Stolen

EVE

I can’t believe I’m still clinging to hope after all these days. It’s just another thing that can be ripped away from me.

Being underfed and filthy has been a great distraction from the despair and the knowledge that escape is a pipe dream.

But now, hope is back on the table, and the harsh reality of my slim chances of escape is rammed down my throat.

This alien—or am I the alien here?—he’s saying all the right things, making me believe I might get out of here. I’m not banking on getting back to Earth; just getting out of this place is all the hope I’m allowing myself right now.

Even if I could go back, would I? Knowing what I know now, could I just go back to being normal with my family? I know they’re out there, searching for me.

My mom’s probably already checked out mentally, and my dad’s called in my uncle, the nutty General. Not to mention the government agencies.

If I went back, I’d spend my life looking up at the stars, not wondering if there’s life out there, but which species will be the next to visit Earth? Will they be friendly?

Would I end up buying a bunker in Nevada, stocking up on gross dried food to last for decades and some kind of water filtration system so I can drink my own pee?

I glance at him again. “My name is,” I say into the device, and then I say “Eve,” in English, not wanting the translator to mess with it.

“Eve,” he repeats, emphasizing the V and making me smile. “Ardaxur,” he points to himself, grinning, which I echo. His smile turns genuine, and it’s stunning.

It’s comforting to know that smiling isn’t just a human thing because it looks like it was meant to be on his face all the time.

Some of his front teeth are a lot sharper than mine, and I wonder if his species eats a lot of meat.

He points to my computer and speaks into it. “I help, add words. Must learn Universal. My learning your native tongue won’t help you here.” He takes it from me slowly, examining it from all angles.

He’s checking out the ports, and I can tell he wants to connect with it somehow. I step away from him and go down to show how I managed to connect it to the ship.

His expression shifts from annoyance to triumph as he looks at it. Then he looks back at me, and his face darkens again.

He wraps his massive six-fingered hand around the other end of my makeshift connection. “That’s so cool,” I say, staring at his hand. He looks at me, puzzled.

I hope I’m not breaking his concentration or committing some cultural faux pas as I hold up my hand, showing him the differences between our hands.

He just shrugs and looks like the differences between us don’t bother him. But I guess they wouldn’t.

Even if he’s not familiar with humans, he’s probably seen some pretty weird aliens. Does he try to find similarities between his species and others?

When I look at his hand, I expect to see it glowing—maybe red or blue? But I see nothing. I pick up my computer slowly, settling comfortably against the wall.

He sits directly in front of me, blocking my view of the outside—or blocking the outside’s view of me. He signals for me not to use it, but that’s okay. I have a ton of questions, but they can wait.

He’s been here for several hours now, and my twice-daily meal arrives via a robot. Sadly, it’s not the cool kind you see in sci-fi shows.

It’s boxy, it brings food, leaves it, and leaves. No dinner conversation tonight.

Since Ardaxur has my computer and I don’t want to disturb him, I get my food and see that they’ve left food for him too. Bastards. He gets real food and I’m stuck with dog food?

I bring it over and set it down. He looks at my food and scowls, glancing from me to the food. He’s not stupid; he doesn’t ask any questions, and I avoid his gaze.

I’ve been eating animal food to survive. He takes my plate of “food,” tosses it back near the door, and hands me his food.

I’m not going to argue. I’m starving. But I don’t want to eat all of his, so I try to push some of it his way; he raises his hand, refusing anything. I smile weakly and take my first bite of real alien food.

“Holy shit, humans don’t know what they’re missing. These asshole aliens have been holding out on the good stuff.”

But I also know I can’t eat this too fast. It smells incredible, and I don’t want my body to reject it and force it back out. After days of little food and food of one texture, I need to be smart about this.

The phrase must have translated to him, as he seems to be hooked up to my translator, even though he’s working with it, because he lets out a surprised sound. I look at him, confused.

He points to the translator. “I think this translator, though I’m not done with the upload, failed to translate properly,” the machine speaks after he does.

“What did you hear?”

