than she’d have liked, but eventually she did something which she was pretty sure reversed the translation software.
The Fibbun shifted from one foot to the other, his gun now pulled in front of him like he expected her to try to steal the ship from him or something. Not that it was a bad idea. It was something she’d considered, but she’d seen very little of the place and for all she knew, this ship could house hundreds, if not thousands of Fibbuns. Trying to take it over was probably suicidal.
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered. “Why am I here?” She figured she should start out easy.
The computer spat out a bunch of grunts and grumbles.
The Fibbun’s forehead wrinkled and he stepped forward, typing something in before the computer said: “You are in Quarantine.”
“Why?”
“For the safety of the crew.”
“What about my friend?” Lina held her breath, her skin going cold and clammy as she prepared herself for the answer.
“He is also in Quarantine.”
A wave of relief washed over her, but she couldn’t be sure that was confirmation of his safety. “Is he alright?”
“He will recover from his injury.”
This time, she sighed, that knot of dread that had been coiling and tightening in her stomach finally unraveling. Bain was okay. He was alive.
“I want to see him.”
“No.” Now the Fibbun picked up her gown and shoved it into her arms again. “Change for the scanner,” the computer translated.
He pointed his gun at her now, seemingly tired of their conversation.
“I… Can I have some privacy?” she asked.
The computer translated what she said, but threw up an error on the last word, just repeating what she’d said. The Fibbun scowled and thrust the barrel of the gun at her.
“No more talking,” the translation said.
“Please,” she said, not knowing how to ask for privacy when their language didn’t seem to have a word for it. “Please, I need to change alone… for modesty?” Maybe their language had that word, at least.
He looked confused, but finally shook his head.
Lina blew out a heavy breath, her hands shaking as she unfolded the dress. “Can you… turn around at least?”
After a moment of staring at her like he wasn’t going to acknowledge her request, the Fibbun finally turned around, blocking the only door with his bulky frame.
Lina stripped as quickly as possible and tossed the sheath dress — made of a rough cotton-like material in a plain beige color — over her head, shivering as the cold air on her bare skin produced goosebumps up and down her body.
“O-okay,” she said through chattering teeth, her arms still wrapped around her waist.
The Fibbun turned long enough to look her over and then went to the computer. His fat fingers moved over the keyboard quickly and the glass tube in the middle of the room receded into the floor, leaving only a white ring in its place.
“Step into the circle,” the computer voice said. No pleases now. If he had been trying to trick her into thinking he was friendly, he’d given up the charade rather quickly.
Still, Lina couldn’t argue with him now. Bain was alive. He was okay. She couldn’t risk anything happening to her before she saw him again. Once they were together, they could find a way out of this.
So she stepped into the circle, and immediately the tube extended all the way to the ceiling, leaving her completely trapped.
The tube was big enough to fit a Fibbun in, so it wasn’t that it was crowded to Lina, but without a way out, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. At least it wasn’t dark.
A soft humming started, and then the air turned sweet, then metallic-tasting as a colorless gas flooded the tube. Blue light crackled along the outside of the tube and Lina shivered, not knowing what the machine was doing. He’d called it a scanner, but she’d seen for herself that the translations weren’t perfect. ‘Scanner’ could mean ‘gas chamber’ for all she knew.
But just as quickly as it started, it ended. The blue light went away, the air cleared, and the tube dropped down to let her out again.
The Fibbun picked her clothes up off the floor and thrust them toward her, already turning his back to block the door again.
Being back in her own clothes made her feel less exposed, at least, but the lack of information still had her mind running wild. “So… everything’s okay then?” she asked, but the computer translation didn’t come.
The guard turned his big, square head enough to look at her and then he opened the door, stepping out. He waited on the other side of the door, but Lina hesitated. Where was he taking her now? A prison cell? It seemed most likely. She shuddered. Maybe Bain would already be there. That would be enough to make it worth it.
“Where are we going?” she knew it was ridiculous to ask. He wasn’t going to answer her. And just as she expected, he grumbled and grabbed her by the wrist, his hand leaving a sticky, slimy ring around her arm. He yanked her through the door and stood behind her, the gun clearly aimed at her.
“Okay, okay,” she said. Fighting and struggling was only going to make him more annoyed with her. She’d have to just go along with whatever for a little while until she could come up with an escape plan.
“But I don’t know where we’re going. Leading the way is going to be pretty hard,” she said, taking three steps forward until there was a three-way split in the hallway. She looked back at her captor and he seemed to get the gist of what she was saying as she threw her arms up and looked all around.
Grumbling non-stop, he took her by the arm and steered her through a maze of corridors. She tried her best to remember the route they took, hoping she could find her way back to the receiving bay if necessary, but what good would that even do her? Their ship was toast. Disabled and useless now. Getting back to it wasn’t going to help her and it would be exactly what they’d expect her to do. They’d have no trouble finding her.
The long corridors further in the ship weren’t as clean and sterile as the quarantine area. Elsewhere, the ship was exposed metal and rusted rivets, the hallways sported drips and leaks and at least half of the air vents rattled and produced air that
was either way too warm or way too cold. She didn’t know what kind of climate these aliens lived in, but she didn’t need to to know that their ship needed some serious TLC. Maybe she could use that somehow. It was something to keep in mind.
Besides the poor state of the ship, Lina noticed the sheer magnitude. These hallways and corridors seemed never-ending, and they passed by dozens of doors on their trek. It was huge and had to have a massive crew. A veritable army. How would they ever be able to get away?
The Fibbun guard hauled her up a set of clanky metal stairs, the whole set rattling and groaning with each step. It seemed like it would give way any moment, but there were well-worn grooves into the steps that told the story of how often they were used. They had to be more solid than they seemed.
He brought his slimy, webbed fingers up to panel by a door and it slid open, getting stuck half-way until he shoved on it and it retreated the rest of the way into the wall. Once they were in the room, the door slowly hobbled closed.
Lina turned her attention away from the door. “Bain!” she cried, trying to pull from the Fibbun’s grip. Bain was standing next to a guard of his own — or, rather, being propped up by his guard. His shirt was gone, his chest and torso bare except for the wide band of gauze wrapping around his entire rib cage.
Lina’s own guard didn’t give her an inch, hauling her back towards him before making his way forward.
“Lina,” Bain said, his eyes not quite fully focused. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, but it wasn’t his normal perfunctory nod; his head seemed to be out of his control, his chin dropping down to his chest before his neck bent back and he was practically looking at the ceiling. “Yeah,” he said, his voice not as crisp as she was used to. “Great, actually.” Now he was slurring.
Lina narrowed her eyes, suspicion rising. “Are you in any pain?”
“Psh.” He waved her off, almost falling forward as his arm threw him off-balance. His guard kept a firm hold of him, so he didn’t fall. “Not at all. Never better.”