Page 33 of Alien Peacock
“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 beme.”