Alien Desire by Hannah Haze
Chapter twenty one - Emma
All those years of cadet training for nothing. Because now, when I should be putting everything I learned into action, I am wallowing on my bed in misery instead, curled up with a scruffy dog.
They taught us what we should do if we were ever captured by pirates or terrorists. They told us to start making plans immediately, to look around and make use of our surroundings and any would-be tools to hand.
That’s what I should be doing, planning my escape. More aliens will be arriving tomorrow to whisk me away, and outnumbered as I am I won’t be able to stop them.
But my anger has faded and in its place I am left with a deep sorrow and a painful disappointment.
How could he do this to me? I had begun to believe that maybe he did love me, despite not knowing what the emotion meant, he showed me every sign that he did. He promised me that we could be true partners. That we would be equals.
But in a blink of an eye he has broken that promise with no remorse and no guilt.
For the last two days, the nausea that arrives in the morning has not subsided and lingers throughout the day. I feel like I am already trapped on a spaceship; this ice planet all of a sudden swaying like it’s being tossed around on a giant ocean, not gliding peacefully through space.
All I can do is lie on this bed, unmoving with my eyes shut, gripping my growing stomach and hoping it will pass.
I long for a pair of strong, pale arms to hold me and comfort me, for a large hand to stroke the hair from my damp forehead. For a pair of plush lips to kiss my cheek tenderly. And for a deep melodic voice to tell me everything will be alright.
But can I ever trust him again?
“No,” I say resolutely to myself, the sound of my voice makes Fluffy jolt. He lifts his head and stares at me, his eyebrows twitching as if in question. “I can’t trust him, Fluffy. He broke his promise. You were right to be wary of him”
Fluffy whines as if he’s agreeing with me and plants a wet slobber on my cheek.
“The dog is stupid,” Sheila interrupts.
“What?” I say stunned.
“The dog is a stupid animal,” Sheila repeats. “He was the runt of the litter and clearly has no common sense or knack for self preservation. I think it best you do not follow his advice.”
I sit up in bed, the movement making me want to vomit.
“I’m not following any doggy advice, Sheila,” I tell her.
“This is for the best. The intelligent non-human creature—”
“Tor,” I remind her for what must be the millionth time.
“Tor, the intelligent non-human creature, has formed a strong attachment to you, Space Cadet Steele.” Then she adds for good measure, “I knew you were poor at chess but I didn’t think you were as stupid as the pet or as blind as a dingbat.”
“I’m not stupid or blind,” I snap. What does a computer know about these things? She is as incapable of experiencing love as Tor is. She doesn’t know what it is. “Tor likes to fuck me but he does not love me. He wants to steal my baby away and force me to his planet where he’ll lock me away and I’ll be one in his collection of Omegas. That isn’t love.”
Sheila whirrs for several silent minutes and I wonder if she’s sulking again. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. This isn’t her fault.
Outside the sky darkens. It is only a matter of hours before the ship arrives. I glance around the room. Perhaps I should start preparing. I am not one to roll over, to wave the flag of surrender. I should go down fighting. He said if it came to it, he’d drag me kicking screaming and he’ll have to. I am not some placid Omega who will come trotting when he clicks his fingers.
After some time, Sheila says, “I am not programmed to detect love. I don’t believe humans have created a programme that can do this.”
“No, they haven’t.”
“However, I have enhanced observation skills and the ability to undertake complex calculations far beyond the capabilities of a human brain. Using these, I have come to conclude that the alien, Tor, is very much in love with you.”
“You don’t try to control the people you love. You don’t try to ABDUCT the people you love. And you don’t break your promises to them either.”
“Love is something new to him?”
“Yes.”
“And you?” she asks plainly.
I hesitate. “I loved my family and my crewmates. But this, this is the first time I’ve been in love.”
“Then you will both make mistakes while you are learning. Tor was not a proficient chess player when you first sat down to play with him. He made many mistakes while he was learning. But now he is highly skilled and a much better player than you.”
“Thanks a lot, Sheila.”
“You’re welcome.” She pauses. “Perhaps you should give this intelligent alien with the rather large appendage you seem to enjoy another chance?”
“There are some mistakes that cannot be rectified. He has broken my trust,” and my heart, “I do not want to be his pet.”
Sheila is silent after that and I don’t try to continue the conversation. What more is there to say?
Instead, I attempt to pack a bag with things I can scavenge from the bedroom that might be useful. There isn’t a lot but I do know how to survive in the wilderness. And I’ve been saving up the food Tor has delivered to the door, too sick to eat it. Plus I have the blaster — a weapon I hope I won’t have to use.
I am a little calmer when I’m done, although thoroughly exhausted.
I curl back on the bed. My eyelids are heavy and I’m woozy with the need to sleep, but my mind won’t let me. It plays out the scenarios of tomorrow. Every single one ends with me chained in a ship on its way to Astia or trekking over the ice alone. I can’t help sobbing into my pillow at the betrayal.