by Zara Zenia
"You cannot do that," he said.
"Why not?" Jewel demanded, yelling across the water at him.
"Because fire is dangerous," the Curator replied like he was talking to a child.
"I know that!" Jewel snapped. "But I need it! For heat and for cooking!"
"The temperature in this habitat has been specifically calibrated to remain comfortable for you," the Curator said calmly. "And food will be provided."
"Fuck you!" Jewel shouted at him. The Curator stared at her silently for a moment, then he turned around and left again. Jewel screamed in frustration.
She set herself to starting as many fires as she could, with surprising success considering the lack of resources. She set them up along the wall behind the river where the window was, and as each one sparked and was drowned by the instant rain, she just moved stubbornly on to the next one.
Eventually, the door opened again and the Curator appeared, looking even more annoyed than before.
"I am going to need you to stop doing that," he said.
"Sure," Jewel agreed, standing up and stomping over to stand in front of him. "Take me home and I'll stop."
"I cannot do that," the Curator replied. "But I can make it rain continuously in here. I assume that would not be enjoyable for you?"
She glared up at him hatefully while he stared down, still just looking mildly aggravated.
"Fine," she said. "Then I'll just get sick and die. So much for your fancy exhibit."
He didn't have eyebrows, but she saw his eye twitch in annoyance and knew she had him.
"In fact, maybe I'll just throw myself in the river right now," she declared. "And don't bother sending any more food. I won't be eating it. If you don't take me home, I will find any way I can to hurt myself until you do."
"It looks like you are already doing that," the Curator said with a frown, noticing the state of her bloody, blistered hands.
He reached for her, catching her by surprise, and she pulled away immediately, frowning. He huffed.
"I would like to see your hand," he said. "So I can determine if you need medical assistance."
"I'm fine," Jewel declared. "There'll be a lot worse than this if you don't take me home.”
The Curator rolled his eyes and snatched her hand suddenly, yanking her closer. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong, barely budging as she yanked. She gave up, glaring at him sullenly as he examined her palm. She couldn't help a shiver as he drew a finger gently over the tender skin.
"This biome is full of bacteria," he said after a moment, still looking at her hand. "This will need to be sterilized."
He reached into his robe, pulling out another sedative patch, and Jewel shouted, trying to pull away. He only dragged her closer, his inhumanly handsome face inches from hers.
"For Christ's sake, I'm not an animal!" she said, a note of real panic in her voice.
He paused. She stared back at him, breathing heavily as he looked into her eyes. She wished she could tell what he was thinking behind those mesmerizing golden eyes.
"You do not like being sedated," the Curator said after a moment. "Will you behave if I allow you to walk to the med bay with me?"
"All right." Jewel gave in at once, just glad she wasn’t going to be knocked out again. He wanted to bandage her hands, and he was going to do it whether she cooperated or not. At least this way, she'd be able to see more outside of her habitat. She might be able to spot a way out of here.
"Very well." The Curator stepped back and opened the panel door, gesturing for her to go through first. She obeyed reluctantly, eyeing the stadium full of modules again as she emerged. So this was a zoo, and these were all aliens. She still couldn't quite get her mind around it.
"This way," the Curator said, putting a hand on her back to guide her into the slightly downsloping center of the room. He touched something on his tablet as they stepped into the center, and Jewel yelped as a current of air caught them both and carried them away at a ridiculous speed. She grabbed for the Curator, clinging to him out of shocked surprise as they were swept along. He seemed unconcerned, staying upright effortlessly as they rushed past endless rows of animal habitats.
Then suddenly, they were out of the stadium and passing through a series of brightly lit white hallways, all made of a kind of seamless, slightly translucent white plastic. At last, the air current slowly tapered off, depositing them in front of a door that was appropriately sized for the alien standing next to Jewel. He resumed walking without missing a step as Jewel stumbled, struggling to get her breath back. The Curator looked down at the bloody handprints she'd left on his robes with a scowl.
"Come along," he said impatiently and waved her forward as soon as she'd recovered enough to walk.
He led her into the same sterile room with the stark white table she'd been in before. She grimaced, lingering near the door.
"Is something wrong?" the Curator asked, turning back to look at her.
She shook her head.
"I'm just not a fan of this room," she replied tersely. "My last couple of visits here weren't exactly enjoyable."
"Well that is hardly because of the room itself," he replied, clearly not understanding. Jewel huffed but forced herself further into the room. Once he saw she was coming, he turned toward a panel in the wall. She could see the symbols on it changing, scrolling through data in an alien script, though he didn't touch it or say anything. A moment later, a space opened in the wall beside the panel and a small bottle appeared along with what looked like a roll of bandages.
She sat down on the edge of the white table as he returned to her with the medicine. The more she watched him, the more surprisingly human he appeared to her. At first glance, all she noticed were the differences—the bright color of his skin, sapphire blue with stark white stripes and striations across his cheeks, the smooth, tapered tentacles in place of hair, just a shade darker than his skin, the ends of which curled over his broad shoulders. There was a stripe of nearly neon blue down the center of each tendril, reminding her of garden lizards she'd chased as a child. But once you were past the dramatic inhuman aspects, they were actually quite similar. He was obscenely tall and built broader and more solidly than most humans, but he had the average distribution of arms and legs. His hands were broad and strong with long, articulate fingers. His facial features were very human, even with their tattoo-like decoration of white stripes.
