Page 3 of His to Worship
“Yeah, also those things were scary as heck.” I shudder thinking about them. It would be too much to hope that I never see them again.
“I’m not giving up. Have you guys thought about why we would be abducted by aliens?” She pins a glare on each of us. “I have. It’s all I can think about right now, and none of the ideas I’ve come up with are good, so I refuse to just accept this is my fate.”
I think about what she said and realize that I never got to the ‘why’ part because I was stuck on ‘why me.’ Back on Earth, I loved sci-fi in all of its forms, so it doesn’t take long for my brain to draw up reasons why I’d be kidnapped by aliens. Those range from images of green people dissecting me alive to a flash of me at the feet of some horrific monster in a Princess Leia slave costume.
“Okay, fine, I’m in,” I reply, getting on board.
“I don’t know if I want to take on alien bug monsters with a bunch of complete strangers,” Cryer says, looking at us almost apologetically. “No offense, of course.”
Locs Girl makes a humming sound and then says, “What’s your name?”
She sniffles and replies, “Um, Amari. Amari Bennett.”
“Cool, I’m Renata George.” She looks expectantly at the curvy one, the entomologist.
“I’m Sabrina Tanaka.” Finally, everybody looks at me.
“Sedona Branco.”
“Great,” Renata gives us all a wry grin, “we all know each other now, so let’s talk about a plan.”
TWO
- sedona -
The first step in Renata’s “plan” is just recon to gather information to form an actual plan. The opportunity for this presents itself rather quickly. Definitely a lot quicker than I was prepared for.
My foot catches on a divot in the floor and I stumble over my feet, slowing down for a brief moment. A gun shoves harshly into my back as a gurgled click sounds behind me. Scrambling, I rush forward to catch up with the back of Sabrina’s head.
Just after we’d decided that we needed to scope things out, mantis guards had burst into the room and grabbed us, and that landed us here. Now, we’re all walking through a fucking alien spaceship, just four strangers, casually chained together by the waist.
The pathway to wherever is thin, meant to accommodate the skinny bug frames, so we’re led single-file down a never-ending tunnel. There are two aliens on either end of our line and we’re all sandwiched in the middle of them. I’m at the back, walking so close to one that I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end from its proximity.
Eventually, we get to a sliding door and enter what looks like a futuristic prison shower. The sterile room is, like most of what I’ve seen so far, made of smooth seamless metal. Multiple shower heads are spaced evenly, protruding from the ceiling and already spraying water. Harsh glaring lights cast stark shadows and the entire scene looks horrifying.
Are they going to make us undress? The idea of being naked in front of these things is enough to make me want to break down. But, instead of waiting or demanding we undress, they shove all of us fully clothed under the harsh cold spray. I can’t help but let out a squeal and squirm as we all freeze under the torrential pour. The water smells strange as well, with a hint of chemical sourness to it. After a few minutes, they finally turn off the tap and pull us back from the shower heads.
We’re shuffled over to a slightly elevated platform. When we’re all standing on top of it, one of the five guards smacks a red button on the wall off to the side, and hot air bursts from above and below us. It’s a few degrees over comfortable, but thankfully, it only takes a few moments before it’s over and we are no longer soaked. We’re still uncomfortably damp, but slightly warmer now, I guess.
A mantis dude clicks at me roughly and I can’t remember if he was the lead guard or the caboose. They all look so similar it’s hard to tell. Regardless, he roughly grabs me by the arm and leads me toward the door. Guess I get to be the line leader this time around.
We trickle into the hallway, single-file once again. Since I’m at the front, I can strain to see the turns we are making over the guard’s shoulder, but this is not the recon we had hoped for. Trying to escape while on this ship is starting to feel ridiculous. Every few seconds we turn and then turn again. There’s no way to keep track of how far we’ve gone or where we’re headed.
The particularly futuristic part of the ship that we just entered makes the section we were previously in look cheaply made. It’s covered in hexagonal tiles and matching metal frames along the walls which light up when we walk past them.
After several moments, I’m finally able to notice that the geometric patterns have started to disappear. They’ve been replaced by sturdy metal slabs instead, and soon I see what must be our destination up ahead, a larger set of sliding, double doors.
Instinctively, I feel my heart jump in my throat, its beats echoing in my ears. The double doors squeak open automatically as our line approaches. When we enter, my hope, as little as it was, sinks even further.
Several other aliens in uniforms come into view in various states of activity. Some are loading boxes, crates, and metal contraptions into an open compartment in the wall. A mantis on a small machine is pushing a train of large shipping crates through another doorway. Others appear to be adding fuel and otherwise tinkering with the parts of the ship itself. This must be some sort of alien loading dock.
A second later, I realize what I thought was a wall with an open compartment is actually not the butt of another spaceship. Its rounded and curved sleek exterior does not match the rough, unpolished metal of the actual walls of the mother ship’s loading dock. Moreover, I can see an extension of black rubber as it connects the loading dock to the ship in an airtight seal. It reminds me of a fancier version of the black awnings that connect the doors of airplanes to terminals.
As large cargo containers are meticulously maneuvered onto the docked ship and into storage compartments, I can’t help but lose hope completely. I think we’re being prepped for delivery. A bug guard pushes me forward, towards the open ship door. The moment I step onto the other spaceship, a sense of foreboding creeps in, like an icy chill crawling down my spine.
The metallic corridors stretch out before me, bathed in an uncomfortably bright light that casts harsh shadows against the walls. Looking around, I realize the light is coming from the line of windows on the left side. The windows to the right afford us an eerie view of the empty, black expanse of space, while the ones to the left are illuminated by the harsh light of a beautifully bright purple planet.
We are floating in space. Part of me already knew. Of course, they’d have snatched us and zipped off. But the sight of a bright purple planet that is most certainly not in our solar system is enough to make me heave on my empty stomach.