What I do know is that the pod is hurtling through space at a trajectory very different from the original ship. I wonder if they’ve noticed that I’m gone. I wonder if an alarm sounds, or if the designers figured it would be best for the inhabitants of the ship not to notify their enemies if they were escaping them inthe case of a boarding or something. It all really comes down to if the ship is designed to hold people prisoner, or help the users escape.
Before I can get my bearings, or even begin to work out how I might pilot this panicked orb, a flash of light bursts across my vision. It is bright enough to force my eyes to close for a moment. When they open again, another ship is taking up a surprising amount of the sky. It is bright red and has a number of razor-like protrusions. Basically looks like someone went to a catalog and picked out a bad guy ship for bad guys. I have a deep sense of unease looking at it, as if something is about to go horribly wrong.
Of course, that could be a false positive, because a lot of things have already gone wrong. I’ve been abducted from Earth by three aliens and now I’m in a speeding vessel I can’t control. The big red ship with the razors seems to be following the mercenaries’ ship. I get the sense it’s been there for a while, maybe not occupying exactly the same physical space, but aware of their location somehow.
“Fuck,” I curse to myself. “That can’t be good.”
It’s not good. And then it gets worse.
Several smaller vessels split off from that ship and follow my pod. They close the distance between the red ship and me, giving me the feeling of being helpless inside a tin can. Sitting ducks have a thousand times more maneuverability than I do in this moment.
I start grabbing controls and hitting buttons. The escape orb jerks violently to my left, then starts spinning in circles so fast,the only reason I’m not ill is the fact centrifugal force won’t let anything leave my stomach.
I try pushing the only lever forward, assuming that probably makes the thing go faster, but then I realize it’s more like a joystick, like this is an oversized interstellar paddle boat.
Pew! Pew!The smaller ships start firing at me. Bright flashes of light zip by my bulbous orb. I’m going to have a really great view of the bolt that smashes me into a thousand pieces and then gets each of those pieces instantly freeze-dried in deep space.
“What the fuck! I have nothing to do with this!” I shout. “Leave me alone!”
But they don’t leave me alone. I don’t know if they think I’m hostile, or if they’re just hunting me for sport. It’s really hard to tell. With the way they appeared so quickly after the escape pod left the ship, I feel like they got some kind of notification that had happened. Why? I don’t know. How? I know that even less.
I yank and jerk at the stick in front of me, trying to get away from the alien ships. They seem to only be able to fire directly in front of them, which is the only saving grace I can see. If these fuckers could hit me at an angle, I’d be a thin smear of atoms.
I hit a button on the dash.
“Stop! I’m just a girl!”
I hear my voice outside the ship, which shouldn’t be possible because space is a vacuum, but maybe the vacuum missed a few spots and left some dust or something to transmit the sound because I can sense the vibrations of my message traveling from my vessel to theirs.
There’s a beat or two, and then a voice comes back to me. It sounds metallic and supercilious, like it’s emerging from someone who considers the act of murdering me to be beneath them somehow.
“You’re a hostile actor, defecting from a mercenary ship. Surrender to justice immediately!”
“I don’t know how to surrender! Can you give me instructions?”
“Humans,” the voice snipes over the speakers. “Always thinking they are special for no particular reason. Always imagining they are the exception to any given rule. Do as you are told, female, or suffer the consequences.”
“I’m in an escape pod and I don’t know how to fly it!”
“You’ve been running evasive maneuvers this whole time.”
“That was luck! You have to believe me.”
“I have to believe nothing, human. My patience is wearing thin. Only your monetary value is preventing me from obliterating you. Turn your ship toward ours and proceed to the shuttle bay.”
“I don’t think my owners would like that,” I say. “I don’t think I’m allowed to surrender to other aliens. I don’t even surrender to them most of the time. See, I kind of have brain damage?”
“Enough!” the voice thunders. “You are stalling for time.”
“I am? What am I going to do with the time?”
“Do as you are told, you impossible wretch!”
I am starting to realize that whoever is speaking can’t actually hurt me, or really doesn’t want to. I think it is a value thing. Coming across me floating in space is like finding a pot of gold atthe end of a rainbow that isn’t there. They want to take me and sell me, I bet.
I have no interest in making that easy. Seems to me, every alien I encounter is trying to make a buck off me one way or another. I think back to the auction I’ve only just remembered. I think about how helpless I was there, and how helpless I am now.
I am so tired of this.