He looks at me, grinning, and says, “sexing anal sphincters,” and I burst out laughing, as he does too, his laugh deep and gravelly.

“No,” I say in Universal, having learned a few basic words, and I see this pleases him. But then I need my computer again.

“I don’t think slang and curse words are going to translate well.” I smile broadly, and then take another bite of food, closing my eyes and moaning.

When I open my eyes, he’s looking at me, puzzled, as if I’ve just asked him an impossible question that he can’t answer.

“Give me a few units and I can download your language, as I’ve found a database. My internal system needs time to analyze it. But you need to learn Universal.”

“I am, and I will. I learn languages fast. That was part of my job before,” I wave around, “all of this.”

He gives a nod. “Just eat for now, and let me handle this.”

ARDAXUR

I’m surprised as I sift through the data on Eve’s device. Her civilization seems pretty advanced, but they haven’t ventured far into the stars. There could be a million reasons for this.

Her planet is small. Maybe they lack the resources for such a feat, or they’re not desperate enough yet.

My own species didn’t venture out until we had no other choice. There’s something to be said for a planet that isn’t forced to make drastic decisions.

But I’ve learned enough of her language that I can try using it with the help of my implant for now.

I think she gets the need to learn Universal, but right now, I need information quickly before I contact my director. That takes precedence.

“Do you understand me?”

Her eyes—blue, surrounded by white, with black centers—snap to mine. “Did you learn English that fast?”

“I meant it when I said you needed to learn Universal, but for now, I need information before I contact someone.

This will be faster, with fewer… translation errors,” I say, grinning at her. She laughs at that.

“It’s been almost two weeks,” her voice breaks, and I reach out to take her hand. It’s small, but it means so much. “No one understood me, and they treated me like an animal.”

“I’m so sorry that I saw you only as an unintelligent animal, Eve.” She nods, tears spilling from her eyes.

From what I’ve read, humans cry when they’re upset. How could she be anything but upset? I’m furious at the situation.

“We’ll move on, Ardaxur. First, does everyone call you that? Do they call you anything else? Can I call you Dax?” she asks, her excitement making me even angrier that she’s here.

Every sentence she speaks, every word, drives home the fact that I’m speaking to a sentient being who’s being held against her will.

I think about this for a moment. “No.” Her eyebrows furrow. “Most beings call me Ardaxur, or if I’m at work, they use my title out of respect.”

She starts speaking so fast, if it weren’t for my implant, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with her.

“I’ve been so hungry, Dax,” she says quietly. My annoyance at her calling me Dax is overshadowed by her words. “They stopped feeding me as often when I attacked one of them and kept yelling.

I think their plan to weaken me worked.” I see the anger in her eyes and feel it myself. They were starving her.

But I don’t like “Dax.” It means nothing. I’ll argue this later.

“You attacked them?” I can’t help but smile, impressed that she tried, but hating the consequences and the fact that it led to her starving.

“That’s what this purple stain on my shirt is,” she points. “I had to go through some self-defense training for work, and even though I barely passed, it was better than nothing.”

Her eyes roll back in her head as she looks up. “It wasn’t enough. If I’d known when I was doing the bare minimum that I’d be abducted by aliens, I would have put a bit more effort into that training.”

“I never thought I’d see this, either,” I tell her gently. “I imagine the next time we’re blindsided, we’ll be a bit more prepared.” I have to get up and pace.

“Take my food, anything they bring, take it. I’ll be fine. That congealed mass they bring isn’t even fit for the actual animals in here. It’s no wonder you’ve lost muscle.”

I want to ask, but I hope I don’t offend her. “Is this how you always look?”

She scoffs. “No. I was covered in dirt trying to escape, and I can’t waste enough water to clean myself.”

She picks up her device and starts going through files. I only scanned the informational ones and nothing else. “Do you want to see pictures of me?”

I think I translated the word correctly and understood “picture.” She takes my hand and pulls me down to sit next to her. I hadn’t noticed it before, but her hands are too cold.

