Chapter 9

9

- Maeve -

Arelion pulls aside a heavy, wine-red drape, revealing a door behind it. It slides up, and behind there's a short hallway.

"A comfortable hauler," he comments. "There are several cabins, and not just one big room for the crew."

I wrinkle my nose. "Doesn't smell that good."

He opens one door, and the light comes on in that cabin. "I imagine garbage freighters rarely do. This must be the captain's quarters."

The cabin is unpleasantly lit in sharp green, and I can't identify anything like a bed. There's a big metal contraption by one wall, and it looks most of all like some kind of hellish climbing toy from a Hieronymus Bosch painting.

"Ah, the captain was a Zrop," Arelion says. "They sleep on frames like that. It won't be much use to us, and I advise against looking in the bathroom of this cabin. It might disturb you."

We close the door and try the next one. "And here lived a Rupu," Arelion sighs. "They sleep hanging on the wall."

There is indeed some kind of weird rack mounted on the wall, all black spirals and loops. My brain can't figure out how any creature would have to look to be able to hang there, so I look away. "And the bathroom here is just as bad, I suppose?"

Arelion closes the door. "Rupus don't use bathrooms. I once made the mistake of asking why. I recommend you don't."

"I won't. And here?" I open the third door along. Inside is a normal cabin, with normal light and a seemingly normal bunk along one wall. There are shelves on the wall, a regular-looking closet and even some decor that looks kind of feminine to me. "You don't think an Earth girl lived here?"

"I don't," Arelion tells me, opening drawers and checking the room. "A female, maybe. But nobody would set an Earth female to work in a garbage hauler. That would be a crazy waste of the price they'd paid for her. It must have been another species, with a somewhat similar number of arms and legs and heads."

"Should I check the bathroom here?" I push the door open and stand back, expecting to meet horrors.

"It should be a normal one," Arelion says and looks out a small porthole.

It is, if any alien bathroom can ever be said to be normal. It works for what I need, anyway, and I return to the cabin feeling refreshingly clean.

Arelion is lying on the bed, hands under his head.

"What's it like to sleep on those wings?" I ask. "Is it like lying on a mattress?"

"Somewhat," he drawls. "Come and try it." He extends one wing beside him. "But go easy on the elbow punches."

I carefully lie down beside him, gently letting my weight rest on the wing. It's warm and comfortable, but thick with muscle. His scent is wonderful.

"It's soft."

He adjusts the wing, folding it over my front. "That's better."

It feels like a hyper intimate act, as if he's letting me in way past his personal boundaries and accepting me as close to him as it's possible to get. He's an alien with violent tendencies and really weird friends, a narcissist who just a little while ago was threatening to kill me. And yet I've never felt safer.

We lie still for a while. The only sounds are our breathing and the muted clatter and scraping from the straining engines. I feel my heart rate dropping fast, and my eyelids are getting heavy as I relax into him.

"Arelion."

"Maeve?"

I stifle a yawn. "I really liked what you did. Back in the greenhouse. You didn't hurt me in any way. I just want you to know it."

"I liked it, too." His voice makes my whole body tremble.

"I want to do something nice for you, too."

He chuckles, making me bounce softly on his wing. "And I'm sure you will."

The next thing I know, an alarm is blaring and Alerion bounces up from the bed.

I'm wide awake again. "What's that?"

"I don't know," he says tightly, looking out the porthole. "We're not in hyperspace anymore. But that's far too early."

I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. "How long was I asleep?"

"A while," he says as he leaves the cabin.

"That's how it feels," I mutter and get to my feet.

Outside the cabin I meet Bari.

"We're under attack," the furry robot yips. "They pulled the ship right out of hyperspace. That's not great news."

"Why?"

"Because it's hard to do. Only large navies and especially war-like civilizations have that kind of technology."

A coldness spreads in me. "Like, say, the Bululg?"

Bari trots ahead of me towards the front of the ship. "Like the Bululg."

The cockpit looks old and primitive, even to my Earthling eyes. Everything is worn and shabby, some things are held together with tape, and some are plainly just missing.

