Kate
I’m locked in my cell again. The door hisses shut and there’s no sound in here save for the cacophony of being deep inside my own head.
There are no lights, at least no lights that I know how to turn on. So I lay, stationary on my bunk, cool metal at my back, staring out at the one small blinking red light on the console opposite me. It blinks in a rhythm that I can’t understand, a pattern I can’t quite figure out. Hours pass, maybe even days, or weeks, I’m not sure. I never hunger or need to use the bathroom, the only human thing I can do is sleep, though it’s never restful. There’s always a thick cocooning feeling all around me, just under the line of suffocating.
I play with all the buttons on the armor and mask, but I won’t dare put on the faceplate. I cradle the stupid thing in my arms until I can no longer keep my eyes open.
I wake trembling with a bone-chilling cold when my cell door slides open. My legs and arms feel stiff and confined, and I feel like I’m slowly turning into some metal statue.
One of themanlienscomes inside and starts messing with the blinking red button.
“Hello,” I say, my voice ragged from sleep.
He continues his work without a sound.
I clear my throat noisily. “Hey, cyborg,” I say louder, “are you not allowed to talk to me or something?”
He stills and slowly turns his body to face me.
I dangle my metal-clad legs off the bunk and swing them like a child. “I don’t have a mask on. I can’t read your name, what is it?”
“Tore,” it answers.
“You guys all have weird names,” I mumble to myself. “Anyway,” I say taking a deep breath, “So, what was your reason for coming to Earth?”
“Reason?”
“Yes. Reason. Why were you guys on Earth?”
“The Caelum came to help save mankind.”
“Oh yeah, whose mankind? Mine or yours?” I scoff.
“It’s one and the same.”
“How’s that?”
His mask tilts to the side and he steps a touch closer to me.
“You do understandmy kindhave no idea why this is happening, right?” I ask.
“Your kind doesn’t need to know anything of what is happening.”
“Your race is a bunch of assholes. Typical male assholes. I ask a question and you all think it’s time to play a game.”
I think he might have grunted at this.
“So where are you from?” I ask.
“Caelum.”
“And where is that?”
“Right here.”
“So you’re from this tin can?”
“Yes.”