She’s not large, and it’s too cold in here. Plus, the clothes she wears are not enough. Annoyed with myself, I strip off as many clothes as I can without scaring her and hand them to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’re cold. I’m not. I’m free, and you’re not. But I swear, I will make this right. Before you show me your “pictures,” let me contact my superior. We need to right this.”

She nods, and I can’t do anything other than an information drop. If anyone hears me talking, it might result in them trying to get rid of the evidence. Of Eve.

Even though I support the stance we take on this, I do realize that beings will do anything to hide it. So I need to be careful, and I need to explain to Eve the importance of her not letting them know she is intelligent.

They would have already killed her to save themselves had they known.

I send both Virtorn and his mate and medical director, Mola, everything I know. From my original goals to meeting Eve, and being truthful about how horribly I acted towards her at first.

I tell them everything. Mola will need to be able to care for her, and possibly learn about her species.

They often work together, and I know Mola will be pestering Virtorn to send an informational gathering pod to her planet and put all information I took from her device into a separate file for them.

I flag the communication as the highest priority, so no matter what they are doing, they will stop and read it.

Eve has sat there patiently, for the few moments it took for me to compile and send everything. Looking down at her, I realize I’m excited to see what she and her species look like normally.

She hands me the pictures with a smile, guiding me through them. The first image makes me grimace, the stark contrast between then and now is hard to swallow.

Even though she’s from a different species, there’s a beauty to her that I hadn’t noticed before. Her skin is a mix of pink and white.

Her blue eyes, now hollow and surrounded by dirt, used to shine brighter than the blue suns, ready to explode with intensity. Her hair, once dark brown and smooth, is now filled with dirt and looks like it would crunch under my fingers. She’s smiling, a sight I’ve seen only a few times. But not like this. I want to see this.

“I promise, I’ll do anything to see this look on your face again,” I say, placing my hand on the side of her neck, tilting her head up.

“I swear to you. Show me the rest of your pictures, and then we’ll talk about what needs to happen.”

She closes her eyes and leans into my touch, making me want to pull her closer. But I don’t.

So I pull my hand away and continue looking. In some of the pictures, she’s surrounded by what she calls family and friends.

They all look different, which I find strange, but I guess our home planet had more variety at one point. War has a way of stripping variety, among other things.

In one picture, she’s on a “roller coaster,” a strange mix of panic and fun on her face. In another, she’s hiking in the mountains on her planet.

Of all the pictures, I like the ones of her the most. Her planet is beautiful, not too unlike some that I’ve visited, though still very different.

Then I come across pictures of what she tells me is a wedding. Up until now, she’d been in regular clothes.

She’s wearing a long red dress, and as a being from a planet with two red dwarfs for suns, I appreciate anything red. There’s a clear difference between the female form of my species and those from Earth.

There’s a “video” of her at this wedding, dancing in a way I’ve never seen before. She calls it the Tango.

She and her partner glide across the floor, staying close, moving as one. Their dance is a series of seamless motions. Not unlike the dances of my world.

I want to ask her about this, but then I realize I’ve been in a trance, engrossed in the pictures and videos, not noticing that the night is ending. This means we’ll have to stop for now.

“Eve, look at me.” She pulls her gaze away. “The night cycle is ending. We’ll talk more later, or whisper if we have to. But you can’t let anyone think you’re anything other than an animal.”

I need to know she understands, so I lower my voice. “Do you understand? I’ll explain later, but for now, just do as you’ve been doing.

Sleep, and I’ll watch over you. I’ll wake you if they bring food.”

She swallows, then nods. “It’s been hard to sleep because I’ve been cold. Can I sleep against your legs, or back to keep warm?”

“Of course,” I reply, my voice hoarse as the lights come on. She lies down next to where I sit, looking out, waiting to hear back from Virtorn, my leg pressing against her back.

I can’t lie down right now. I need to watch. I need to see how they treat her. I’m recording everything, and it will all be used.

I feel her body relax, her breathing deepens against my leg as I see the occasional mercenary walk by, looking disgusted that I’ve “made friends with the beast.” Yes. They will all die.