Arelion is in the pilot's seat, concentrating on flying the ship, while the cylindrical robot Cerak is standing beside him.

"I recommend strapping in," Arelion says, throwing a glance at me. "This ship is unarmed, and we're being attacked. Taking evasive action is all we can do."

I sit down in a seat by the wall and try to figure out the seatbelt.

"No, it's the other way around," Bari says, looking up at me. "That strap goes there. Yes, good."

The ship shakes, and I don't feel safe even strapped in. The sound from the engines is even more strained now, and I don't like the other noises that are coming through.

" Trash hauler seven seven nine, you are ordered to stop your engines and prepare to be boarded," comes the squeaky voice from a tinny speaker somewhere in the cockpit.

A shiver goes down my back. That was a Bululg speaking. I've heard enough of their creepy alien voices on Earth these past few years.

Arelion fights with the controls. "We have to get more power out of this crate."

"The engines are at well over a hundred percent," Cerak says with his metallic voice. "We can't run away from them. They're keeping up with us without trouble. And they have all their guns aimed at us. I recommend doing as they say and giving them what they want."

Arelion sends me a quick glance. "I think I can guess what they want."

My heart, already low, sinks further in my chest. "It may be me ."

Cerak turns a robotic eye towards me. "That had occurred to us. You're the only thing of much value on this ship. It makes our course of action quite easy."

Arelion fights with the controls until there's a loud bang and most of the lights on the dashboard go dark. There's a metallic shriek from somewhere behind us, and the noise from the engines is suddenly gone.

Arelion slaps the dashboard. " Void! That was that. Sub-quantum resonance collapse. The engines will need hours to build up a new resonance and restart."

"We're adrift in space," Cerak confirms. "And that Bululg ship is maneuvering to dock with us. That makes things much easier. Perhaps we should tie her up, to make the handover go smoothly? The boarding party might even help with the engines if they see us cooperating. Or they might pay a decent price for her."

I grab the buckle for the seatbelt, struggling to get free. "Nobody's tying anyone up!"

Arelion gets up and gives me a mischievous little smile. "Not yet, perhaps. But it's on my list." He strides out of the cockpit.

I manage to get free. Extending my fighting stick to its full length, I point it at the trash can robot. "If you're a Bululg ally, you can just tell me now!"

"Oh, I'm not," Cerak says. "But most robots are pragmatists. I was simply pointing out to Arelion that he doesn't have much of a choice. I'm sure I would sympathize with you if I had such a thing as emotions. As things are, I can only say ‘goodbye'."

I turn to Bari, but she's not in the cockpit anymore. So I run after Arelion, determined to not be taken alive. Touching a finger to my right wrist, I remind myself that I still have a way out.

Arelion is standing by the hatch, fiddling with the control panel. "It would be useful to close it firmly. But I suspect they would simply burn through it, and then it would be impossible to fix. The air would certainly escape, and everyone would die."

I take a deep breath. Arelion is an innocent bystander, and I have already given him a lot of trouble. "Cerak is right. It makes no sense for you to resist the Bululg. I'll go with them."

He tilts his head. "You said the Bululg own your planet. They will consider you to be their property. They are here to catch you, imprison you, and probably sell you at the first opportunity."

"That's right. But I have no intention of letting things get that far."

His yellow gaze sweeps past my wrist. "I see."

"It happens," I tell him, my voice flat. "I did what I could."

"What's your mission, exactly?"

Well, I guess there's no need to keep it a secret. "My twin sister was abducted by the Bululg about a year ago. She was abducted on purpose, as an agent of the Resistance. She was going to hit the Bululg operation hard with a certain… well, it doesn't matter. But she never did. Something went wrong, and we don't know what. I was sent to find her and help her, if she's still alive."

He frowns. "They sent a little female to get another little female that had already failed? An identical one? It sounds like an operation destined to fail."

