Chapter 6
Sylvie sat in her cell, watching the shadows walking past the walls. Thankfully the bindings on her wrists and neck had been removed. She attempted to chew her thumbnails, but both were already down to the quick. She started chewing the nail on her left index finger instead, a nervous habit of sorts.
What kind of tests are they going to do?
As an astrobiologist, she'd done her fair share of tests on so-called "lower" life forms. Although she hadn't been able to experiment on any extraterrestrial organisms, she'd done plenty of work on terrestrial ones to hone her skills. At the moment she regretted every nick, cut, and slice in the name of science.
Especially if she was about to experience the same.
Don't think about it, she told herself, and rummaged through her thoughts for a distraction.
An image of the being who'd cut off her escape popped into her head and she allowed it to linger. He might be considered handsome by some, even though he was an alien. He'd been wearing a sarong of woven seaweed that left his muscular chest exposed. He had no nipples, but for some reason, it almost seemed fitting not to disrupt the swell of his pectoris.
Perhaps the dominant species on this planet hadn't evolved from mammals as had happened on Earth. Her scientific mind tried to conjure the reasoning behind his anatomy, but she couldn’t seem to access it. A buzzing sound had started in her ears, and she felt increasingly lightheaded. Something about the atmosphere might be affecting her system.
Or she was going into shock. Maybe she'd hit her head during the crash.
She breathed deeply, hoping to clear her mind of anxious thoughts.
Don't worry about that now. Concentrate on the hot alien.
"Supreme One," her captor had called him. He must be in charge of something. The way he had looked at her had been different from the others. She thought she'd seen compassion in his expression. Maybe she could convince him to help her?
She had to do something. She couldn't take the suspense of just sitting there anymore.
"Hey!" she started to yell, standing up and walking to the wall of her cell. "Let me out of here!"
She tried to bang her fist against the walls but couldn't quite hit them because they weren't exactly solid. No one responded, which was less than surprising.
"Go get your Supreme One! I want to talk to him!"
Still nothing.
Sylvie continued to shout, even as her head grew fuzzier. Panic climbed high in her chest, wrapping around her like a cloak as she continued to vie for attention. At any second the wall could split open and her captor could come back, ready to complete his tests.
The irony of her situation caused her to giggle again. The sound was silly and far more feminine than she was comfortable with.
"Take me to your leader!" she shouted, then collapsed back on the cushion, surrendering to a fit of laughter. She laughed until tears blurred her eyes. She laughed even as a seam appeared in her cell wall.It's time, she thought, and laughed harder.
Her eyes were filled with tears by the time she lifted her head to see who had come for her. All she could make out was a tall form with light green skin through the blurriness of her vision.
"Little green men," she muttered to herself, then laughed even harder.
"Little?"
She recognized the voice immediately. "Supreme Ruler! Please, Your Majesty, or was it Majestic One? Whatever it is, don't let them experiment on me."
"You're shaking," he said, reaching down to lift her face up to meet his gaze as she sat up as best she could. The room was growing darker as her eyes drooped. The glow of his eyes brought her back to reality as a jolt of awareness went through her. Was it fear that made her heart beat faster, or simply him?
Sylvie couldn't puzzle out her own reaction. She was a respected academic, an accomplished woman, and here she was, laughing like a schoolgirl and willing to get on her knees to save her life if she had to. How undignified.
The thought made her laugh again, and once she started, she couldn't stop. She laughed until her face was red, until tears soaked the top of her flight suit.
"Something's wrong with you." The alien cupped her face with one huge hand. His thumb brushed over her cheek as his black eyes bore into her. "The laughing sickness."
He turned to face the wall and spoke hurriedly, “Bring a tincture of four parts marine grass and three parts serpens bacteria. Now!"
"Laughing sickness?" More giggles. "What an appropriate name."