A high seat materialized next to the table without prompting, and the Curator sat down, taking her hand. The bottle had an aerosol nozzle, and he sprayed it over the abrasions on her hands. She hissed at the sting, like iodine, and pulled away, but he pulled her back impatiently. She frowned as he began winding the bandage around her palms.
"Everything here is so advanced," she commented. "I would have thought y'all would have something fancier than bandages."
"These are strips of hypoallergenic synthetic skin specifically calibrated to your physiology to protect the wound and speed healing while also being maximally durable," the Curator replied without looking up from her hand. "They are more than 'fancy' enough. The computer chose this particular method based on your file for the sake of your comfort. In the hopes, I assume, that if they were familiar, you would not attempt to chew them off."
"No promises," Jewel said with a scoff, rolling her eyes.
He was very close to her as he bent over her hand, close enough for her to feel the slight coolness of his skin just an inch away. She took the opportunity to examine him more closely. His eyes were high and narrow, his proud nose smoothing at the bridge into the epicanthic fold. His irises really were gold. Not yellow or tawny like an animal, but genuinely glittering and slightly metallic as soft, hammered gold, striking against the pitch black of his sclera. It was hard not to get lost staring into them. He had no lashes or eyebrows, no body hair at all, as far as she could tell.
Though the jagged, almost lightning bolt-shaped stripes on his brow bone almost resembled eyebrows, giving him a l
ook of permanent aggravation. His mouth was broad and set as stubbornly firm as his square jaw. His fingers were surprisingly gentle, working carefully and quickly as he bandaged her blistered palms, his cool fingers grazing her skin. She peered closer curiously, glimpsing something on his throat under the stiff high collar of his robe.
"Are those gills?" she asked, fascinated. He sat up quickly, pulling away as though offended.
"That is hardly any business of yours," he declared, fussing with his collar to pull it higher.
"What?" Jewel huffed. "You probably know everything about my body, thanks to your files, but I can't even ask about your gills?"
"No," he said. "You cannot. Now hold still and let me finish this."
Jewel scowled but he ignored her, going back to work on her hands, finishing with the left and switching to the right.
"What am I talking about?" Jewel muttered. "You probably haven't even looked at my file. Why would you care? I'm just a zoo animal."
"For your information, I have read your file multiple times," he corrected her. "The computer is still processing the information gathered about your planet and species, but I have read what it has collected so far."
"Really?" Jewel was surprised. He hadn't seemed interested.
"It became quite apparent after your first escape attempt that you were not a simple animal," he explained. "I was attempting to ascertain exactly what you were. The fact that I had to stop repeatedly to deal with your continued escape attempts did not make that easy."
"Well, maybe you should have tried talking to me," Jewel pointed out. "I thought I was being kidnapped. Of course I tried to escape. I mean, I pretty much am being kidnapped, but still."
"Oh, yes, I am sure talking would have worked wonderfully," he said in unmistakable sarcasm. Then he looked up at her and said something in his own language, a strange low purring statement that when combined with his intense golden stare, it made goosebumps rise on Jewel's arms.
"We could have figured something out," Jewel said defensively.
"You hit me with a stick the first time you saw me," he countered. Jewel felt her face heat with embarrassment.
"I was scared, okay?" she said. "I didn't know what was going on. I still don't know what's going on."
He finished with her hand and let her go, and she flexed her fingers, testing the bandage. She was surprised how little it affected her movement. It was as tight as a second skin but she could hardly feel it.
The Curator stood up, putting the bottle and the remains of the roll of bandages back in the alcove by the wall panel, which closed over them.
"So what's going to happen to me?" she asked him, serious now. "Really. Why won't you take me home?"
He looked at her for a moment, considering.
"Because you will be of far greater scientific value here," he said at last. "I intend to present you to the Council of Ra'hom as evidence of other intelligent life in the universe. If it is not obvious, I will need you to be there in order to prove your abilities to the Council. The discovery of the first intelligent species will revolutionize our understanding of the universe."
"Can't you just tell them and have them come to Earth?" Jewel asked. "Why does it have to be me?"
"The Council would not fly halfway across the universe to investigate the possible findings of a single scientist," the Curator explained. "I could send them the Diviner's files, but their veracity would be debated for the next century without a live specimen. I would be ordered to bring you before them anyway. Now stand up. I should return you to your habitat."
"I'm an intelligent being," Jewel argued, not getting up. "My consent should matter in this. I don't want to be a damn zoo exhibit. I want to go home."
"The issue is too critically important to be hampered by the worries of an individual," he said coolly. "The future of two species is at stake. Even if I wanted to take you home, which would make me an idiot of monumental proportions, I would never get approval to do so. And I would need significant approval to alter the course of the Diviner that way. I have not even been allowed to alter course to take you directly to the home world. The Diviner is going to complete its current mission and return on schedule."