"We're not identical," I tell him. "We're fraternal twins. Tara got all the good genes. She's beautiful, elegant, smart, and full of energy. She's everything I'm not. If you'd met her, you'd know why they picked her. And I couldn't stand the thought of her being—" To my annoyance, my voice nearly cracks.

"Go on," Arelion calmly rumbles. "There's time."

Damn it. It's a little late to realize I like him more than I ever thought I would.

I calm myself. "I pestered the leaders of the Resistance until they agreed. Only an Earth girl could carry out this particular mission, and they want to find out what happened to Tara. Now they won't, but after I fail to check in they'll send a better agent. One that will actually be able to find their contact on Pranst Station before they get themselves into really bad trouble."

The ship shudders, forcing me to steady myself on the wall. Something outside just hit it.

Arelion doesn't budge. "You were supposed to meet someone there?"

"A Resistance agent, a contact to help me find transportation and… well, it doesn't matter now. I never found them." I look at the hatch and shift the stick in my hand. "That's where they'll come in? You better get into the cockpit. I'll try to take out some of them."

He flicks an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. "I think I'll stay. I am the captain of the ship."

There are more bangs and scrapes along the hull. I hear the outer hatch of the airlock open.

I squeeze the stick in a sweaty hand. "This is not your fight, Arelion. Thank you for everything. I enjoyed my time with you."

There are dull thumps of someone moving in the airlock.

Arelion gently grabs me around the waist, lifts me, and throws me into the hallway to the cabins. The door hisses shut, then gives off a forbidding beep.

I bounce to my feet and hammer on the door with the stick. "Let me out!"

Damn it. It's locked.

My tendency to overthink goes into high gear. He's going to invite them in, negotiate to sell me t, and get as much out of this as he can. It's what any rational person would do. I can't even blame him.

Well, it doesn't change much. I was hoping to knock one or two Bulug out with the stick, but that was really only for my own pride. Their whole ship will blow up when I get inside it and activate my implant and its tiny antimatter warhead.

Bari comes trotting from one of the cabins. "Oh hi. Not going with the Bululg?"

"I don't think I can choose that option," I tell her tightly. "I am being sold as we speak. Can you open this door?"

She touches it with one paw. I get a feeling that endless packets of information are being exchanged between her and the door, but all I hear is another beep.

The door slides open.

I raise the stick to whack the first alien I spot. But there's nobody there, and the room is dark.

Both airlock hatches are open. Beyond there's an eerie blue glow. It must be the interior of the Bululg ship.

I can actually just walk in there and start raising hell.

Stepping into the airlock, I peer into the alien ship. It's dimly lit and the walls have a strange, beehive-like pattern. To my knowledge, nobody from Earth has ever been inside a Bululg ship unless they've been in a cell, on the way to the auction block up in space. I should make the most of this opportunity.

I step out of the airlock and into the alien ship. The floor feels soft, but the gravity is normal enough. I'm able to breathe the air, despite the sharp chemical smell.

There's no reason to wait. I walk fast along the curved, organic-looking corridor.

"Shit!" I almost stumble over an alien curled up on the floor. He's moaning in pain, and I recognize it as a Fresk, one of the goons that serve the Bululg. They're hired for their muscle, not their brains. But this one is out of action. What the hell is going on here?

I pass another Fresk, flat out on his back, wheezing softly.

Now I hear sounds. Thin yells and something that sounds like pleading. Is that how Bululg negotiate the buying of an Earth female?

I follow the corridor as it snakes through the ship until it ends in a round room with walls that look like space outside. In the middle there are many small seats and consoles with all kinds of weird controls on them.

Arelion dominates the room, his feathers black, with angry, red tips. His back is to me, and in one hand he's holding a small Bululg alien, lifting it by its thin neck. "And the weapon controls?"

The Bululg squeaks and points with a long, thin finger. "There!"

Arelion studies the panel, then drops the Bululg to the floor. "All right. Run along now. Our old ship is now yours. It's a fair exchange."

The Bululg scurries away, only giving me a quick glance as he passes, while I point my stick at it to make sure it stays at a distance.

