Stolen
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Alexis Anneb
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Disgust at First Sight
EVE
I reckon itās been about thirteen ādays.ā Iām not even sure what to call this anymore, since wherever I am doesnāt follow a 24-hour cycle, but a 26-hour one.
After a few days, I thought Iād use my knife to scratch the wall in my cell to keep track.
Thatās when I discovered that these walls, whatever theyāre made of, canāt be scratched by anything I have. Iāve never seen this material before, but it looks man-made.
Iām on an alien ship, and thatās all I know. Iām pretty sure they didnāt kidnap me to be a sex slave.
No, I see the way they look at me. Iām an animal to them, just like the other animals around me. Some are from Earth, others are definitely not.
I figure, given the potential for anything to happen, Iām okay being seen as an animal amongst these other animals.
I scoff, starting to bite my fingernail before stopping myself. My hands are too dirty, and I shouldnāt. I donāt even look that different from some of the aliens Iāve seen!
Now it makes sense why they ignored my fits of anger and the screaming when I first woke up. My anger wonāt keep me alive. My anger wonāt save me, and neither will my fear.
Those are primitive emotions, and Iām in a situation where I need to stay calm and be smart.
My hair is caked in mud from crawling around on my stomach in the jungles of Brazil, but I canāt look that primitive...can I?
I tried to wash as much of the dirt off as I could, but I only get two bowls of water a day, and I canāt waste water.
At least I donāt have to share a cell with any of the real animals. I run my dirty hands through my matted hair. I probably sound just like the aliens who abducted me when I think like that.
One upside of them seeing me as an animal is that they didnāt realize I had my computer in my bag when they took me. This is good. This could save me, because I have my linguistics software on here.
In the beginning, when I would scream at them and throw things against my cell, and they would yell back, I assumed they were telling me to be quiet or shut up.
This is good, because my interpretation software can incorporate that into this language as well.
Iāve concluded that they must speak some type of standard or universal language.
There are several alien species that Iāve seen, and they all have different accents when they talk amongst themselves. I might not be able to understand them yet, but I can hear the differences in how they speak.
I flinch as the chimps across from me scream just as I did in the beginning, and if the aliens donāt understand me, how is that any different than me not understanding the chimps?
Damn whatever space gods are listening. Iām miserable, dirty, and Iām hungry. I only get fed twice a day, and after two days of starving myself, I had to give in and choke it down.
I canāt look at it, but I know itās a grayish color, and in the shape of a block. I plug my nose, chew with water, and get it down.
Last night I had a breakthrough, which is my only good news. I found electronicsāsome are wires, but some look like lasers in areas where I would expect other wires.
Not sure if thatās how information is passed? I was able to connect my computer to the ship after days and days of trying different ways.
I donāt expect to do anything useful like take over the ship and fly back home, because this isnāt a damn movie, and I have no idea what to do. I couldnāt even send out a distress signal.
What would it say? āPlease come find me, US government, Iām in another solar systemā¦ā Actually, Iād have better luck with Elon Musk being able to help...
I really just want my interpretation software to analyze anything it can find. Even if itās something like an alien version of an encyclopedia.
I want to know what theyāre saying, even if they wonāt listen to me.
I sit on the small pallet in the corner that I managed to make from rags that were in here. I cradle my neck in my hands as my elbows rest on my knees, trying so hard not to feel hopeless.
Finally, the lights dim, signaling the start of the shipās night cycle. This is when I do most of my work, trying to figure out how to communicate with anyone.
But then again, I donāt know if theyāll listen, or if it will matter. I have about thirty words translated so far, but thatās not enough, and Iām hoping for more tonight.
Even a damn parrot has more than thirty words at their disposal. I live for puzzling out new words, which is one of the reasons Iām so good at my job.
You donāt always have the proverbial Rosetta Stone, but Iām doing the best I can. My computer has been connected all day, hidden of course, so hopefully Iāll see what I can get tonight.
Sitting with my back to the wall so I can see outside, I start to take out my computer. But I donāt want anyone to see it.
None of the aliens have been abusive, but they arenāt exactly friendly either.
Iām not sure if this is a spaceship version of a pirate ship, or if this represents all aliens who just take whatever they want. No wonder our government has tried to hide their existence. Fucking pricks.
I always knew aliens existed, and I love a good alien debate.
But this version of aliens is killing my romanticized version of an intelligent species coming to Earth, communicating, and sharing information. I donāt like this version of reality that Iām in at all.
I look down at my computer, and my heart races as my breathing quickens. I see I have 143 words!
I can work with this. I feel a new sense of determination, and Iām about to study them when I hear yelling coming down the hall and what sounds like fighting.