"How long is that going to take?" Jewel asked, startled.
He said something in his own language, and when she only stared at him, he sighed and pulled a tablet from his robe, glancing over it for a moment.
"According to the files," he said, "it is roughly six months."
Chapter 5
"Six months?" Jewel shouted. "I can't wait around here that long! Christ, everyone back home is going to think I'm dead! I'll lose my job. They'll probably sell my damn house!"
The Curator just stared at her, apparently unaffected by her distress.
"You have to find a way to get me home sooner than that!" she insisted. "I'll meet your damn council or whatever, but I need to go home while there's still something to go back to!"
"You do not understand how space travel works," the Curator said, as though it was a mildly interesting observation. "We will reach the Council in six months. The Council may decide to return you home at that point and no sooner."
"But that's wrong!" Jewel demanded. "Does your species not understand compassion? How would you feel if someone snatched you out of your home, held you against your will, and told you they might return you in six months? That's not acceptable!"
"Interesting," the Curator declared. "I will add your feelings on the matter to your file. Now it is time to go back to your habitat."
"I do not want to go back to the damn habitat!" Jewel shouted, losing her temper. She stood up, ready to fight. She didn't care if he was bigger than her. She'd kicked the asses of plenty of people bigger than her and she would again.
"I cannot allow you to wander the ship on your own," the Curator said, reaching into his sleeve for one of the sedative patches. "It would not be safe."
"You are not knocking me out again!" Jewel shouted, and when he stepped forward to reach for her with the patch, she ducked and darted forward, hitting him low in his center of gravity, wrapping her arms around him and falling back in a somewhat sloppy suplex. She'd done cleaner takedowns before, but with the size difference, all she cared about was dropping him. He hit the ground with a tremendous crash, and she rolled onto her feet as quickly as possible, sprinting through the door. This place was big enough that she was confident she could lose him.
She was only a few feet down the strangely bare white hall when she heard a snarl and the sound of heavy footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him bearing down on her with shocking speed. His teeth were bared and unexpectedly sharp, his normally cool, aloof expression suddenly furious. Bright blue blood was dripping from a gash on his forehead. She felt her heart skip a beat in fear and exhilaration as she put on speed, racing down the corridor. She was afraid to try any of the doors, worried they would lead to dead ends, which left her with only one direction to go. And he was definitely faster than her, gaining rapidly.
She shouted a string of curses and crashed through the closest door, heart soaring as she saw another door on the opposite side of the room. She didn't even take notice of what was in the room as she barreled through it, grabbing some ambiguous piece of furniture and hurling it behind her to slow down her pursuer. She heard him make an animal noise of frustration, and the furniture, whatever it had been, exploded into sticks against the door frame just as Jewel raced through it.
"This is stupid!" he roared at her.
"You're stupid!" she shouted back, sliding over a table which she heard him tear straight through. The towers of assembled tablets that had been stacked on it scattered everywhere like playing cards.
"You cannot get away from me! There is nowhere to go!"
"Fuck you!"
The frustrated snarl was louder this time. She laughed wildly, suicidally thrilled at how effectively she was pissing him off. The next door was strangely dark, and she didn't realize until she w
as running through it that the reason it was so black was because it was covered in something. A thin, black latex like substance filled the doorway as though it had been covered by a tarp. It resisted her at first, like running in water, then it gave with a snap, sticking to her skin and covering her face. She tried to shout, to claw it away, but it wouldn't come off. Instead, it was spreading, covering her entirely. She could feel it moving over her skin, cool and strange.
The part over her face suddenly lifted away, hardening and turning transparent like the smooth face of a motorcycle helmet. She realized she could breathe, and looking down, she saw that the black substance now covered her entirely, tight to the skin like a catsuit. While she was staring at it in confusion, she'd stopped running. She looked up, hearing another snap, and saw the Curator striding toward her through the black substance over the doorway, which was conforming to his shape with incredible speed, highlighting every muscle of his surprisingly familiar and aesthetically pleasing torso as he dropped his robes to the side. It formed a similar helmet to hers, the front turning clear to reveal his face. He looked pissed.
"Stop this, now!" he barked.
Jewel cursed and started running again, barreling through the closest door, which slid away at her touch. She realized why the weird suit creating door was necessary as soon as she stepped through.
She was suddenly standing on the surface of an alien planet. Translucent white sawgrass was waving against her thighs and an unfamiliar sun shone in the eggshell sky, silver as though she was looking at it from under the water. Amazed as she was, she knew she couldn't stop running, so she ran, sprinting across the pale world, leaping through the high ghostly grass.
She heard the Curator running after her, shouting at her. She ignored him, lungs burning as she strained to run faster. Suddenly, something burst from the grass beside her, making her stumble. It was the size of a horse but shaped more like a deer. Its four delicate legs extended fully as it leaped, its long scorpion-like tail whipping in the air behind it. At the peak of its arc, its white hide caught the sunlight and glittered, iridescent as a dragonfly’s wing. More erupted from the grass on the other side of her, alerted by the high fluted call of the first. She was soon running among an entire herd of them. They didn't seem aggressive, just startled by her presence.