"What's going on?" I demand, spotting two other Fresk aliens as they laboriously get to their feet.

"We have a new ship," Arelion rumbles. "I'm not a fan of the decor, but it looks clean enough. It should take us to Gigori with no problems."

I raise my stick again in case the two Fresk get silly ideas. "Did you fight these guys?"

"If you call it a fight," he scoffs. "I took a chance that the Fresks weren't trusted to carry weapons aboard a Bululg warship, and I was right. They were somewhat surprised when I came bursting into the airlock and made my way here. Possibly I hit some of them too hard, but a few broken bones seems fair payback for what they wanted to do to us."

I'm not sure I'm hearing this right. "You took over the ship? All by yourself?"

His feathers fade back to their regular blue color. He studies the controls, prodding them with one finger. "I had some help from Cerak?—"

There's a ripping sound. One of the consoles seems to split open, and a small Bululg comes out. It runs towards Arelion, raises a big gun, and fires several shots. There are many unpleasant bangs before the Bululg stops and aims straight at the blue giant's face.

In reflex I swing the fighting stick, channeling all my fear and frustration into the move. The end of it catches the Bululg behind its knees and knocks it off its feet.

It all happens in a handful of seconds. Arelion finally snaps out of his surprise, runs over, grabs the little alien, and lifts it as if he's about to slam it across one knee, snapping its spine.

The Bululg squeals in fear and drops the gun to the floor.

Arelion stops his motion at the last moment and tosses the little alien into a wall. "You're lucky Maeve didn't kill you."

The Bululg gets up and scurries away, dragging one thin leg.

Arelion looks at me. "I wonder how many more there are."

We check the consoles, but that one was the only one that was a camouflaged hiding place.

I look nervously around, not yet allowing myself to think this is over. "What happens now?"

He turns towards me. "Now we have a new ship. One that is much nicer than the garbage hauler."

I gasp. "Arelion, you're hurt!"

He has two wounds in his chest and one at his hip, all with burned edges.

He gives me a lopsided smile. "That last one was the only one with a weapon."

My hand runs down my jumpsuit until I find the pocket with the first aid kit. "Are they deep?"

"Can't be that bad if I'm still standing. Wait here." He marches out of the room before I can start treating his wounds.

I'm left alone in the control room of a Bululg spaceship, one of the saucers they like so much. Everything in here is slick and clean and chilly, in contrast with the ship we just came from. The projections of space make it look as if this room is all there is, with windows all around, but I know the ship must be much bigger. I just walked through part of it.

Bari comes trotting. "Oh. We have a brand new ship. He's a resourceful one, that feathery male."

I breathe out, feeling some tension leave my body. I don't know how many more of these nearly-captured situations I can go through before I'll become a nervous wreck. But maybe every new PTSD cancels out all the old ones. "Sure looks that way. Where were you, Bari?"

"Just staying out of trouble. I didn't know these big ships only had a crew of a handful of aliens. But I suppose it makes sense. The Bululg lost their homeworld, and they're getting desperate. There may not be that many of them left."

I shorten the fighting stick and place it in its holder at my side. "You know a lot about them."

"Everyone knows that the Earth Resistance somehow ruined the Bululg homeworld. Earth must be the only place where that piece of news isn't widely known."

Arelion comes walking with Cerak trundling behind him. "That was a good trade. One broken-down garbage hauler in exchange for a flying saucer in good condition. In fairness, it was they that broke it down, so they got what they deserve. Can you fly this thing, Cerak?"

The robot rolls up to a console. "I won't need to. I was able to sweet-talk the computer when they docked and plugged their system into ours."

"You sweet-talked a Bululg computer?" Bari asks with disbelief. "In a fraction of a second?! "

"Yes, " Cerak snaps. "Some of us actually know what we're doing. A strange idea, I know. Arelion, just tell me where you want us to go, and I'll get us there. Or you can fly this thing yourself if you prefer. Is it still Gigori?"

"It is," Arelion says. "Actually, wait. Maeve, does your mission have a backup option for where you might meet your contact?"