I quickly stash everything away and crouch in the corner. Usually at night, itās only the sound of the other animals.
Sometimes, I lose sleep over the strange sounds these non-Earth creatures make. Is that xenophobic? I donāt know, but they creep me out more than Earth animals do.
Suddenly, the shuffling and yelling halt right in front of my cell. I look up in horror as two aliens shove a third one into my cell.
Everyoneās yelling, and the newcomer seems to be laughing at the two guards who are pushing him in, their claw-like fingers pointing at him.
Great. Just what I need. A potentially violent alien sharing my cell.
I hope my theory about not being a sex slave holds up because this āguyā is huge. And I hate being wrong. Especially about something as serious as sex slavery.
I practically have my own church, a congregation of one, dedicated to my infallibility. This is not the time to discover my whole belief system is a sham. Talk about a crisis of faith.
Heās standing with his back to me. All I can see is his white hair. Most of the aliens who have hair keep it long. But his is shorter.
Despite the many differences Iāve noticed among the aliensāsome have feathers, tails, exotic skin, and some have plain skinā
Iāve also noticed many small similarities to humans in almost all the aliens. Though I havenāt seen this type before.
Heās got his hands in his hair, clearly frustrated. He turns, and I catch a glimpse of his side. He has horns! Theyāre dark, about two inches long. I canāt help but gawk at them as I take in the rest of him.
His skin is a light blue color. I wonder if his planet has a star that doesnāt emit much UV radiation?
The thought of figuring out why aliens evolved to look the way they do and what their planet is like to cause specific physical characteristics is exciting. Something to think about after I keep myself safe, I remind myself.
I know how to fight a bit, but heās huge, and Iām weak after so many days in here with not enough food, and my muscles not being used the way they should be.
He finally turns to look at me. His eyes look almost purple, but itās hard to tell in this light. And I can see tracks of something under his skin. Metal? Wires? Is this an alien cyborg?
Iām not sure how I feel about thisāthey werenāt that friendly in Star Trekābut I can see things under his skin, and thatās all I can think of. Then I look back at his face, and he seems disgusted by me.
Iām definitely an animal to them all. I take a deep breath and sit down, my disappointment overtaking my curiosity. He looks like heās trying to stay far away from me too.
I guess he doesnāt want to spook the animal, right? Disgusted, I look away. I just want to be seen as a person, even when I know I should be thankful that none of them do.
After an hour of listening to him grumble and attack his hair and yes, his horns too, all while ignoring me, I canāt take it anymore.
I want to know if I have things translated right. So I start simple, and hopefully in the Universal language.
āHello,ā I say into the speaker of my computer, so it will translate, as I look right at him. I would say that I got the desired effect, but I didnāt. It is better.
He looks sharply at me, and almost falls over in surprise.
Thatās right, fucker, I can talk.
He says something in a hushed voice, trembling almost. But I donāt know what it is. His voice is soft but deep, and he doesnāt seem to have any of the accents Iāve heard so far.
I decide to pull my computer out so he can see it. Itās now or never. I look over at him, and his eyes go wide, looking from my face to my computer.
He stands now and walks right over to me, crouching. I donāt know if heās going to take this from me, but I have to try.
Instead, he grabs my face and turns me to meet his gaze, his light purple eyes holding mine, and I canāt help but smile.
I think he sees me, and the look of horror on his face as he realizes that Iām not an animal is priceless.
I turn back to my computer and start to speak into it again. āNo one understands me. Iām building a translator. Help me? They keep me in here. Iām cold, hungry, and getting weak in here.ā
I speak English to my computer. It translates, I think, most of the words, but I think it changed a few.
I hit for it to speak the translated version, listening to how it is pronounced so that I can learn for myself. If this is my new reality, Iām not going to half-ass it.
I look at him while it translates. His eyes take me in anew, and he seems mad, but I donāt think itās at me. He stands and goes to yell for someone.
No one comes. No one ever comes when you scream. His fists are clenched at his side, muscles corded, and his voice booms.
āItās no good, they wonāt come. Iām sorry if I bother you, but Iāve been in here for a while now, and I just need to try.ā
They kidnapped me from my planet and treat me like a slave or an animal. Are you one of them?ā I say all at once into my translator.
No point in breaking up my sentences and having my computer translate it for him.
He rushes back down and crouches on his knees next to me.
Heās vibrating with fury, and I see how his face is different from a human. There is enough similarity that I would call him exotically beautiful, though his face is marred by rage, and he looks desperately at me.
He acts as though seeing me in here is too much for him. He points at my computer; Iām excited that he wants to try. I hit the button and motion for him to speak.
āI would never do what they are doing,ā the translation sounds flat, but the determination of his voice makes me believe him. But Iām not ready to hope yet.
